Page 35 of Drifting

Peter stops in front of the lady who sits behind the counter. “Hi, I’m here to get Shelby Winters’s class schedule and take the school tour.”

“Oh, yes, Dr. Tate. Let me get everything printed and give a call to Paige Mitchel, who will be doing the tour. Shelby, you can start by filling out this paperwork.”

She passes me a piece of paper and a pen. The top of the paper says Emergency Contact Information. I don’t know that information, fill out what I can, then ask Peter for a phone number and our address.

A well-dressed woman with silver hair neatly pulled up in a bun on top of her head strolls up to Peter. “Dr. Tate, I saw on the schedule you were coming in today. Congratulations on your recent marriage.” She gives Peter a fake smile.

“Thank you, Ms. Web. Let me introduce you to my step-daughter. Shelby, this is the principle of Ravenwood, Ms. Web.”

She turns the fake smile toward me. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Winters. I hope you’ll enjoy your time here at Ravenwood. We strive for academic excellence here.” She waves her hand around the office. “I glanced at your transcript, and I’m sure, with a little help, you’ll fit in perfectly. Are you planning to be a cheerleader like Hannah?”

My nose scrunches up. Me? A cheerleader? Not even if hell freezes over. “No, Ms. Web, I’m not a cheerleader, just a plain old student.”

Her eyes roam the length of my body. “No, I guess you’re not. That’s a shame.” She runs her hand down the side of her body, batted her eyelashes at Peter. “Since I took over as their coach, I’ve led them to five National championships.”

Eww, she’s flirting with Peter.

The main door opens and closes, drawing my attention. A girl about my age stands there. She keeps her head down, her long, dark brown hair partially masking her face, and clasps her hands in front of her, not saying a word.

“Ah, Ms. Mitchel,” Ms. Web says, “right on time. Please show Ms. Winters around the school.”

“Yes, Ms. Web.”

Ms. Web continues flirting with Peter, distracting me, and before I notice, the girl heads out the door. I scurry after her and find her standing in the main area, waiting for me.

“Sorry,” I say. “I got caught up watching Ms. Web flirt with Peter and didn’t realize you left. For some reason, I thought Ms. Web would be giving me the tour.”

She shrugs. “It’s all right. I’m used to people forgetting about me.”

Is she serious?

As we round the corner, I grab her arm to stop her.

She jumps a bit.

I immediately release her. “What’s your name again?”

“Paige Mitchel,” she whispers.

“Listen, Paige, I don’t need a big tour. I’ve changed schools so many times I’ve lost track, and most schools are the same. I just started walking again, but my leg is still weak.” I glance around at the fancy entrance. “I do have to ask, though. What’s up with the Starbucks and the small stores?”

“What can I say? Rich kids.” Her hand slaps across her mouth, her eyes widening. She picks nervously at the ends of her hair. “Sorry, I have a horrible habit of speaking before I think.”

“Let’s get one thing straight.” I hook a thumb back toward the office. “My mom’s husband, Peter, is the rich one, not me. The clothes I’m wearing I got at a second-hand store. Before coming here, I lived two hours away in a run-down apartment. Is everyone who goes to this school rich or something?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” She drops her voice. “They’re used to getting whatever they want, especially the football team and cheerleaders. I recommend staying away from them. Since you don’t want the big tour, how about I show you where your locker is and the cafeteria?”

“Sounds great.”

We start walking, and Paige glances at me. “Ms. Web didn’t like it when you said you weren’t a cheerleader, but I’m glad to hear that. The last thing this school needs is another airhead.”

I shake my head. “I almost laughed in her face when she asked me that.”

She shakes her head. “Ms. Web loves her cheerleaders. She lets them get away with anything. What’s it like living with Hannah?”

“I arrived here a little over a month ago. Hannah and Nick came home yesterday, which is the first time I met either of them. She’s already told me I’m trash and don’t belong here, but I don’t care what she thinks of me.”

“Oh, don’t let that bother you. She doesn’t tolerate anyone who’s not a cheerleader.”

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