Page 10 of The Pawn

At the table, Blake’s head comes up at the sound of Lukas’ shout. He cocks a brow in Tanner’s direction, then fixes his eyes on me.

Dark brown eyes, thick black brows, an unsmiling mouth that’s like a straight line.

He barely even looks at me, taking in my plain brown hair, my department store outfit, and the drug store makeup on my face before he flicks his eyes back to Tanner.

And he mouths, no doubt thinking I’m too much of a hick to lip read,Really? This girl?

In response, Tanner just grins and puts his hand on the small on my back. He manages to steer me towards the tour group for two whole steps before I swiftly extricate myself from his grip, face burning, fists clenching tight despite the pain in my palm.

If I'm crazy, they made me that way when they took my twin away.

And I'll show them how far someone with nothing left to lose will go to get revenge.

Chapter 5

The appointment at the end of the tour is, it turns out, at the registrar's office. I get my class schedule—one with very little choice of electives, since I was the last student to enroll—and have my photo taken for my student ID. When I stare down at the photo of me, wan from a summer spent indoors, mousy brown hair frizzy even in the cool Connecticut weather, I see a girl who doesn't belong.

"Your ID will let you in and out of Rosalind Hall at all times of day, which is where you're assigned to sleep, along with all the other freshmen girls." The woman who hands over the ID looks like she's said this speech a hundred times and has ceased to give a shit about any questions she may or may not give me time to ask.

"The funds from your scholarship stipend are on it, and can be used at the dining area in the Great Hall, the cafe in Carthage Library, or the bookshop. It has a limit of two-hundred-and-fifty dollars," she warns me, as if I could possibly spend that much money in one place, "and covers books, perishable goods, and other necessities. It doesnotcover entertainment, cable packages for the television in your room, or other fun things you kids like to try to use it for. It isnota credit card. Got it?"

"Crystal clear." The thought of trying to rent a movie with my student ID sounds ridiculous, but maybe some of the kids who get this thing go a little crazy, surrounded by so many rich kids but without any funds themselves. "Do I get a room key?"

"Your ID is your room key. The door will lock behind you, so don't lose it. A replacement is fifty dollars—and yes, we'll charge you even if you lose it today, even if you lose it in this very room. It isnotto be given out to another student, especially a student of the opposite sex, especially a boy you plan on sneaking into your room after hours. So keep it close."

"Of course. I'll tape it to my chest."

She doesn't even crack a smile at my lame joke—not that I blame her, given that she probably deals with spoiled rich kids day in, day out. I can only imagine how many have claimed theylosttheir ID only to give out a second copy to someone not allowed in their dorm.

"I'm done." I hold up my ID to show Wally and Mom; Lukas and Tanner waited for me outside the registrar's office, since apparently they got their IDs already. "What's next?"

"The last event of the day, and then you won't have to hear me drone on about crenellations any longer."

"Thank fuck," Tanner grouses, "I almost fell asleep back there at Lawrence Hall when you talked about the renovations done to the back garden. Kill me the next time you decide to discuss architecture and bullshit for longer than thirty seconds.”

Checking my schedule, I see that we're scheduled to go to an orientation speech by Dean Rupert Simmons with every incoming student and visitor on campus in attendance. Lukas leads us to it at an ambling pace, clearly not in a hurry even through our tour group is behind all the others and has been all morning. A stage has been set up in the outdoor area, along with rows of chairs for everyone to watch. There is, of course, a VIP area up front, roped off, with goodie bags and extra shade—no doubt it's where the rich families get to sit, away from commoners like me, my mom, and Wally.

"Well, this is where we part." Lukas cranes his head towards the front. "Any last questions for me?"

I can think of a few, like:why did you join your friend Cole in accusing my brother of being responsible for what happened to that girl during orientation week,or,what makes you think you're so different from the rest of the teenagers around you.Maybe a bonus, like,is it true that your parents' marriage broke up because of cheating, and if so, are you really your father's son?

But none of those questions are meant for polite company, and my mom is still here, blissfully unaware of the hatred that's festering inside me. Once she and Wally are gone, I'll start gathering intel for my plan and ruining these boys' lives—but not while she's still here, frail and faded, watching her last family member be thrown to the wolves.

"No questions, no."

"I have a question," Wally says. I elbow him in the side, but he just ignores me. "The orientation packet said something about off-campus excursions being a privilege. Does that mean Brenna won't be able to come home on the weekends?"

Blushing, I remind Wally, "I don't have a car."

"Yeah, but I could pick you up." He shrugs. "Who cares if it's a long round trip? Sleep is for the weak. And you should come home."

Lukas answers, "The designated off campus trips are usually of the team and character-building variety. As far as trips home are concerned, usually they have to be scheduled. The administration frowns on too many vacations."

"More like our parents don't want us coming home too often." Tanner makes a disdainful noise. "They keep us here as much as possible. That includes you, Singed Meat."

"My, you know a lot of adjectives to put in front of the word meat," I mock him. "You should come up with something new."

His smirk turns mocking. "Oh, I’ll think of something."

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