Page 11 of To Love or to Lose
“Okay, okay.”
Eloise is clearly much more equipped in stair climbing than I am, but in my defense, the stairs of this school are steep, which is proven by the copious number of freshmen who trip up and down them at the beginning of every year.
When we make it to the top of the stairs, we hear over the intercom, “Genevieve Alderidge and Jameson Beaumont please report to Headmaster Whiting’s office before first hour.”
“What do you think that’s about?”Eloise asks.
“They’re probably going to make me pretend to be his friend, give him a tour of the school, and offer to let him sit with us at lunch. All downsides of being the smartest person at school.”
I turn back toward the staircase, since the main office is on the first floor.
“Who knows, you might get along just fine with the new boy,” Eloise tells me. “Don’t be too long, I still want to see you a bit today.”
I smile. “I’ve mastered the tour of this school; it’ll take me fifteen minutes tops.”She laughs, and I head back down the stairs, taking notice of the new memorabilia I haven’t seen before. Portraits of the different clubs and sports teams, as well as cases of trophies.
All going to show how materialistic Fairwood is, how impartial they are to anything other than greatness.
I’m sitting in one of the leather chairs in Headmaster Whiting’s office when she arrives.
The girl from the lake, the one who scored a 1580 on the SAT.
I know her name is Genevieve Alderidge, and that she’s friends with Logan. I know little else about her though.
She sits next to me, in the chair identical to mine.
“Jameson, this is Genevieve Alderidge. She has been top of her class since her freshman year.”
I look toward her. Her long brown hair falls to her mid back and drapes over the back of the chair. Her greenish-blue eyes are staring pointedly out the window.
She looks somewhat scary, but not unpleasantly, more in a way that makes me question her intentions.
I conclude that whatever happens in this meeting could determine my fate for the rest of the school year, because this girl looks like she could make my life a living hell.
“Hi,” she says, not seeming to care for my presence.
“Hello,” I reply, adding a smile.
I never got close enough to her when we were at Hagen’s Lake to notice her entirely. Now, I feel as if I’m too close, like I can see every freckle on her face.And there are plenty of them to focus on, all scattered across her cheeks and nose like miniature constellations.
However, I shouldn’t be concerned with her freckles, because all I think when I look at her is ‘how the hell did this girl get a 1580 on the SAT?’
The only reason I took the SAT was to prove I could get a good score on it, since it isn’t required in London like it is in the US.
I was proud of my score before hers was revealed. I knew mine was well above average, but hearing hers made me question every answer I had put down on that Scantron.
I didn’t even think a 1580 was fucking possible.
I’m broken from my thoughts when the Headmaster begins speaking again. “I’m going to be honest with you two, because I have never been in this situation before.”
Genevieve sits up in her chair, scooting forward so she’s sitting on the edge. “A situation like what?”
Headmaster Whiting looks at the ceiling, conflicted, before letting out a sigh and saying, “You are both in the running for Valedictorian.”
Based on all the cliche films I have seen, if Genevieve were drinking water right now, this is the moment where she would spit it out everywhere. “What are you talking about?” She chokes out.
I stay quiet. Genevieve’s expression makes me realize what Headmaster Whiting said has officially made me her worst enemy.
Yup, she definitely would be spitting water at me if she had the chance.
