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Four…I’d have to think of a four…
“Owww,” I cried before keeling over and clutching my stomach. The basketball that had knocked the wind right out of me, bounced away.
“Oops.”
I glanced up.
Kiki stood there with her hands on her hips. “My bad.”
I stood up, disguising the pain. “No worries. It takes more than that to bring me down.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said.
I willed myself to shake it off as I continued walking the perimeter of the gym. I kept an eye on Kiki, though, making sure she wouldn’t get another chance to hit me.
“Head back to the locker room,” the gym teacher called with five minutes left in the school day.
Relief swept over me. I couldn’t get back to the locker room quickly enough. I returned to my changing cubby and pulled off my new gym T-shirt, slipping my navy uniform shirt back over my head. Then, slipped off the shorts and shimmied back into the skirt. I grabbed my backpack just as the bell rang and hurried out to the parking lot.
I hadn’t realized how much I needed the fresh air. So, I breathed it in as I headed to the back of the parking lot where I’d parked. I stopped short a few yards away from my car.What the hell?The entire thing was wrapped in plastic wrap. And not just one layer. It looked as though it had been swallowed by bubble wrap. A sign wrapped underneath on my driver’s window read:Welcome to Windham Prep
People gathered around my car, laughing and taking photos of it. As soon as someone spotted me, people turned and filmed my reaction. I tried to laugh. Tried to act like I thought it was funny. But it wasn’t funny. And, I had no idea how I’d ever be able to unwrap it on my own.
“Did someone call for some scissors?”
I exhaled, relieved to hear a familiar voice.
“Sorry, Grace. These people suck,” Sawyer said as he handed me a pair of scissors. “It’s better if you do it yourself,” he whispered. “Let them think you love it.” And then he was gone.
I approached my car and began cutting into the plastic wrap. More photos were snapped, but eventually, the crowd dissipated. Apparently, it wasn’t as entertaining to watch me undo their hard work as it was to set up the prank.
After most of the cars had left the lot, I sat down on the curb near my half-wrapped car and waited until every car was gone. I sat until I knew tears wouldn’t fall. I sat until I knew I could get all the plastic wrap off without breaking down.
And then I did.
I unwrapped the entire car and drove back to the manor now more than ever determined to prove that I could handle whatever they threw my way.
CHAPTER 15
Seren
“I’m glad you could all finally make it,” Arthur Andrews, my dad’s lawyer, said as he glanced to my brothers, my mother, Martine, and me seated around the large boardroom table at Grayson Industries.
I leaned back in my swivel chair, taking in the lifeless room. Over the past three years, Martine had taken down the portraits my father had commissioned of our family. My father wanted this company to be our legacy. It felt odd to be there without him. Probably the reason I’d been putting off this meeting. Because Iwasthe reason the meeting hadn’t happened sooner. And everyone knew it.
“As you know,” Arthur continued, “Your father left fifty-one percent of Grayson Industries to his wife, Maureen, until his first-born son turned eighteen and was deemed capable of running the company.”
All eyes moved to me. I remained stoic. What were they expecting? This wasn’t news to me. I was there when his will was read three years ago. Should anything happen to my father, his business would go to my mother until I turned eighteen. Then, if she thought I was responsible enough, I’d gain control of fifty-one percent of Grayson’s Industries, with Martine maintaining his forty-nine percent. Yeah, the guy nearly fell out of his fucking chair when he heard he’d be owning less of the company than me. Apparently, my dad kept that bit of information close to the chest, and Martine only learned of it when we did. Served the douchebag right for taking his dead partner’s wife.
“You’ve been eighteen since September, Seren,” Arthur continued. “And you’ve yet to announce if you’ll be accepting your role at Grayson Industries.”
I was appreciative that my dad thought I could handle such a huge undertaking—at eighteen. But, I had no intention of taking over Grayson Industries.
“That’s because he’s playing football in Alabama,” my mother explained.
“Well, if that’s the case, we have some logistics to work out,” Arthur explained.
“What happens if I don’t accept my position?” I asked.
