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Sobbing, I back away from him and stand beside the table. My tears won’t stop, and I’ve been a dumb, stupid fool. I should’ve asked for help instead of worrying myself over what people would think. What will they think now?
I feel his hand on my back, stroking my shoulders, but I won’t dare look at him. It’s not spite. It’s shame. He’s right. I am a princess because I thought I was better than everyone at Monarch. And now, I’m caught in the filthiest secret.
“You have a choice,” he says, “I open the door and tell everyone that you have an OnlyFriends account, and every guy at the party is going to line up for a sample. Or we keep your secret.”
I wipe my face with my hands and face him. “And what’s in it for you?”
Asher leans in close, so I can feel the tension radiating off his body. “What’s in it for me, princess? I want you to swallow.”
My lips thin, but I refuse to show any more emotion. “I’ve done that before.”
He stares at me, not shocked by my confession but by my uncontrolled hostility. Asher’s jaw tightens as he backs away from me. “Take off your top and pretend I’m the camera.”
Chapter 1
Charlotte
Asher Nixon. It’s my first day at Ivymore University. And immediately, I see his name taped to a door in my dorm.Asher Nixon.It’s printed neatly on a white card in black ink down the hall from my single. His cold heart is darker than that ink. My heart reacts before my head, and I almost lose it as my legs start to tremble.
“Don’t stress it.” Astrid is on the phone. “How could he get into an Ivy League school?”
When I saw his name, I immediately called my sister. She understands exactly how I feel. How seeing his name makes my whole body uneasy.
“I suppose you’re right,” I reply, my gaze latching hard onto the card. “He can’t be the only person on earth with that name. Can he?”
My last semester of high school was more brutal than serving time in hell. Asher was my warden. He made my heart pound with equal parts desire and fear. Asher loathed me at first sight because of what he thought I was—a rich girl who was spoiled, snobby, and superficial. But he soon figured out I had even less than him.
“I gotta go,” I tell her.
“Call if there’s a problem, Charlotte, and I’ll buy you a ticket to New York.”
Cautiously, I back away from the door as if it might swing open and I’ll be dragged inside, screaming and fighting. It’s not my far-fetched imagination working overtime. It did happen when I was at Monarch Academy. I was hated there by every kid, and especially by one.
Gripping panic blasts up my spine as I hurry down the hallway. When will my luck ever change? My single is on the opposite end of the hall from Asher’s. Our doors face one another. Standing in my doorway, I have a full view of his room. I slip my key into the lock and rush inside of my room as if I’m being chased.
Astrid’s right. She has to be. It can’t be Asher Nixon. Paranoia is making me silly. I left him behind in Weymouth. It has to be a mistake. He could never be here at an Ivy League university. How could he afford it? He never did his homework and barely went to class. It’s not possible. Everyone knows that. If you went to Stonehaven Academy, you went to college. If you somehow finished Monarch, you went straight to a job if you weren’t already working.
I lean hard against the locked door, taking deep breaths to still my tightening chest. Then, without being completely aware, my hand instinctively touches my hair. Well, the hair extension my sister Astrid paid for, and her best friend Nova wove in. Last spring, two Monarch bitches jumped me at a party and tried to shave me bald. I fought and then ran, but they managed to shave a sizable chunk off my scalp. Detached and silent, Asher watched as they attacked me. The taste of his cum was still warm in my mouth.
I hate him. I swear I always will. But I had to remind myself to stay away whenever I saw him watching me in gym class. Constantly, I felt his stone-blue gaze on me, and when I looked up to glare, he wouldn’t look away. Instead, a smirk would tug at his pouty lips and uneasiness would pass over me. But it wasn’t only fear. Wanting him made me hate myself even more. Wanting to please him and convince him to like me tore my self-esteem to shreds. I was the singed moth, forever going after a hot flame.
I open my door, pushing it back against the wall so I can watch the hallway. The sooner I know for sure, the better for my jumpy nerves. But it can’t be Asher. I have to be making an idiotic mistake. Besides, not everyone’s moved into the dorms yet. It’s only a boy with his name. And I’ll cling tightly to reason. This is my new start, and fate can’t be that cruel of a jerk.
I almost leap out of my skin when I hear a voice behind me.
“Charlotte, is that you?”
Chapter 2
Charlotte
Wren is standing in the doorway, clutching a blue and white freshman folder to her chest with the biggest smile glued onto her glowing face. I had no idea Wren Thorton was coming to Ivymore University. Silly me to think I could find a college far enough away from Rockingham and my past on the East Coast. Obviously, Upstate New York isn’t that far away from Vermont.
“Hey, Wren. How are you, girl?” I wish I was 10 percent happy to see her. But I fake it like I’m up to a hundred.
We hurry toward each other and hold one another in a bear hug that ends with an ear-piercing squeal. I want to scream, but not for joy. Goodbye, new start, and hello, baggage. I pull away first, and Wren hasn’t changed since boarding school. Why would she have changed? It only ended in June, and this is probably the only significant life experience she’s had since birth. Not for me. After winter break, I fled the sanctuary of Stonehaven for a shithole called Monarch Academy.
I’m not in love with seeing a member of my old clique again, but I’m relieved to have an insta-friend to hang with. It won’t be the fresh beginning I had envisioned, not if my past insists on following me around. I never told my best friend Wren a thing about my fall from grace. Not a word about my former father disowning me or being left penniless. I just took off, expecting never to see her again. But here she is.
