Page 9 of Race to Me

“You’re impossible.”

Foster leans back, relaxed. “What? It’s always better with two.”

My head dives into my hands. “We’re never going to get this done.”

Professor Dyer is busy buried in his book. Foster gives me a confused expression, asking, “Why do you need it done so fast? Youdoknow we have plenty of time, right?”

“Well, if I fail anything, I’m going to be shipped back to Crestview.”

He thinks about this for a moment. “Why did they send you here if they’re hell-bent on getting you back there?”

I look around the room. “They didn’t send me here. I gave them no choice.”

Foster’s eyes widen at my confession. His no doubt rule-breaking side is excited. “How did you give them no choice?”

“I withdrew when they told me no.”And I paid the price.

He nods his head in approval, his black hair dancing above his sharp brows. “Okay, why didn’t they just re-enroll you?”

I laugh, remembering. I explain to him in detail the events of that night,

“I waited until a very,veryimportant dinner party to make my announcement. One of their friends was like, ‘Skyler, are you excited for your sophomore year at Crestview?’and I said,‘Actually, my parents are sending me to UM this year.’ Their heads snapped to attention, and my dad was fuming. ‘Is that so?’ their friend asked, and they were super shocked. My father told them, ‘Yes. We wanted her to be more well versed with a larger school.’ Obviously, he lied.”

I look to the window, taking a break from the story. I’m also remembering what happened after they left. My ribs ache thinking about it. He knew he couldn’t change his ‘decision’, or people would talk. So, he set the ‘rules’, and that was that. It was ridiculous to me that both of my parents attended public schools but were so hell-bent on me going private, another form of control I assume. Another thing to brag about to their friends.

Foster bites the end of his black pen. “Rebel.”

“Hardly,” I remember the repercussions from it. “I got in trouble.”

He scoffs, “Oh no! Did they take your Range Rover away? Ban you from teatime at the golf course?”

“I don’t play golf.” I roll my eyes at him but laugh when he chucks my chin.

“For real, I don’t mind doing this with you. Why don’t I come over to your mansion this weekend?”

My eyes widen at the thought of Foster in my room, laying on my bed, talking about how sex works. My cheeks heat at the thought. “Can’t this weekend,” I don’t know when my parents are leaving again, but it shouldn’t be long. “Why don’t we go to your house?”

“Can’t. Off limits,” He looks away, stopping that idea.

“Why?” I ask, growing curious.

He shakes his head, his gaze growing dark. “Stop the inquiry, Freckles.”

Fine.“Well, I’ll let you know by the end of the week what day works for me.” I suggest, and he nods. I still, my lips stretching into a thin line. “Wait. How did you know I live in a mansion?” The thought alarms me.

Foster snickers, toying with the corner of our biology paper. “I didn’t.”

∞∞∞

I stand in front of room 208, excited to meet my accounting teacher. This is my most important class, since Accounting is my major.Yay. But Brett said she was sweet, so this should be fun.

I’m the first student that arrives in the room, and the teacher sits at her desk, thumbing through a large stack of paperwork. “Mrs. Parks?”

She nods her head, not looking up. “I’m Skyler,” I tell her.

“That’s good.” She still doesn’t look up, and her brows crease while she concentrates on her papers.

“So, I guess I’ll go—” I walk backward, throwing my thumbs awkwardly at the desks. “—Sit down.” I finish.

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