Elite (Eagle Elite #1)(11)

“Night, Boots.” Monroe laughed and turned off the light to her side of the room.

I threw on the shorts and tank top. My eyes landed on the box from grandma. I sat cross-legged on the bed and opened it.

Monroe was right. It was okay to cry. Grandma’s happy smile stared back at me through a picture we had taken last summer. I touched the glass and allowed myself a few selfish tears. What would her advice be? What would she tell me?

“Keep your head high. Ain’t nothing to look at on the ground,” I mumbled her favorite phrase and laughed through my tears. Tomorrow would be hard, but I was chosen, I was here, and I was going to earn it. Nixon better watch his back because I, Tracey Rooks, was here to stay.





Chapter Six The sound of music catapulted me out of my bed at lightning speed. Monroe was standing in front of the mirror dancing and singing while eating Cheerios. Now why hadn’t I thought to bring my own food?

“Want some?” she asked as a Cheerio dropped out of her mouth. Well, beggars can’t be choosers.

I nodded.

“My stash is under the bed, take what you want, you’ll need your strength today. Oh, and this came for you.” She went to the door and picked up a large box.

“Huh? Who from?”

Monroe took another bite of Cheerios and shrugged. “I don’t know. One of the Resident Directors dropped it off like at six AM. I almost punched her in the face.”

I laughed. Yes. I could totally see that happening. At least she wasn’t a total morning person. Though I wasn’t sure I would ever get used to her off-pitch singing in the mornings.

“Open it, whore!”

“Whoa, okay, fine.” I pulled apart the box. A note fluttered to the floor. Picking it up, I read the scribble and gasped.

They aren’t your grandma’s shoes. So I know they don’t have the same meaning. But I wanted you to have something to make you smile on your first day of classes. Sorry about last night.

Chase

“Oh my hell, Chase Winter just sent you a present!” Monroe clapped her hands together. “I can’t believe this! He never does things without Nixon’s consent.”

I shrugged. “Maybe he asked permission from Nixon?”

“No, this has Chase written all over it.” She beamed and pointed to the box. “Do you have any idea how much all of this stuff costs?”

“No.” I looked at the school uniform in the box, the knee-highs and Italian leather boots. I’d briefly forgotten that the brochure had boasted about E.E. making students wear uniforms to keep everyone, well, uniform.

“At least ten grand I’d say…” Monroe looked inside the boots. “Yup, they are an original Win.”

“Huh?”

“W-i-n,” she said slowly. “As in the beginning of Chase’s last name. His parents dabble in fashion design. They make high end accessories, boots, and scarves. Lucky you, last time I got a pair of these I was twelve, and it was because I promised Chase I’d get my friend to French kiss him.”

“I can’t accept these.” I pushed the box far away from me.

“Sure you can, and when you see Chase you give him a giant hug in front of everyone. I’m proud of him. He’s finally grown a pair.”

“A pair of… what?”

“Balls.” Monroe threw me a wicked smile and pointed to the outfit. “Put it on and get ready, Boots.” She clapped her hands together. “Perfect, now I really can call you Boots. You know, because he got you over the knee, one of a kind leather Win boots that will make every girl on this floor want to murder you where you stand.”

“Great, more fans.” I pumped my fist lamely into the air.

“Just wear them, whore, before I help them kill you and steal them off your cold lifeless corpse.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “But first food and then coffee.”

She threw the Cheerio box at my head. “The breakfast of champions. Eat up.”

“Right.” I snorted. “Especially considering I only have two meal passes.”

Monroe froze. “What did you say?”

“Your idiot brother gave me an access card with two meal passes. Remember? I told you that yesterday.”

She squinted as if trying to remember and then asked. “What lunch are you in?”

I shrugged. How was I supposed to know?

She rolled her eyes and held out her hand. I snagged the card from my desk and put it in her hand. She flipped it over and typed the bar code into the website on her computer.

“I can’t believe it.” She shook her head.

“What? What’s wrong? Don’t tell me he lied! I’m going to starve!” I yelled toward the ceiling and stomped my foot. I was from Wyoming. I liked my food.

“He, um…” Monroe scratched her head. “He put you with us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nobody sits with us. It’s a private lunch period only for…” Monroe snapped her mouth shut. “You know what? Nevermind. Let’s get you ready so we’re not late.”

****

Monroe wasn’t with me in my first class which was some sort of politics class. I hadn’t really been one for politics, but because most of the people who went to school here ended up being world leaders, it was considered core curriculum. I looked to my left where a kid pulled out a flask.