Page 34 of Drifting

Remembering how Cam protected me, making sure I didn’t hurt myself, makes my stomach tighten. Man, that guy is sexy as hell. What’s up with thosebutterflies I got from him and the rest of the guys?

Well, except for Dom.

Shaking my head, I dress for the stupid school tour. This isn’t my first time at a new school.

I make it to the kitchen in twenty minutes,grabbing a bottle of water and aspirin for the trip.

Peter strolls down the hall from the master bedroom. “Ready?”

“Yes. Should I bring anything?”

“No, they should have your transcript already. You should be good.”

He kisses my mother. “I’ll see you later.”

Patty kisses him, then turns to me. “Oh, Shelby, I won’t be able to take you to lunch today, something came up. Would it be possible to move it to this weekend? Also, Peter and I will be out for dinner tonight.”

I shrug, not caring if I miss lunch or dinner with Patty. “Yeah, whatever.”

The car ride is silent for a bit, then Peter starts telling me how Ravenwood High is one of the best in the state. “It’s an exclusive school. You can’t get in unless you know someone. Our football team won the state championship for the last five years, and a lot of the college scouts come here. Hannah’s on the cheer team, and they’ve won some awards also.”

I want to ask him how much money he spent to get me in so quickly. My grades are average, and I never did any sports or cheer.

Instead, I say, “Nick told me he’s on the football team. Do you go to a lot of his games?”

Peter’s face falls. “No, sadly. I’m too busy to go.”

I bite my lip. Too busy? I find that hard to believe. If he can take off for weeks during the summer, then he can leave early for a day to see his son play. I call bullshit but remind myself it’s not my problem.

Peter turns off the main road and drives down a long driveway. Huge oak trees line the way.

At the end, it opens into a large parking lot, and he finds a spot in visitor parking.

He smiles. “Welcome to Ravenwood.”

I peer out the front window. The school’s not exactly what I expect from an exclusive school for the uber-rich. The schools I attended in the city were more modern.

Getting out of the car, we walk toward the school, Peter keeping his pace slow so I can keep up in my walking cast.

Near the entrance, I spot a plaque that announces the school was built in 1920. I study the red brick façade with white panes around the windows. It doesn’t seem like they’ve changed it much since then.

Peter opens the front door for me, and I take a half dozen steps before I stop dead, my jaw hitting the floor. A fountain sits in the middle of the room. The whole back wall is floor to ceiling windows, showing off the beautiful gardens. There are sleek, black couches to sit and talk or stare at the gardens.

I turn my head to the right and see a Starbucks. They have a Starbucks in their school? Other smaller shops surround it. What do they expect us to do? Go shopping between classes?

“Pretty cool, huh?” Peter proudly says.

A bark of laughter escapes me. “Never seen anything like it.”

I’m so far out of my element here. For all I know, I could be in outer space. At the other schools I’ve attended, I didn’t stick out like a damn sore thumb. I had no problem walking into any school with confidence and a kick-ass attitude, and no one bothered me.

With a sinking sensation, I realize that won’t work here.

I blow out a breath. Why am I freaking out? I met a group of kids last night, and they weren’t all that different. Just nicer clothes. I got this. I’ve survived worse than these rich kids.

“The main office is right over here.” Peter points to the left, where frosted glass covers half the wall.

I follow behind Peter, limping into the main office.

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