Page 12 of The Heiress
“Come on, let’s get a table,” Taylor said, not unkindly, but it was certainly dismissive, like I’d imposed on Phoenix for far too long.
Phoenix headed over to a nearby table, leaving me alone with my racing heart and quivering spine. A gust of air coming through the door spurred me to move out of the way of an incoming bunch of girls. I made a dash over to the refrigerator, taking a bottle of juice and a pre-packaged breakfast muffin, not what I’d intended, but I was in a fluster, not thinking clearly.
I slunk off to the nearest empty table, distressed that my actions had almost hurt Phoenix, that I’d been so caught up in my own miserable existence that I was now a harm to others. Gah, I’d wanted to be invisible at Covington Prep, but I’d inadvertently made an enemy of Beth Van der Wal, and now I’d added Taylor Frank and Phoenix Carter to the list. And that wasn’t a good thing. Taylor looked like a girl who would take no nonsense, plus from what I could gather, she dated Phoenix’s best friend, Max, also in my photography class.
As if on cue, Max entered and scouted the room. A wide smile crossed his face on seeing Taylor holding a tray containing enough food for two. A curious pang of jealousy struck me as he made a beeline toward Taylor, like she’d lit a spark within him. I wondered what that was like—being so smitten with someone that you personified joy and radiance when seeing them.
“Hey, this isn’t yours. It’s for Phoenix.” I could hear Taylor’s voice behind me. “Get your own.” It was followed by a giggle and a low murmur.
I kept my head down, chewing on the banana muffin and ruminating on the plastic packaging it came in. Sure, it was recyclable but it was pretty much unnecessary, and I was annoyed I’d taken it.
But that’s how I was these days, annoyed at a lot of things.
Annoyed at everything.
In a startling revelation, I realized I hadn’t had one single day of happiness since arriving at Covington Prep.
Not one. Not one day without tears, of my pillow case being soaked. Not one day of clarity, my mind constantly juggling thoughts of sadness and anger and abandonment. Up until today I’d survived on schoolwork and hope. Oddly enough, I found most classes and teachers okay, and the expectation that I’d go home at Thanksgiving meant I’d been counting down the days. But now that dream was dashed, and I wasn’t sure I could get through to winter break on my own.
I shoved back my chair and closed my eyes for a second, fearing the return of more tears. I had an intense yearning to feel sorry for myself. I would go back to my room and tell Mrs. Pritchard that the banana muffin had given me a stomach ache. I’d lie down on my bed, curl up in a ball and wallow in self-pity.
After taking in a deep breath, I stood, ready to trash the remains of the muffin and disappear.
But you can’t disappear when someone is watching you.
Across the room, Phoenix Carter was staring in my direction, his brow furrowed as if he was sickened by the very sight of me.
Chapter 5
Phoenix
Iwas quite focusedon setting goals and ticking them off my list. Spending months in rehab waiting for my body to heal, I had kept adding to it.
Driving was near the top of the list, right beneath playing tennis again. Tennis was number one—a simple, bold goal: To play tennis again.
Priya, one of my therapists, was the one who told me to keep it uncomplicated—no need to be heavy on details or particulars. I didn’t have to say I wanted to lead the Covington Aces to the state championships or win the Junior Mid West or Wimbledon. No, playing tennis was enough. So too, was going back to school—now ticked off—driving, walking without any aids, running a mile. I shouldn’t put unnecessary pressure on myself and it didn’t matter what order things were done.
