Ever After (East Raven Academy Book 1)(3)

“How long do you think it’ll be before I can go home?” I ask.

“It could be a while,” Uncle Matty says. “Get comfortable.”

I highly doubt I will ever be comfortable at boarding school, but maybe he’s right. I don’t exactly have a choice.

This is my life now.

I might as well make the most of it.





2pm.





Orientation.





How a person decorates their personal space says a lot about them.

For instance, if somebody looked at my side of the dorm room, they might think I’m a little bit OCD. Everything is black and white. I have a black and white chevron patterned comforter. I have a white chair sitting at my black desk. I have a huge, furry, black rug that covers a lot of the floor. My black bookshelf has all my books arranged in alphabetical order. The clothes and shoes in my closet are arranged by color and style.

My roommate is a different story.

Her side of the room is not messy by any standard, though it is the first day. I hope she’s clean. But her side is green and black, which happens to be the school colors. She has a cork board that has a ton of pictures on it, and at the top, there is a huge East Raven Academy sticker. I don’t want to be nosey, but I do look at a few of the pictures. She’s in a soccer uniform in a lot of pictures, and in one, she even has a green raven painted on her face. I can already tell this girl has got some major team spirit.

Go team.

But seriously, I have never been to a sporting event at school. Ever. I played soccer back home, but it was a team separate from the school. I am pretty sure that this girl is going to hate me, based on that fact alone.

Who knows... maybe I will go to a sports game while I’m here. There really isn’t anything else to do, considering I am stuck on campus.

The door opens, startling me for a second. I glance over and see a girl with dirty blonde hair walk in. Her hair is all piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she has a pair of designer shades pushed up. She smiles big when she sees me, revealing bright white teeth.

Good to know dental hygiene is important at this school.

“Hey,” she says, walking over to me. “I’m Teagan Hudson.”

“I’m Phoenix.” Crap. What’s my last name? Ah, right. “Underwood.”

“You’re so cute,” she says, then pauses. “Sorry if that sounded creepy. I’m not a creep, I promise.”

Me?

Cute?

On what planet?

“Thanks,” I say, feeling a little awkward.

She smiles brightly again.

I really hope she doesn’t smile all the time.

Okay, that makes me sound really cynical. But I’m not. Mostly. I just find people who are overly happy all the time to be annoying. I know from experience that happiness is an illusion. It doesn’t exist. At least, not for long periods of time. So, happy people just seem... fake.

“I can tell we’re going to be good friends,” Teagan says.

I hope so. Really, I do.

I force a smile, trying to be friendly. She and I are probably going to be spending a lot of time together in this tiny room, and I’d rather not spend the entire year with somebody who can’t stand me.

“We should probably go to orientation,” she says.

“Isn’t orientation just for freshman?” I ask.

“Yeah, but they changed it a couple of years back. I guess the staff felt like we needed reminders at the beginning of each year,” Teagan explains. “You’ll understand why, once we go to orientation. Not everybody likes to follow the rules here.”

“Right...” I say, my voice trailing off.

I wonder what happened to make them do that.

What kind of prep school did my parents send me to?

I follow Teagan out the door of our dorm and down the hall. I can’t help but notice just how different we are. She’s blonde. I’m brunette. She has brown eyes. I have blue. She’s tall, like, supermodel kind of tall. And I’m 5’7”—average. She’s wearing a flower-printed maxi dress that falls around her ankles. It’s super bright and makes her stand out. I’m wearing a black t-shirt dress that goes to my knees, and a denim jacket. I blend in.

“So, where are you from?” Tegan asks, as we walk out the front.

The student center is really close, so we just take off walking.

“Calif... Um...” Crap. I can’t cover that up. I’m supposed to be from New York. “Originally, California. My uncle moved us to Manhattan a few months ago. It still doesn’t feel like home.”

“You look like a Cali girl,” she says. “I’m going to say you were from LA...”

“Malibu,” I answer.

“I knew it,” she says, grinning.

“Where are you from?”

“Dallas,” she answers.

“You like going to school on the East Cost?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she answers. “I love shopping, and New York has good shopping. I spring out of here as often as I can and shop. New York City is really close.”

I don’t argue, because NYC does have good shopping. But it’s not worth actually living there. I hate living in the city. I just feel so... trapped. In Malibu, we live on the beach. Sure, we have neighbors, but there is a lot of space between us and the people next door. Plus, the ocean is, literally, out my back door. What’s not to love?