Michelle Madow - Diamonds in the Rough

“I shouldn’t have bothered asking.” She played with her charm bracelets, shuffling her feet as she scrutinized the outfit in her full-length mirror. It was flashy. But she couldn’t take fashion advice from Courtney, who had on jeans, flip-flops, a sky-blue T-shirt and practically no makeup. The only jewelry she wore was a practical watch and that boring old key necklace Grandma had given her for her birthday last year—an heirloom from their great-great-grandmother. “Sure, it would have been too much for Fairfield High, but this is private school in Las Vegas. The first day is when everyone gets most dressed up, so I want to be ready.”

“I was just trying to help, but whatever makes you happy.” Courtney toyed with her necklace. “You’re lucky you aren’t nervous.”

“You think I’m not nervous?” Savannah had tossed and turned all night, and her hands had been shaking all morning. “I don’t know anyone in my grade. And I have no idea what’ll happen if I run into Damien or Nick—which I’m assuming I will, since the school is small.” She frowned, thinking about how stupidly optimistic she’d felt in the beginning of July at the Diamond Hotel grand opening, when Damien had apologized for kissing Madison, and Nick had given her attention all night. Because a week later, Damien had left on a month-long teen tour to Alaska and Hawaii, and Nick was always busy with work. “I’m worried that they’ll see me and pretend they don’t know me. Or that they’ve forgotten about me.”

The pathetic part was that it had been weeks since she’d heard from either of them—aside from an occasional text from Nick that he felt bad about not having time to hang out—and she checked up on them daily on Facebook and Twitter. Nick had been inactive on both, but Damien had posted pictures on Facebook from his trip, of him with gorgeous, confident girls—the types of girls who made Savannah fade into the background. Girls like Madison Lockhart.

Which was why it was extra important that her first-day-of-school outfit was perfect. She needed to stand out, not fade away.

“You’ll make friends,” Courtney said. “And if Damien and Nick ignore you, they’re not worth your time.”

“Maybe.” She knew Courtney was right, but that didn’t mean it would hurt less if they pretended they didn’t know her.

“I’m worried about the classes,” Courtney said. “What if the tutoring this summer wasn’t enough and we’re behind? I could barely sleep last night thinking about it.”

“You do look tired.” Savannah observed the dark circles under Courtney’s eyes. “Let me help.” She applied concealer on her sister’s face, pink blush to brighten her cheeks, and mascara so she looked like she’d made a little effort. “That’s better. Now no one will know.”

“Unless I fall asleep in class.” Courtney laughed, wringing her hands together.

“That’ll never happen,” Savannah said. “You’ll probably find class so fascinating that it’ll keep you wide awake.”

“We’ll see,” she said. “But let’s head into the dining room. Adrian and Rebecca will be here any minute.”

Savannah jingled her bracelets again at the mention of their father, Las Vegas hotel owner extraordinaire Adrian Diamond. He still didn’t know her or her sisters deeper than surface level, even though they’d been living here for weeks. But he and his fiancée, Rebecca Carmel, had insisted they order room service so that they could have breakfast together before the first day of school. Adrian had been making small attempts like this to chat with them all summer, but he constantly traveled for work, and when he was in town he had business meetings, golf games or was locked in his office. He made time for Rebecca, but whenever he talked to Savannah and her sisters, there was a wall between them.

Savannah followed Courtney into the dining room. “Is Peyton up?” she asked.

“She was waging war with the snooze alarm twenty minutes ago, but I forced her awake,” Courtney said. “She should be out of the shower soon.”

“Sure she will,” Savannah said. Peyton was notorious for her marathon shower sessions that stole all the hot water and made them late for school.

Her phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Evie, her best friend in Fairfield. Her heart warmed when she saw the text—texting before school had been something they did all the time before Savannah moved.

Good luck on your first day! You’re so lucky your new school starts in Sep. Stupid fairfield high starting so early. #jealous ;)

thanks! I’m so nervous tho. wish you were here!!! <3

Fairfield high isn’t as fun without you! <3 What’d you decide to wear?

Savannah snapped a picture of herself and sent it to Evie.

Cute! But isn’t it too much for school?? I would totally LOVE it for a party, but you don’t want everyone to think you’re trying too hard…

it’s fine for school in Vegas!!! ;)

Savannah’s hands shook, and she paused before pressing Send. Could Evie be right? It was the same thing Courtney had said, and while Courtney didn’t care about fashion, Evie did. Maybe she should switch out the skirt for jeggings, or match it with a more casual top, or wear shoes that wouldn’t hurt her feet by lunch.

She was almost back to her room to change when the door to the condo opened, and Adrian and Rebecca strolled inside.

Adrian wore a navy suit—Savannah had never seen him in anything but a suit—and even though it was 7:00 a.m., his blue eyes were bright and his skin was glowing. The same couldn’t be said of Rebecca, whose brown hair tumbled down her back in the most unruly way Savannah had ever seen it, and who was still in her pink silk pajamas. She poured herself a generous amount of coffee and cradled the cup as if it held the key to her survival.

“Is Peyton not ready for breakfast?” Adrian asked, pouring his own cup of coffee.

“I’ll get her,” Savannah said, glad to have something to do. Especially since this was the opposite of breakfasts back in Fairfield, which had usually been eaten on the go, because their mom had cared more about sleeping off her hangover than waking up so they could eat as a family.

“Peyton?” Savannah stepped into her sister’s room and found her bent over, unraveling a towel on her head. “Are you almost ready for breakfast?”

“In a minute,” Peyton mumbled, wrestling a hairbrush through her hair. Once finished, she flipped her hair up, giving a full view of her outfit.

“You’re not allowed to wear jeans with rips in them,” Savannah said. “It’s against the dress code.”

“Screw the dress code.” Peyton marched to her vanity and lined her eyes with thick black liner. “These are the jeans I feel like wearing today.”

“But you have so many jeans without rips in them,” Savannah pointed out, knowing the only reason Peyton “felt” like wearing those today was because they were against the dress code. “Why don’t you wear one of them instead?”

“Because I want to wear these.” Peyton jutted out her chin and continued with her makeup. “And you apparently want to dress like you’re going to a club instead of to school, but I’m not knocking your outfit and telling you to change, am I?”

“You just sort of did, but whatever.” Savannah ran her hands over her skirt. Her clothes might have been more fashion forward, but they didn’t break the dress code. Besides, what did Peyton know about what students wore at The Goodman School? No more than Courtney or Evie. “It’s not my problem if you get in trouble. Are you coming to breakfast?”

“It’s so dumb that we had to wake up thirty minutes earlier for this fancy breakfast,” Peyton grumbled.

“I think Adrian’s trying to be nice,” Savannah said. “But you should see Rebecca. She’s so not a morning person.”