So Into You [The Jane Austen Academy Series #2] (7 page)

As they shut the door, they heard Josh say, "Worst. Party. Ever."

* * *

"You can’t be mad at Lizzie," Ellie pleaded as they walked back to their room.

"Yes, I can," Emma said. "And you should be, too."

"It’s unfair to expect Lizzie to make Dante’s parents give me a free ride just because I’m her friend. Why should anyone have to pay, then, if I don’t?"

"Not just anyone. You," Emma said. "She could at least try. What’s so wrong with trying?"

Ellie felt a pinch in her throat. Emma was right. Lizzie
could
try. Still, it was a horribly unfair thought and a horribly unfair expectation. "Please don’t hate her."

"I don’t hate her. I
like
Lizzie. That’s why I’m mad. I’m disappointed because I know how she fights for what she loves. And she should have fought for you."

"Some things you can’t fight."

Emma stubbornly shrugged. "Agree to disagree."

"Okay . . . but are we still friends?"

Emma stopped, rolled her eyes, and gave Ellie a hug. "Of course, Ellie. We’re still friends."

"Yeah, this is a friendly conversation," a deep voice said from behind them.

Emma and Ellie gasped and whirled around.

Ellie did not recognize the boy standing there. He looked almost like Edward—brown, mussy hair, deep brown eyes—only he was taller and more built and seemed much more tired.

"You’re not the hall monitor," Emma said.

"I never said I was."

"Well, you should go back to your hall," Emma said. "This is the academic corridor. Neutral territory."

"Nothing’s neutral after curfew," he said.

"Please don’t say anything," Ellie said. "We’re going back to our room."

"I never said I was going to say anything." He smiled with amusement. "You two like to make assumptions."

"You’re not in any of our classes," Emma noted, tapping her finger against her lips. "I would have remembered seeing you."

"Because I’m hot?" he asked.

"Because I’m good at remembering people," Emma said.

"Gold star. I’m not in your class."

"Can we have this conversation tomorrow?" Ellie glanced nervously down the hall.

"You’re older, right?" Emma asked. "A senior?"

"Two gold stars."

"Gregory Knight!" Emma announced.

"Just Knight. As in shining armor."

"Yeah? Well, prove it."

Ellie pulled Emma’s arm. "Shhhhhh," she hissed. "If he could hear us, who else can?"

"We all can," Knight said. He leaned his right shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms and his ankles. "We heard you Friday night, too."

Ellie blushed, mortified.

"The classy thing to do is not mention it," Emma said.

"I never said I was classy." Knight smiled. "Assuming again, are we?"

"Can I assume you won’t say anything to the headmistress?" Emma asked.

"How about we leave it a mystery?"

"Come on!" Ellie yanked Emma’s arm and dragged her up the hallway.

"I’ll come after you if you say anything," Emma hissed as she was pulled away.

"But what if I want a reason for you to come after me?" he called.

Ellie pulled Emma into the girls’ wing as Emma fumed. "What a jerk!"

"He won’t say anything," Ellie said.

"Of course he won’t. If he was the type, he wouldn’t have bothered to chat with us at all. But just the fact that he would
imply
."

"He was flirting with you." Why was Emma so clueless about this guy?

"He was not," Emma said. "He was threatening us. Typical senior hazing. I can’t wait until we’re seniors. I will
not
abuse my power like some people."

"I’m pretty sure it was flirting," Ellie said.

Emma shook her head vehemently, her hair dancing about her face. "Even if he was, he’s some stuffy senior. Besides, I’m taken."

"You are?" Ellie asked.

"With Josh, silly."

"You guys are officially dating? Did I miss the announcement?"

"Hardy-har-har. There’s no announcement. We just . . . are."

"I don’t think that’s how it works," Ellie said. "I read online that he’s seeing some actress."

"Celebrity gossip," Emma said. "We totally connected Friday night. Like soul mate stuff. Don’t crinkle your nose at me."

Ellie wanted to tell Emma she was making too much of it. Emma was always trying to twist things just the way she wanted them. She would never just accept the path the universe set for her. She blazed her own.

How would Emma react when she found life wasn’t as easy as wishing for what she wanted?

Chapter Four

Ellie dunked the tray of dirty dishes into the soapy sink. She brushed a stray blonde strand of hair from her eyes with the back of her wrist, which peeked out above the fluorescent yellow kitchen gloves. Her feet ached, the back of her neck was damp from sweat, and it wasn’t even seven in the morning. She had to be in class in an hour.

"First day’s always the hardest," the head cook said sympathetically, just as she set down two more stacked trays of dirty glasses on the counter next to the sink. "But I’m glad to have your help. I’ve been doing it myself this whole time."

Ellie forced a smile. "I’m glad you’re not doing it alone anymore."

"Me, too," the cook said. She tapped the trays. "This is the last of it."

"Thanks for showing me around today."

"You’ll get the hang of it. See you at lunch." The cook stretched her shoulders over her head with a sigh as she left Ellie to finish cleaning up.

Ellie pulled out the dishes one by one and ran them under a jet spray of hot water.

She would have to do this every morning, every afternoon, and every night of every day to stay. Although it was selfish, a part of her did wish Lizzie could convince Dante’s parents to comp her tuition.

"Need some help?"

Ellie glanced over her shoulder to see Lizzie’s roommate, Anne. Ellie felt a familiar pinch of jealousy whenever she saw her.

Even though Lizzie was her best friend, Ellie knew Lizzie had more in common with Anne than with her. They were both driven. They even looked the same, with dark hair and darker eyes—although Lizzie complained she felt plain compared to Anne, who had bigger eyes, bigger lips . . . bigger . . . well . . . everything that counted, as Lizzie said.

"I’m okay," Ellie said. "Thanks for asking."

Anne ignored her and pulled a spare set of gloves from the cupboard.

"Thank you," Ellie said, gratefully. She really didn’t know how she was going to be ready for class without a little help.

Anne shrugged. "I used to help out in the kitchen whenever one of the staff was sick or on vacation. My mother expected me to." She stuck her hand into the yellow rubber fingers and wiggled. "At least these fit better now than when I was ten."

"I guess you don’t have to help out anymore," Ellie said. "Not since your parents sold the place to . . ." Ellie’s voice drifted off as she avoided Anne’s eyes.

"To Dante’s parents? Crazy, right?" Anne said. She set the clean dishes in the drying rack. "Lizzie told me last night when she got back from the party. It was pretty cool of Dante to tell you guys so she wouldn’t have to keep it a secret anymore."

"Are you mad about it?" Ellie asked.

Anne shook her head. "It’s not Dante’s fault his parents bought the school. It’s my mom’s fault for losing it in the first place."

"I meant at Lizzie." Ellie grabbed the first tray of glasses and dunked it into the sink. "For not telling you."

"Oh. I . . . no. I wish she felt like she could tell me, but I understand why she didn’t."

Ellie nodded slowly, handing her another dish.

"Are
you
mad at her?" Anne asked. "She mentioned what Emma said . . . about how she should have asked Dante’s parents if you could stay for free. She feels so guilty."

"She shouldn’t. It would be inappropriate if she asked. Totally weird."

"My parents would have let you stay," Anne said.

"That would have been pretty cool of them."

"Yeah . . . but being cool doesn’t pay the bills, unfortunately." Anne glanced away. "If it did, the school would still be ours."

* * *

"Thank you for joining us," Ellie’s English teacher said as she joined class a full minute after the bell. "Will your roommate also be gracing us with her presence?"

Ellie glanced in surprise at Emma’s empty seat. "Uh . . . yeah, she’s just, um . . . dealing with a small emergency." Ellie scooted into her chair next to Lizzie.

"If it’s so small, it’s not quite an emergency, is it?" The teacher started writing notes on the whiteboard until another teacher pulled her into the hall for a question.

Ellie pulled the books out of her backpack to set on her desk.

Her phone buzzed.

It was Lizzie.
R we cool?

Ellie smiled at Lizzie and nodded.

"I wanted to tell you," Lizzie said softly. "Every day. It was killing me. I think that’s why Dante finally said something—in front of Josh even. You know he hates that guy."

"Do his parents know you’re the one who sent in the protest letter for the name change? Or wait . . ." Ellie leaned in closer. "You did send it in, right?"

"Of course I did," Lizzie said. "No matter how I feel about Dante, that doesn’t change how much I hate what Bergie wants to do to Jasta. Making us co-ed and changing our name is just the first step."

"Have you thought, maybe," Ellie took a deep breath and twirled her pen between her fingers, "that it might not be such a big deal if Bergie changes the school’s name?"

Lizzie’s mouth dropped open.

"I’m just saying . . . if you keep pursuing it, then you might ruin your relationship with Dante’s parents. And Bergie isn’t all bad—I mean, she figured out how I can stay until Thanksgiving."

"Bergie’s not moustache-twirling evil, but she’s still an opportunist. Why would Dante’s parents care what the school is named? They don’t—changing it is all her idea. I bet she wants to rename it the Katherine Berg Institute or something lame like that."

"It seems everything would go smoother for us if you just accepted this tiny change. You know—maybe it’s what the universe wants."

Lizzie shook her head, pulling back into her chair. "The Jane Austen Academy was founded as the Jane Austen Academy for a reason. So girls, who weren’t receiving the same class of education as boys, would finally have a place to call their own. Just because boys are living here now doesn’t mean the spirit of the school has changed. Jane Austen always felt out of her element. Her stories are about characters bound by the situations they are in—until they’re finally set free. You . . . me . . . haven’t you always felt you didn’t fit in anyplace else? Until you came here? Aren’t you finally free?"

"Yes," Ellie whispered, her heart constricting.

"Then you know why I have to do this."

"Are you going to tell his parents you’re the one leading the protest on the name change when they come for Parents’ Weekend?"

"I don’t know," Lizzie said. "Dante doesn’t want me to. He worries it’ll be hard on me. That they’ll be hard on me."

"It would be okay if you didn’t," Ellie said. "The path of least resistance isn’t the same as quitting."

"It feels like quitting."

Ellie knew better than to argue. She sat back in her chair, worriedly glancing back at Emma’s seat. Their teacher returned, but Emma never came.

* * *

Lunch kitchen duty was worse than breakfast. It smelled like deli meat, and because the cook had been roasting meat in the oven, the temperature was ten degrees warmer. Ellie moved a little faster now that she knew where everything was, but unlike breakfast, which half the students skipped because they didn’t wake up in time, everyone was there in full force for lunch. She would barely get through cleaning one tray of dishes before three or four more were stacked beside her. Sweat formed at her brow and armpits.

By the time she was done, she felt grimy and gross. She left the kitchen and walked through the courtyard back to her room. Dante lay back on a picnic blanket under the central apple tree. He was texting into his phone. Lizzie’s head rested on his stomach as she curled up on her side with a paperback book, its spine bent back while she read.

They looked so happy, so relaxed. So cool, dry, and sweat-free. Like something out of a magazine ad.

She wanted what Lizzie had so badly. She wanted to be the one curled up next to Edward catnapping in the sun. She wanted to be the one with no money problems.