Page 1 of The Good Girl

Chapter One

Elena

Attending Silvercrest Academy is like living in a fishbowl, everyone knows every dirty little secret about everyone else, or at least they think they do. If they knew even a quarter of the things The Society hid, they wouldn’t look at us in the same way ever again. Wealth is what makes this town run, and if you have it, you’re one of us. You’re protected, no matter the cost, no matter what depraved, disgusting thing you did. But make no mistake, you are also a pawn, a body to be bartered and traded with, like players on a baseball team. Everyone is seeking to progress, to move further up the ladder or secure family ties. If they told you it was like a rope around your neck, you wouldn’t think it was so wonderful, but building an empire sounds much sweeter rolling off the tongue, doesn’t it?

That’s what Tristan Radcliffe is, the rope cutting into my flesh, burning my skin as it is pulled tighter and tighter. I hate him for it.

“Come on, we’re going to be late for class if we don’t go now,” Serena, my best friend, says as she tugs on the sleeve of my blouse. We’d left campus to grab some lunch at a nearby coffee shop, and just as we are about to leave, I notice him standing in the doorway. Blocking our exit.

I sigh, grabbing my bag. I know that in this tiny town there is no avoiding him, but lately, he’s like my shadow. I enjoyed this coffee shop because it wasn’t the closest one to school, meaning it was usually pretty quiet. The walls were lined with books and works from local artists, the soft green walls soothing somehow. I also chose it because the chance of running into him here was low, but it seemed the universe was out to get me.

Clenching my jaw, I give Serena a tight smile; today, he’s got company in the form of Blythe Tanner, the daughter of a bookshop owner. She’s nothing, her parents don’t warrant her a second glance, but Tristan likes to try and get under my skin. His arm is draped over her shoulder, while she looks up at him lovingly. Why couldn’t she be richer? From a more influential family? They’d be perfect together. Why couldn’t it be her instead?

His friends shout across to them as they secure a table, and that’s when he looks up and his eyes lock with mine. The corner of his mouth begins to drag up slowly into a smirk as I clench my fist and exhale slowly. Straightening, I follow Serena and attempt to move past him and Blythe. As we get closer, I can smell the fact that he’s high, and I can’t stop the way my lip curls. He’s the son of Malcom Radcliffe, a business tycoon and from one of the oldest families in Silvercrest, he should know better than to ditch school and get stoned with his cronies.

As I pass, my shoulder brushing against his because there’s no space, he reaches out and grabs my wrist. Blythe looks at us for a moment, confused before Tristan gives her a nod, and she makes her way over to where the others are waiting. Watching. I bet it stings, being dismissed like the help, but that’s what it’s like around here. If you don’t have millions in the bank, you’re expendable.

“Let go,” I say, my voice low. Whenever I’m around Tristan, I’m careful to keep my face neutral and my voice steady otherwise I’d create a commotion over the fact he’s dared to lay a hand on me. I’m the daughter of the mayor. I can’t afford to make a scene. I need to behave.

His touch is like fire on my skin as his strong fingers stay firmly where they are, digging into my flesh.

“Or what?” His voice is calm, but the look in his dark eyes is dangerous. He looks like a wolf, cornering his prey, and I refuse to lay down and be served up to him on a platter like a beautiful braised lamb shank. He leans down, his face inches from mine as I feel his warm breath on my cheeks. There’s no denying that he’s handsome, with his prominent cheekbones, sharp jawline, and dark hair that’s a little on the long side for my taste, but that doesn’t mean I want him invading my space. I refuse to welcome his touch.

“You’re high,” I sneer, trying to push him away with my shoulder. “Get your shit together, Tristan, and get out of my way. I don’t have time for this.”

He doesn’t move away, instead he leans further forward. With his lips brushing against my ear, he whispers, “In a few months, all your time will be mine, Lena, so enjoy your freedom while you can.”

My parents used to call Lena, and they haven’t done that in a long time. I hate that Tristan has been embedded in my life since we were children, it means he knows how to push my buttons. He always wanted to test my limits, daring me to climb higher, to go first, to break the rules, but I wasn’t so eager to impress any longer.

Pulling away, I scowl at him as I hiss, “Fucking Douchebag.”

Grinning, he teases, “Fucking Princess.”

We both watch each other carefully, waiting for god knows what. Minutes pass by with Tristan refusing to let go and me unable to look away.

“Elena,” Serena calls softly, breaking the spell. I’d forgotten that she was still there. That they all were. Tristan’s little gang of misfits watch us with guarded expressions. We may all be wearing the Silvercrest uniform, but we were not all the same, and they knew it. My eyes flick over to Clayton, the only one worth a glance, as we share a nod, but the others are just wasters and stoners.

“Until next time,” Tristan says softly, before walking over to where Blythe is shooting daggers my way. Blythe is nothing but a blip in his life, she just doesn’t know it yet.

We climb into Serena’s Mini Cooper without saying anything. It isn’t until we pull up to the school that she gives me a hard look. “What was that?”

I shrug and grab my planner out of my bag. “Nothing.”

Serena’s family was new money, but they weren’t in The Society just yet. I liked that about her though, it meant I could have a normal friendship without the ties attached even if she could be a little judgmental sometimes. However, it also meant she was oblivious to how things really worked around here. One day she would know, her family would be initiated and then everything would change. But that day wasn’t anytime soon if I was going by the snatches of conversation I’d overheard coming from my father’s office.

Serena looks like her eyes are about to pop out of her head. “Tristan Radcliffe grabbing you and giving you ‘fuck-me vibes’ isn’t nothing. I thought you hated him?”

I hate him because he’s my future.

Because I have no choice.

Because this is my life.

“I do,” I reply calmly as I look at my schedule. I have some things I need to organize for the pep rally with the rest of the cheerleading squad, and I also need to discuss something about the debate club trip with Principal Anderson. If I didn’t get this done by the end of the day, it would delay everything else, and I didn’t have time in my schedule for delays.

I didn’t want to be a cheerleader, but my mother had been the captain of the squad when she attended Silvercrest. I also hadn’t wanted to be in the debate club, but my father insisted that it would look good on my college applications. That’s just the way things were in my life.

“I thought he only bothered with the stoners, why’s he trying to hit on you now?” Serena muses as we get out of the car and start walking into Silvercrest Academy, an elite high school for the rich, funded by The Society and used as a tool for maintaining control over Silvercrest since everyone wanted their children to attend.

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