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I check the time on my phone and exhale. Okay, it’s barely seven a.m., and classes don’t start until nine. This is a whole heap of late teens and early twenty-year-olds—they’re not going to be early risers, are they? Any luck, I’ll have the cafeteria almost to myself.
I don’t even know what my schedule is, or who I’m supposed to get it from. Is there an office here with someone who deals with all of that? I guess if Dom had actually bothered to show me around, instead of dumping me to go off with his buddies, I would have been told all of that stuff. I could have told Nataniele what Domenic had done, but that would have only gotten me deeper into his bad books—not that I wasn’t already there.
Fuck him, I think to myself. I’m a grown woman now. I’m sure I can find my own way around.
My stomach growls. First, though, I need food.
I quickly shower and change, and take a moment to apply some foundation, mascara, and lip gloss. I don’t know who I’m going to meet today, and I don’t want to look like something the cat’s dragged in. I’m also aware of how everyone I saw yesterday is kitted out in the best brands of clothing, while most of mine are from Walmart. We sold a lot of my good clothes, Mom’s too, to try to keep ourselves afloat when things first went bad for us as a family. So now, I own very few nice things. I can’t control that, but I can control making sure my hair has been brushed and I don’t have anything between my teeth.
I leave my room and head down the stairs to the first floor. I follow the scent of bacon and toast, and also stalk a couple of the other students who look as though they’re going in the right direction.
The cafeteria is situated in the middle of the east side of the quadrant of buildings.
I push through the double doors leading into it. The space looks like it should be a library, not a place where people eat. It’s circular in shape. The ceilings tower above me and are carved with ornate figures—angels and demons, I think. A catwalk runs the perimeter of the curved walls, and above them are pictures of stern looking men I don’t recognize in gold frames.
At the other end of the cafeteria is, I assume, the kitchen, though it’s separated from this area by sliding doors, as though someone didn’t want the staff to actually have to mingle with the students. In front of the sliding doors, but set far enough back to not get in the way, are long straight tables, covered in white tablecloths. On the tables, silver platters of food are piled high.
My mouth waters. There are pancakes, with a choice of different syrups and sauces. On warming trays, bacon is stacked, and beside it are eggs in every form, sausage links, mushrooms, tomatoes, and hash browns. There’s a chiller cabinet too, which contains yogurts and fruits, and milk in all its varieties. I imagine they get a lot of call for almond and oat milks around here. There’s also a bread section with white, granary, and seeded breads, and multiple kinds of pastries available. There’s even a gluten free section. A silver dish on ice contains swirls of butter.
“You gonna eat something?”
I jump at the voice and spin around to find the tattooed guy from earlier standing right at my shoulder.
“Oh, it’s you,” I blurt.
“Yes, it’s me. You’re the new girl, right? Kenzie.”
“It’s Mackenzie,” I correct him.
He shrugs. “I prefer Kenzie. I think I’ll just call you that.”
He throws me with his confidence. “Oh, right.”
“You going to get something to eat, then?” he presses.
I’m kind of relieved to have someone with me, even if this is one of Domenic and Kirill’s friends.
“Yeah, I’m starving.”
He nods approvingly. “Same.”
We part briefly to select plates, and then load food onto them. I go for pancakes, fresh fruit, and crispy bacon, and then look around for somewhere to sit. The tattooed guy has already found an empty table, and he beckons me over.
I sense the eyes of the other students in the room watching me as I join him.
“So, how are you finding it so far?” he asks.
I sit down and pick up the set of cutlery that’s wrapped in a cloth napkin. “I’m not sure yet,” I admit. “I’m a little out of my comfort zone.”
“In what way?”
“Well, you know…everyone around here comes from money, even more so than I expected.”
I’ve been around money before, but not recently. Not since Dad died.
He snorts. “Yeah, that’s pretty obvious. It costs a million dollars a year to come to Verona Falls.”
My jaw drops. “A million bucks? For one year? You’ve got to be kidding, right?” The top colleges don’t cost a tenth of that.
