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First dayof school and this is the last place I want to be.
It’s my senior year and I should be feeling on top of the social ladder at the boarding school I’ve attended for the last three years of my life, but all I feel is…
Trapped. Tired.
Completely over it.
Despite Lancaster Prep being the most prestigious private high school in the entire country and owned by my family, I’m bored out of my skull. I’d rather be anywhere than here, but every Lancaster is forced to go to this God forsaken school because it’s tradition.
I wish I could tell tradition to fuck right off, but here I am. Stuck in high school. I feel like I’ve been here forever. How am I going to survive one more year?
My sister attends Lancaster Prep too. Edie is a sophomore and a bit of a troublemaker, though I can’t blame her for acting out. Pretty sure she’s bored too. But her sometimes erratic behavior means I can’t count on her for shit, which means I can’t count on anyone. And as the responsible—gimme a break—oldest child and eldest son of George and Miriam Lancaster, my parents remind me constantly that I have an image to maintain.
Goddamn if that isn’t stressful.
My cousins before me attended this school and ruled it with an iron fist, reigning over their peers—sometimes even the faculty and admin—however they wanted. Grant. Finn. Whittaker—the worst of them all, though Grant is a close second to Whit. Even Crew, who’s the youngest son of my uncle Reggie, was known as a giant asshole.
Until he fell in love. Cue the puking emoji. That’s the last thing I want right now. I’m too young to settle down and fall in love.
Sounds like a nightmare.
I tried to graduate early. I had enough credits and wanted to take a gap year, but my parents wouldn’t allow it. They don’t care if I’m bored and the classes don’t stimulate me. They could give fuck all about my genius IQ or the fact that I could test out of here today. They claimed I was too irresponsible to travel all over Europe by myself for a year. Talk about an insult.
My parents have zero faith in me.
Doesn’t help that not even a week ago, I had a huge bash to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. All of my friends—and plenty of people I don’t even know—showed up at my parents’ house in the Hamptons while they were on vacation in the Bahamas. We fucked that place up—it was great.
Until I got into a raging argument with my then-girlfriend, Cadence.
Someone caught us and filmed the entire fight, then proceeded to post it on social media. Mom and Dad eventually saw the post—pretty sure Edie showed them but she will neither confirm nor deny—along with the hoard of teenagers crowded in their backyard and spilling out of the house. The evidence of alcohol and drugs scattered everywhere, all over my mother’s precious furniture and rugs, leaving behind a mess in pretty much every single room.
Busted.
According to my parents, that’s the main reason I’m not allowed to leave Lancaster early.
“You may be eighteen and too smart for your own good, but you’re still an immature little shit who can’t control yourself when left alone,” Father yelled at me, his face as red as a tomato.
“And someone damaged the Pollock, dear,” Mother complained as she literally clutched the pearls wrapped around her neck.
It took everything I had not to roll my eyes and say something rude. There’s a slight dent in the ugly ass art piece that she’s referring to, but no one would notice. And my father literally has no idea what he’s talking about. I can control myself just fine.
I merely choose not to most of the time.
Life is meant to belived. I hate being told what to do.
“Bro.” I glance up to find John Joseph Richards—my best friend, otherwise known as JJ—standing in front of me, his hand held out for a slap, which I automatically give. “What are you doing here?”
This is where things get sticky. I told everyone who mattered—only a select few—that I wasn’t coming back. I had plans to get the fuck out of here, once and for all. The rolling green hills and ivy-covered buildings were going to be nothing but a distant memory if I had my way.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get my way.
“Ready to start senior year.” I shrug, before I roll up my sleeves. I wear only a few pieces of my uniform, leaving the heavy wool jacket back in my room. Bucking tradition when we’re supposed to be fully dressed like the good little soldiers they expect us to be.
Fuck that. I’m going to do whatever I want because I’m a Lancaster.
