Michelle Madow - Diamonds in the Rough

“I guess I have one thing in common with her.” Peyton smirked. “And what about Adrian? Pristine, as always?”

“Of course,” Savannah said. “You would think he doesn’t need sleep.”

“Maybe he’s a vampire.” Peyton laughed. “Like in those movies you like where they sparkle. They don’t sleep, right?”

“I know you secretly like Twilight.” Savannah’s stomach rumbled, and she wrapped her arms around it. “But I’m starving, and the food smells amazing. Come on.”

Room service had finished setting up breakfast, so the glass table had a white cloth spread on top of it, and the plates waiting at each seat were covered with silver domes like they were at a banquet. Adrian raised an eyebrow when he saw Peyton’s jeans, but said nothing.

“Is Brett coming?” Savannah asked Rebecca.

“He had trouble waking up this morning, so he’s still getting ready,” Rebecca said.

Savannah wasn’t surprised. Ever since Courtney and Brett’s public kiss at the grand opening, Brett avoided as many family meals as possible. Savannah had tried talking with Courtney about it, but her sister had shrugged it off, saying the kiss was a one-time thing, since Brett was off-limits as their stepbrother-to-be, and she needed to focus on school instead of guys. It was so typically Courtney—she was too much of a rule follower to rebel, and she was an expert at controlling her emotions. Savannah wished she could control her own half as well.

Still, she felt bad for Brett. He had a lot in common with Courtney, and they’d gotten along so well. But Courtney wouldn’t budge—she’d had schoolwork and studying for the SATs on her mind all summer. Brett would have to get over her.

Just like Savannah would get over Damien. And Nick.

At least, she hoped so.

“Are the three of you looking forward to your first day of school?” Adrian removed the cover from his plate, and they all followed his lead.

“Yeah.” Savannah poured syrup on her pancakes and took a bite. They were fluffy and delicious. “I’m excited to meet everyone.” Her knees also bounced with worry about Damien and Nick, but she couldn’t discuss her guy problems with Adrian.

“I’m nervous about the classes.” Courtney cut her omelet, releasing the steam from inside. “I hope I’m not behind.”

“Your tutor said you’re ready to begin Goodman,” Adrian said. “She was impressed by your work ethic.”

“Thanks.” Courtney took a bite of her food, although she chewed so slowly it was like she was force-feeding herself.

“What about you, Peyton?” Rebecca asked.

“The only thing I’m excited about is how this will be the last first day of school I’ll ever have,” she said. “I can’t wait to be done with classes forever.”

“You don’t know that,” Rebecca said. “You might change your mind about college.”

“No, I won’t.” Peyton huffed and poured herself a cup of coffee. “I can barely sit through high school classes, and I’ve heard they’re short compared to college classes. No, thanks.”

“You can make a decision about college when you find out which schools accept you,” Adrian said calmly. “No one is forcing you to go, but it can’t hurt to explore your options.”

“Whatever.” Peyton shrugged and focused on her food.

Once they finished eating, Adrian placed his napkin on the table and glanced at his watch. “Your ride will be waiting at the valet stand in fifteen minutes,” he said. “Peyton, you need to change your jeans before you leave.”

Peyton crossed her arms and glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You have to change your jeans before you leave,” he repeated. “I assume you put those on to disregard the school dress code. Your point has been made—you dislike following arbitrary rules—and while I understand your stance, it would be selfish to make your sisters late because you insist on fighting a battle you can’t win.”

Savannah couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping, and Peyton’s glare turned to her. She refocused on her food and took another bite of pancake, even though it was now cold and soggy, and she was full.

“It’s almost time to leave,” Adrian said, his eyes on Peyton. “If you would like, Rebecca or I can assist you in choosing a more suitable pair of pants.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Peyton shoved her chair back, the metal shrieking against the marble floor. “I can dress myself.”

“Glad to hear it,” Adrian said as she slammed her door. No one at the table said a word, and the hint of a smile crossed his face. “I used to be the same way when I was a teenager.”

Savannah couldn’t imagine Adrian as a teenager, especially a teenager who was similar to Peyton. But his approach worked, because Peyton returned a few minutes later wearing black jeans with no rips or holes in them, her lips pressed into a pissed-off line. The jeans were so low-rise that a slit of skin showed between them and her shirt, but her belly button wasn’t showing, so she wasn’t breaking the dress code.

“Much better.” Adrian nodded at Peyton’s choice. “I have somewhere I need to be now, but I’ve made a reservation for dinner tonight so that you can tell Rebecca and me about your first day at Goodman.”

They said their goodbyes, and Rebecca stayed behind, making sure their bags were packed with everything they needed. Instead of Savannah’s ancient backpack, she had a new purple Longchamp tote—the same bag that many of the volleyball girls at Fairfield High had had and that she could never afford. Inside of it was her MacBook Pro. Apparently at Goodman, bringing a laptop to school wasn’t begging someone to steal or vandalize it.

As Adrian promised, a limo was waiting for them at the valet stand. Savannah had been on many limo rides since arriving in Las Vegas, but it still didn’t feel normal. Courtney’s bodyguard, Teddy, drove them, and Savannah’s and Peyton’s bodyguards followed in a car behind. One of them would be on the Goodman campus at all times when they were at school. So awkward.

“It’s dumb that Adrian won’t let me drive us,” Peyton said once they were seated. “What good are the Range Rovers he bought us if we can’t take them to school?”

“He probably doesn’t want us getting lost,” Courtney said.

“And my car’s been good for learning how to drive,” Savannah pointed out. She couldn’t wait to get her license when she turned sixteen in December. Along with the summer tutoring sessions, she’d taken an online drivers’ ed class. Rebecca had been driving with her for the required fifty adult-­supervised hours.

After fifteen minutes, the limo turned at a brick sign with The Goodman School engraved on it in block letters, and Savannah moved closer to the window. A long, scenic road led to sprawling stucco buildings that resembled a college campus. Where were the security guards, the threatening chain gates and the windowless, prisonlike buildings? The buildings here looked bright and airy, with large paned windows and groomed gardens surrounding them.

“Here’s the Upper School.” Teddy stopped the limo at a pink domed building with a stone fountain in front. “I’ll be waiting here to pick you up at the end of the day.”

Savannah stepped out of the limo and looked up at the building. Did people at Goodman actually say they were in “upper” school instead of high school? It sounded so strange.

“Where to now?” she asked Courtney.

Her sister glanced at her phone, where she kept notes about these details. “We have to go to the Upper School front desk, where we should find a lady named Betty. She’ll give us our locker assignments.”

They walked to the entrance, the students nearby watching them and whispering. None of the girls were dressed up—they mostly wore designer jeans, fashionable tops and flats. Savannah’s hands shook, and she gripped the strap of her bag, focusing on not tripping in her three-inch Jimmy Choos. She should have worn her Tory Burch flats. Why had she worn such an over-the-top outfit, despite Courtney, Peyton and Evie’s advice?