HARTWELL

Chapter 1 Nobody tells you that the worst day of your life can start with mayonnaise. Hi, my name is Emily Clarke, eighteen years old, and I am being shipped off to a boarding school I never asked for, never wanted, and never in my entire life thought my parents would actually go through with. But here we are. Emily!!!!!!! Yep, that's my mom, Sandra Clarke, five foot two, floral dress, smile that makes you feel guilty before you've even done anything. Emily!!!!!! Goshhh I'm coming. I hurried downstairs, grabbed a slice of bread, spread mayonnaise on it, picked up my bag and ran outside. The car was already running. Dad already in the driver's seat. My little brother Leo in the back eating a biscuit and watching everything like it was a documentary he'd been waiting for. "You have the folder?" Mom asked. "Yes." "Toiletries?" "Mom." "Emily." "Yes I have everything." She pulled me into a hug, tight, the kind that smells like her perfume and almost makes you forget you're furious. Almost. "You're going to love it," she whispered. I said nothing, got in the car, and watched my house disappear behind us. The drive was two hours of Dad's jazz playlist and Leo falling asleep on my shoulder no matter how many times I moved away. I spent most of it staring out the window thinking about everything I was leaving behind. My room, my friends, my actual life. I wasn't running from anything, let me be clear about that. I wasn't some sad story arriving with trauma and baggage. I was just a normal girl whose parents decided that normal wasn't good enough. Your potential, Emily, your potential. Dad's voice in my head. I'd been hearing it for weeks. Whatever. When we pulled through the gates of Hartwell Academy my stomach did something uncomfortable. The school was big, like actually big. Old brick buildings, green everywhere, a fountain at the front, students scattered around in navy and white uniforms already looking like they'd been here forever. Mom was out of the car with her phone before Dad even parked. "Sandra," he said. "James I am documenting this." I grabbed my bag and just stood there. New school, new people, new everything, and I didn't ask for any of it. Then someone bumped into me. Hard. My bread went straight to the floor face down, because of course it did. "Watch it," I said, spinning around. The guy didn't stop walking. Just glanced back over his shoulder. Looked at my bread. Looked at me. Dark eyes, messy hair, uniform already looking deliberately wrong. And then he turned back around and kept walking. Didn't say sorry. Didn't even slow down. Okay. Noted. My room was on the second floor of the girls dormitory. Room 14. Mrs Cecilia the dorm matron walked me up herself and I could already tell she was the kind of woman who heard everything and forgot nothing. "Lights out is ten," she said at the door. "No boys past the ground floor, no food in the rooms, no exceptions, and I will know." She looked at me for one extra second like she was already adding me to a list. Then she left. I pushed the door open. Two girls already inside. One sitting on the bed by the window painting her nails like she had all the time in the world. The other one standing on a chair trying to bluetack something to the wall. "New roommate," the one on the chair said without looking down. "I'm Fiona, she's Eleanor, pick whichever bed you want except those two." "I'm Emily." "Cool," said Eleanor from the window. She blew on her nails. "Where you from." "London, well outside London, you wouldn't know it." "Nobody's from anywhere interesting," Fiona said, finally climbing down. She looked at me properly for the first time. She was pretty in a loud way, big eyes, hair everywhere. "You eaten, there's still twenty minutes of dinner." "I had bread." "That's not food." She grabbed my wrist and pulled me out before I'd even put my bag down. The dining hall was loud and full and the kind of organised chaos that takes weeks to learn the rules of. Fiona walked through it like she owned the floor. Nodding at people, ignoring others, very deliberate about both. She sat us down at a table in the middle and started loading her plate. "So why are you here," she asked. "My parents thought I needed more of a challenge." She looked at me. "That's what everyone says first. What's the real reason." I opened my mouth, closed it. "That is the real reason." She shrugged like she didn't believe me but would let it go for now. "I'm here because I got expelled from my last school," she said it completely casually, like she was telling me what she had for breakfast. "Eleanor's here because her parents travel and don't want to deal with her. Everyone here has a thing. You'll find out everyone's thing eventually." What's Ethan's thing, I thought, and then immediately hated myself for thinking his name. I didn't even know his name yet. I was just calling him Ethan in my head. I don't know why. "Who's the guy," I asked. "Dark hair, tall, walks like he's annoyed at the floor." Fiona put her fork down. She looked at Eleanor. Eleanor looked up from her nails for the first time. "What," I said. "Nothing," Fiona said, picking her fork back up. "That's Ethan. And that's a whole chapter you don't want to open on your first day." From across the dining hall I saw him sitting alone at the end of a table. Not lonely alone. More like chosen alone. Like he'd looked at every other option and decided against all of them. He didn't look up. I looked away. Fine. Noted, again. That night, after Eleanor was asleep, Fiona leaned over from her bed in the dark. "Okay real talk," she whispered. "There's a party being planned, off campus, next Friday, illegal club, older students organising it. You in." "I just got here." "Is that a yes." I stared at the ceiling. I just got here. I don't know anyone. I don't know this school. I should say no. I should absolutely say no. "I'll think about it," I said. Fiona smiled. I couldn't see it but I could hear it. "That's a yes."