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“He’ll be there today,” Emmett blurts. “All of them will be.”
I nod and shift against the seat, feeling relieved that we don’t have to dance around it. “Better than them being absent any longer, I guess. We get to dive right into the new order of things.”
“New order,” he scoffs under his breath resentfully.
From the moment I arrived at WJ Prep, I was informed of the hierarchy. The town Jameson was founded by the predecessors of Emmett’s father, Thomas Jameson. And at the center of it all was Jameson Automobiles. A luxury car manufacturer that only the richest of the rich could ever dream of buying from. But that’s exactly what the Elites were. The wealthiest, most powerful people around. Everyone in town bowed to them. The police, teachers, doctors, lawyers. No one dared to question them.
Emmett’s car pulls into a parking spot near the back of the lot, trying not to call attention to us, but there’s a group of students gathered around front who notice us and stop to gawk. The school has assigned parking, which has of course also always been controlled by the Elites. I’ve been used to parking in the back. My assigned spot has always been as far away from school as possible. If they had their way, they probably would have had me parking in a different lot altogether. But Emmett once had one of those spots up front. He used to be the ringleader of them all. A painful fact neither of us wants to think about right now, even if our reasons are different.
His eyes dart across the huddle of staring, snickering students, then over to me with a look of dread and acceptance. Before the end of last semester, he at least still had his old car. Now he has nothing left to hide behind, and there’s been the passing of the entire break for rumors to fly around. We’re certain everyone knows now.
I offer a comforting smile and squeeze his hand tight just before we finally force ourselves out of the car. We can feel everyone’s eyes burning into us as we make the long walk to the front doors. It’s as if they’re surprised to see us. Maybe they thought we’d run away and never come back. That’s what the rest of the old Elites have done, either by choice or by force.
Emmett’s ex-girlfriend, Vivian, lives in New York with her aunt now that her parents are in prison. Trey and Vincent, the twins from hell, have vanished. I heard their relatives sent them off to some military school as an attempt to erase the poor job their parents did raising them. Parents that are also now in prison. Lily used to be a friend to me, or at least pretended to be. But the absurdity of the Elite hierarchy got the better of her, and she now rests in a high-class mental facility. No one survives the Elites it seems, except for Emmett’s sister, Bernadette. The only remaining original member. In that context, I guess Emmett can be glad he’s at least still here, even if he is blacklisted right along with me now.
We do our best to ignore them and brush past, but we’re not far into the halls before we see him. Malcolm Henderson. Leaned up against his locker with a hoard of worshippers around him. He stands where Emmett once stood in every sense, and he has a new group of minions surrounding him.
I squeeze Emmett’s hand tighter as we walk by, feeling him glaring at us. The muscles in his hand tighten, and I know it’s taking everything in him not to turn around and pounce. But we do what we’re supposed to. We keep walking. If we keep our heads down and ignore him, things will be much easier for us.
We part ways for our respective classes and thankfully the morning is uneventful. We’ve both had time to adjus
t to being in the same building as Malcolm by the time lunch rolls around and things feel slightly less tense.
After going through the line of ridiculous food that gets served here, including steak and an array of other gourmet dishes, we settle into a table by ourselves at the back of the room. We eat in silence for a while, but I can see Emmett staring at them from the corner of my eye.
The Elites always sit at a table in the middle of the cafeteria. For a short time last semester, seating was free reign around here. But now things have been restored with new faces to assume the role of school leaders.
I try not to notice how hurt Emmett looks as he glances over at them, mostly looking at Bernadette. His sister. For him, this isn’t just about school politics or who the popular kids are. His entire family has betrayed him and Bernadette sits proudly at Malcolm’s side, ignoring her outcast brother.
My father was one of the first Elites to ever be blacklisted after he squandered tons of their money to bad gambling debts. They banished him, but shortly after I arrived at WJ Prep, he came back with a vengeance. In a whirlwind of events, which I was held hostage in the middle of, he murdered Emmett’s father, Thomas. The rest of the Elites went down with charges for a sex trafficking ring they were all running for profit. Briefly, it seemed like things would be better. Emmett stepped in to take over Jameson Automobiles and was determined to toss out the old ways of the Elites altogether.
But his mom and sister had something else in mind, and the Hendersons were whispering in their ears the entire time. Waiting in the sidelines for their chance to pounce and take away everything. They backed Emmett into a corner and gained control over every aspect of Jameson, both as a town and as a company. Now the Hendersons and the rest of Emmett’s remaining family sit on the town’s throne, leaving him with nothing.
I can see all of this rolling through his mind as we sit and eat, but Bernadette looks pleased with herself without a care in the world. Not an ounce of guilt, regret, or shame. I marvel at the new faces sitting around them, already looking comfortable in their new roles. It makes it all feel more impossible. When one round of them are taken out, a whole new bunch pops up in their place practically overnight, like daisies.
“Who are they?” I gape, shaking my head. “Where did they come from?”
“Liam and Malcolm fired most of the old executives and key players in the company after they took everything from me,” he explains through lightly clenched jaws. “They probably thought they couldn’t trust them. So they brought in new people from all over the place.” He tips his head to the guy sitting on the other side of Malcolm. “That’s Skye Liang. One of the youngest, self-made millionaires in the tech world. He’s been working on the sidelines of the Hendersons’ software company for years now.”
Sitting across from Skye is a smarmy looking pale guy with slicked back blonde hair. His cheeks are round with bright red lips, making him look much younger than he probably is. Everything about him spells out spoiled, rich brat.
“Who’s that one?” I snarl.
“Miles Hartford,” he replies, rolling his eyes slightly. “They’re like the Jamesons of Connecticut. They were always big competitors of ours on the stock market. I guess Liam decided they’d be better off joining forces.”
“How amicable of them,” I huff bitterly.
Emmett smirks, but it quickly fades. I see a wave of heaviness wash over him as he stabs into his food without taking a bite.
“They’re having a grand opening,” he says softly in a pained voice.
“For what?”
“Jameson Automobiles,” he answers.
“But…it’s been open,” I stammer in confusion. “It never closed. They can’t even have a re-opening. Definitely not an opening.”
His face tightens, but he doesn’t say anything else. For as messed-up as his father was along with everything his family has always stood for, Jameson Automobiles was still his family’s legacy. One he was born into believing he would inherit. With his father out of the way, not only did he think he would inherit it, he thought he’d finally have a chance to make it a clean business, free of the dirty underbelly full of things like rape, murder, and the sex trafficking rings the rest of the old Elites went down for.
