AllFreeNovel
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There's only one difference between the three of us. Beaufort and I have money. Piles of it.Mountainsof it.
Damian doesn't.
That's not quite accurate. His shoes are worth as much as mine, as is his watch. He never seems strapped for cash. Hell, he's attendingRothfordwithout a scholarship, and god knows that's expensive enough. But we have the right kind of money, the sort attached to our names, traceable for generations. Him? Not so much.
His mom's a secretary. Officially, he only has one parent, but we all know his dad must be around, anonymously bankrolling his lifestyle. He's definitely one of us by right of blood, but whoever fathered him didn't claim him, poor bastard.
"Maybe to you," Damian grunts, lifting the bowl of chips out of my reach. "I don't feel like sharing anymore."
"Maybe that's your problem, my friend," Beaufort says, sending me a quick knowing look Damian completely misses.
I grin. We've both legacies.We joined the Heritage when we were eighteen, around the same time four years ago.
And wedefinitelyshare.
"My problem is the lack of a six-figure trust fund," he replies with an eye roll.
"That too." Neither of us are going to deny it. "Hey, isn't that your girlfriend by the way?"
Damian turns to watch Bex walk into the garden party, in her pristine white dress.
"She's not my girlfriend," he grunts automatically, as he always does.
But he's quick to go greet her, abandoning us and, mercifully, leaving the chips.I take the bowl and return to my current past time of choice: staring at her highness, who still studies us peasant from her pedestal.
I really don't understand her. No matter how I look at it, I’d swear there’s some longing in her eyes. She seems to want to join in the fun. So why doesn’t she?
That's probably it: I'm staring because I want to complete the strange puzzle that is Sarah Andrews. Nothing more.
2
SARAH
Ifit in at this pool party as much as a cactus would in the arctic tundra. I’m dying to leave, head back to the dorms to grab my headphones, and set out for the hills.
It’s a sunny day, perfect for a hike, and I have a new audiobook to listen to, plus a new episode of my favorite vlogger must have aired.I can’t wait to listen.
But I stay all the same, sipping punch and counting the minutes until it’s possible to make my escape politely. I arrived an hour and a half ago. I should stay another thirty minutes or so, right? Then again, there are at least fifty people. There’s no way Violet can actually keep track of everyone. She might not notice if I just slip away…
I bite my lower lip. I don’t want to be rude. She, and her mother, have done so much for me. They’re the reason I’m here, for one. In Thorn Falls. Attending Rothford.
Alive.
There’s no saying what would have happened to me by now if I was still in Lone Pine, Inyo County.
In an effort to avoid thinking about the town that has been my home for the last four years, I watch the three dozen students joking around the pool, splashing, screaming, drinking.
I’m such an outsider. I’ve attended Rothford University since the start of the last term in January, but I don’t know any of those people. Not really. I’ve seen them around, but most don’t give me the time of the day. I only tend to be thrown in with this lot here when Violet, Rhys, and Roman throw a party and invite me.
Half of the time, I say no to the invitation, finding some sort of excuse why I can’t possibly make it, but Violet acts like I kicked a puppy when I pass on her hospitality. She’s a sweetheart and determined to make sure I’m comfortable here. She and the Raventhorn girls have taken me under their wing. It’s nice, if a little frustrating. I wish they’d believe me when I tell them I’m fine by myself; I don’t need to go out or see people to be content. On the contrary. People trigger me.
I tell myself coming here is good practice. It’s useful to acclimate myself to crowds in a safe, public setting, according to the advice I’ve read online about social anxiety. It’s not like I can afford an actual shrink for personalized coping methods.
I spring up, heart racing, startled by an unexpected touch on my bare shin.
Looking down, I break into a sunny smile. “Oh, hello, beautiful!”
The powder blue pittie mix with an infectious grin pants, her tongue hanging out. Her big eyes beg for affection, or treats, or ideally, both.I’m quick to reach down to scratch her adorable face.
