Chapter 1
It had been a rough year. After mom died, I just couldn’t handle it, thus the suicide attempt. I’m not trying to sound routine about it, but what am I supposed to say? I was in a dark place and just wanted life to be over, ya know?
Fortunately, I had a good doctor. She helped me realize life wasn’t so bad. Yeah, I’m still depressed, but I’m fighting through it. Then something truly crazy happened.
The doctor tracked down my dad, Kyle Cohen. Yeah, that Kyle Cohen. The star of Radio Man, Conquer of the Tigers and, more recently, Shade of the Vampire. It was weird enough finally finding my dad, but even weirder to know he was one of the most famous guys on the planet right now.
Naturally, there was a lot of suspicion at first. Eventually, dad’s lawyers came around to confirm it. I was half hoping it wasn’t true, but then it was. Then I was worried about some kind of crazy, emotional reunion. You know, like in the movies. Dad would get out of a car and see me, I would see him, we’d hug and he’d say something reassuring.
But that only happens in the movies.
He called. The conversation was awkward. I can’t totally blame him; I was in a psych ward and he had never met me. He did, in his own way, take care of me I guess. I’m not sure bundling me off to a private academy was the best decision, but what else was he going to do? Take a total stranger into his house and just suddenly start loving them?
I guess these things take time and frankly, I was willing to give him some distance. My plan was to graduate, get a job and once I had my life together, I’d go see dad. He’d see I wasn’t crazy and then we could be friends.
When I got to Brentmoor, I was a bit stunned. Sure, I had checked the place out online, but it was nothing like the pictures. It was massive and old. The ivy-covered walls reminded me of the garden in the psyche ward only with way more people in it.
After mom passed, the lawyers sold the house to cover her medical bills and mine. My stuff was put into storage, along with mom’s car, which was now mine. I basically emptied out the storage unit when I got out of the ward and drove to the school.
I left some furniture behind, but it wasn’t of any use to me. I told the storage unit place they could toss it. I was starting a new life.
Riding with all my worldly possession in the car is how I entered the campus. I went to the admissions office. Dad (or probably one of his lawyers) had taken care of everything. I had a room assignment, a meal plan and even a budget for books and whatever school stuff I needed. It felt a little like a buy off, but I was okay with that. I needed time to adjust.
I got my key and headed to my dorm assignment. Walking to my room, I noticed the massive building that was our dorm. It was a converted mansion once owned by Jebidiah Brentmoor, although probably not the one he lived in. I had read that the dorm rooms often had strange layouts because they basically had to just build walls within existing rooms to create dorm rooms. After a bit of a hike, I found my room, put in the key and went inside.
Inside, there was a black girl lounging on one of the beds swiping on her phone. She had long, brown, curly hair, big eyes, and long fingernails. She was wearing the school uniform but had hiked up the skirt a bit. She looked up from her phone.
“Hi, I’m Ivy,” I greeted. “I think this is my room.”
“Yep! Hey! I’m Victoria Westbrook, but you can call me Tori,” she smiled, standing up. “Give me a hug, roomie!”
“Thanks,” I smiled.
“Sit down, let’s talk,” she said, guiding me to her bed. “Let’s get to know each other.”
“Um, okay,” I agreed.
“My family’s originally from North Carolina. My dad’s an admiral in the navy,” she explained. “I was born in Weddington outside of Charlotte, but I grew up around here. What about you?”
“Oh, uh, I grew up outside of Pittsburgh and… That’s about it,” I replied a little shyly.
“What about your family?” she prodded, with a sweet smile.
“It was just me and my mom, but I lost her last year to cancer,” I revealed, looking down.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry, I had no idea,” she sympathized.
“Yeah, it was tough, but some good came out of it,” I explained. “They tracked down my dad and he was able to send me here.”
“Wait, so you didn’t know who your father was?” she asked.
“No, it was…My mother got pregnant and raised me herself,” I told her. “But now that I found out Kyle Cohen is my dad I…”
“Wait, the Kyle Cohen? The movie star?!” she squealed, suddenly changing gears. “Oh, my God I love him! You must be so excited!”
“Well, you know, it’s a mixed bag,” I tried to explain. “I don’t really know him, so--- I have a half-sister that goes here though. Heather Cohen. Do you know her?”
“Are you kidding?” she said, taken aback. “Your half-sister is Heather? That is crazy. We’re best friends.”
“Oh!”
“Well, we used to be.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, it’s awkward,” admitted Tori.
“Why aren’t you guys best friends anymore?” I asked.
“It’s kind of a long story,” she said looking away. “But we should get you settled in. Let me help you unpack.”
Tori went to the box of stuff I had brought and opened the lid. It had some of my old clothes in it.
“Are these your clothes?” she asked.
“Yeah, some of them.”
“Girl, we gotta get you to the store,” she insisted. “You need a makeover and I need to give a makeover.”
“I don’t really have a lot of money for that kind of thing,” I admitted.
“This is Brentmoor,” she laughed. “Money is no object. It’s on me. And my dad’s credit card has no limit. And neither do I!”
“Oh, that’s okay,” I dismissed. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Oh, no, did I embarrass you?” she asked, genuinely worried. “I feel so bad.”
“No-no, it’s fine,” I said. “It’s just been really hard this past year without my mom.”
“Did you see a therapist? I see one sometimes,” she admitted. “Life can be hard. I would definitely do that if one of my parents died.”
“I did,” I confessed, not wanting to get into the details. “I saw one for quite a while, in fact. She really helped me.”
“That’s good,” she said, a little awkward. “If I talk too much, just let me know.”
“No, I’m the awkward one,” I insisted. “I haven’t been around people. I mean, my social skills have kind of withered.”
“Then you’re in luck because socializing is practically my major,” she smiled. “I know all the players on campus. Your half-sister, for one.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, interested.
“Just so you know, she’s kind of hard to deal with,” said Tori. “Not that I’m bad-mouthing her.”
“I don’t even know her, so…”
“Well, either way, I wouldn’t bad mouth family. Family is everything according to my dad.”
“How did you get to know people if you’re a freshman like me?” I asked.
“There was an orientation week,” she mentioned. “I guess you missed it. It was a blast! Plus, a lot of us go way back. Attended the same schools and all.”
There was a long pause. I wish I was better at talking to people.
“I should get the rest of my stuff out of the car,” I offered. “Then we’ll talk some more.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’ll help by…sorting these.”
Tori started sorting my clothes, but I got the distinct impression she was just eyeing up the ones to throw away. I wouldn’t mind new clothes, but I was feeling a little fat after my stay in the psych ward. There wasn’t much of an opportunity to exercise and I was so bored, I just ate.
Going back to the car, I noticed one of the other students looking at it.
“Look at that piece of shit,” he muttered. “Guess one of the maintenance crew forgot where to park.”
I waited a few seconds and he walked away. Jeez, these kids were really spoiled. Tori seemed nice if a little clueless. I guess when you grow up in the lap of luxury, you don’t really have a good gauge on how the other half lives.
Grabbing a couple of more boxes, I headed back to the room. Tori waited, having spread all my clothes in the first box into neat piles. I was doing all the grunt work carrying the boxes. I guess it never occurred to her to offer to carry some instead of waiting in the room for me to come back.
Still, it was a sweet gesture. She was trying to be nice and I needed more nice people in my life right now. There was no sense making an issue out of it, especially this early in our roommate relationship.
After two more trips, I brought in some milk crates. I figured they’d be good for storage and I had heard that’s what all the academy students used. I dug them out of a dumpster and cleaned them, but they were gray and a little battered.
“What are you those?” asked Tori.
“Milk crates,” I said. “I dunno. I thought, you know, for storage.”
“Hmm,” she replied, trying to warm up to the idea. “You know, I have some bandanas. If I drape them over, they might make nice end tables or something. Do you mind if I experiment with them a little?”
“No, I guess not,” I shrugged. “I could just get rid of them if you don’t like…”
“No-no-no, of course not!” she insisted. “These--- these will be great.”
“You know what,” I said coming back into the room and shutting the door. “I should be more real with you. We both should be.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I’m poor because my mother died of cancer--- It ate all our savings and I lost her house--- It broke me--- Emotionally. I had a breakdown. I spent the last nine months in therapy,” I confessed. “I just want it all out in the open because--- Well, I don’t really have any friends right now. I want us to be friends and I want honesty.”
“Wow, okay,” she said, reeling a little. “All right. I hate these milk crates. I want to decorate this room really awesome because I was best friends with your half-sister and now, we’re not. I don’t want to give her any ammo to criticize me. Or you. Does that sound insecure?”
“A little, but it’s honest,” I exhaled. “Makes me feel better.”
“Did we just bond?” she laughed.
“Yeah, I think we did!” I exclaimed, giving her a hug.
The tension and awkwardness were suddenly gone. I knew right then and there that Tori and I would be good friends. Maybe best friends.
My therapist was right. I had put myself out there. I took a risk and the risk paid off big. I had a new friend, a new roommate, and I was feeling more comfortable with myself by the minute. So what if I had a bunch of poor clothes? I was poor. I just had to own that. This was just a moment in time and there were better things around the corner.
On the fourth trip to the car, I returned and found most of my clothes in one big, neat pile.
“Which pile is that?” I asked.
“That’s the pile I think we should donate to Goodwill,” announced Tori. “The moment I get you in a store.”
“Aw, c’mon, is it that bad?” I asked. “I like that sweatshirt.”
“That is only for lounging around the room.”
“That’s kind of what my mother would say,” I kidded.
“Oh, I’m like your mom,” Tori said, touched. “But it’s not all bad. I like this top and these jeans.”
I headed out of the room and back to the car. This time, I tried to carry three boxes at once. Not being able to see too well, I figured that most people would move out of my way or that someone would open a door for me. Fat chance. Everyone on this campus was so absorbed in their phones they weren’t looking where they were going. That’s when I ran into Sebastian.
Stumbling into him, the boxes and their contents went flying in every direction. Sebastian was tall, muscular and wearing the school uniform. Something about that uniform made everyone look good. His black hair and perfectly symmetrical face looked down upon me with those bright brown eyes.
Instantly, I was smitten. Who wouldn’t be? I mean, my dad was a world-famous actor and Sebastian was at least as good--- No, twice as good looking.
I fell back on my hands, staring up at him dumbly. For a few seconds, he didn’t realize what happened. He just looked around at all the clutter on the sidewalk and in the grass, sort of wondering why anyone would carry that much junk around, I guess.
Then he spoke and his voice was a deep baritone. The vibrations of that voice cut through me and rattled my insides. I didn’t know his name yet, but I wanted to. I wanted to know everything about him.
“S-s-sorry,” I stammered. “I was carrying too much stuff. From my car. I was unloading my car.”
Nice start, Ivy. Jeez.
“No worries,” he smiled, offering a hand. “I’m Sebastian Lattimore and who might you be?”
“Ivy Jones,” I said, taking his hand and letting him pull me to my feet.
I could feel the strength in his body as he righted me. His strength and confidence were very alluring. Staring at his face, I became lost in his eyes a moment.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ivy,” he smiled. “Please, let me help you with all this. You’re Kyle Cohen’s daughter, aren’t you?”
“Um, yeah, I am,” I said a little awkwardly. “How did--- I just got here. How did you know that?”
“My friends and I take it upon ourselves to know everything about our classmates,” he grinned. “I’ve done quite a bit of research on you and everyone, of course, knows the name of Kyle Cohen.”
I noticed people starting to stare and I was getting the distinct impression this was going someplace else. At first, I thought he was flirting with me, but now it was like he was sizing me up. He was picking up my belongings and putting them back into the box, but looking at them with contempt.
“We all know who are you, Ms. Jones,” he said mildly sinister.
