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1
Savannah
I run across the beach, feeling the wind blow through my hair. My toes sink into the sand as I scurry away. Just when I think the coast is clear, I’m swept up into my father’s arms. An involuntary squeal leaves my mouth, followed by a fit of giggles as he spins us around and tickles my sides. He places me back down and tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
“I love you, my sweet Savi.”
The blaring noise of my alarm rips me from my dream and back into reality. My stomach drops as thoughts of the freshly relived memory play in my mind. Of course it wasn’t real, not anymore at least. Those days are so far in the past that sometimes I wonder if they actually happened.
I roll out of bed, still feeling half comatose. My feet pad across the floor as I leave my bedroom in search of some water. The small, beaten-down house is in its normal state of post-tornado aftermath. Empty liquor bottles lie across every possible surface, making it hard to get around. If anyone saw this, they’d think a raging party took place last night. I wish that were the case.
Careful not to make too much noise, I grab some of the glass containers and deposit them into the trash. It doesn’t do much, but it’s better than nothing. Taking a bottle of water from the fridge, I retreat to the bathroom to get ready for school.
As I climb into the shower and the cold water chills my body, the excitement of senior year adds a little sparkle to my normally grim life. Just one more year and I can get out of this godforsaken place. The moment I graduate is the moment I ditch this lie of a life I’m living.
Once I’m clean, I wrap a towel around my body and quietly slip back into my bedroom. The perfectly dry-cleaned uniforms hang in my closet. I smile as I pull one out and begin to put it on. The gray skirt is disgustingly plain, but provides a sense of safety and security. The maroon shirt isn’t much different, except for the school crest in the top corner. It may not be what I would choose to wear on my own, but it makes everything easier in the wardrobe department of my life.
I brush and blow dry my long blonde hair before applying a thin coat of makeup. It’s enough to say, “I’m completely put together” yet not enough to look like I just came from a strip club. After a quick once-over in the mirror, I smile at my own appearance and grab my bag.
The house is still just as lifeless—and just as destroyed—as it was when I woke. I lightly tiptoe down the hallway and into the dark bedroom. Blackout curtains covering the windows make it hard to see anything, but I can just make out a body slumped across the bed. As I step further inside, I cover my nose, gagging immediately from the smell.
“Dad?” I whisper-shout, but get nothing in return. “Dad?”
A low grumble comes from the back of his throat. Well, at the very least, he’s alive. I come closer and see that he’s fully dressed and his shirt has what must be dried vomit all over it.
“Dad, come on. Wake up. You’re a mess, and we need to get this shirt off you.”
I try to pull him up, but he yanks his arm from my grasp. “No.”
Usually I’d take a deep breath before trying again, but if I do that now, the contents of my stomach will join his. “You can go back to sleep as soon as I’m done.”
Grabbing the hem of the shirt, I start to roll it upwards but I’m pushed away. “Fucking stop, you little bitch.”
His words should feel like a punch to the gut, or at the very least cause me to feel sadness, but I’ve been living this nightmare for so long. There isn’t anything he can say that I haven’t heard. Instead of fighting him further, I pick my bag up off the floor and head out the door. If he wants to stay covered in his own puke, that’s his problem.
I’M HALFWAY THROUGH MY walk to school when a familiar SUV pulls up next to me. I pull out one of my earbuds and turn to face the driver. Brady, the closest thing I have to a real friend in this place, gives me a knowing look as he reaches over and opens the door.
“How many times have I told you I would drive you in the mornings?”
“Technically, none. New school year, new rules.” I quip as I get in the passenger side.
“Savannah,” he deadpans, clearly unamused with my antics. “I’m serious. I don’t want you walking through that part of town. Especially not alone.”
I scoff. “I’m a big girl, B. I think I can handle a homeless guy or seven.”
“I’m sure you can, Rocky, but let’s not test that theory.”
We get to the school in less than half the time it would’ve taken me to walk. The sidewalks are filled with kids on both sides of the street. On the left is North Haven High, the public school I’d have to attend if it wasn’t for Mrs. Laurence—Brady’s mom and my incredible dance teacher—paying a hefty sum each year. And on the right is my prestigious private school, Haven Grace Prep. The two institutions across from each other couldn’t be more different, and the rivalry between them has run strong for decades. If we aren’t battling it out on the football field, we’re throwing punches at parties. It’s a constant war that shows no signs of ending any time soon.
“Thanks for the ride.” I say as I reach over and give Brady a hug before getting out of the car. “I’ll see you after?”
He nods. “I’ll be here.”
As the car pulls away, I take a deep breath and start walking up the steps toward the large doors. Students hanging around outside all say their hellos to me, hoping I’ll stop to talk to them, but none are lucky enough to get more than a fake grin sent their way. I go inside and turn right down the hallway, seeing my posse, as people lik
e to call them, already surrounding my locker. The urge to roll my eyes is strong, but I guess it comes with the territory of being deemed the most popular girl in school.
The second I’m close enough, I hear Becca ranting about something I can only assume is a rich bitch problem. All eyes turn to me when I reach my locker. My eyebrows raise in a silent command, causing Kinsley and Paige to move out of my way.
“Hey, Savannah,” Emma greets.
I smile warmly at her. “Hey, Ems.”
Out of the four of them, Emma is the most genuine—though the competition isn’t very fierce in that category. I’m not stupid enough to believe their loyalty is any thicker than water. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that they would throw me to the wolves if it meant they’d get a little more attention. Hell, I’m pretty sure the only reason they worship the ground I walk on is because they think I’m dating Brady. To them, he’s an older college guy with a nice car. To me, he’s my dance teacher’s very hot, yet very gay, son. Still, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.
“So, what’s the issue today, Bec?” I question as I shove my bag into my locker and slip my cellphone into my back pocket.
