Page 13 of Broken Princess

I choose my words carefully. “Why does she threaten you so much?”

She realizes we’re watching her and dons her mask of indifference, decorated with a splash of cold-hearted bitch. “She threatened all of us when she ratted out her step-dad.”

“So it’s about money. There’s nothing more to it than that?”

I know some families in Kingsley Hollow were affected. We were fine, but that’s because my dad’s financial advisors tell him the worst thing he can do is get in on the investments his friends recommend. They say it’s almost always a huge hedge fund that might fall under the SEC’s radar. Big risk, big reward, applies to everything except our money. For dad, financial risks need to be smart and sustainable. Hence buying shares in companies with a long lifespan, as opposed to the hottest stock trends.

“Bella, I thought your family didn’t get caught up in the fallout.” Tabitha says without looking up from her phone.

“Wedidn’t.” Bella answers cooly. “But I can still sympathize and want payback for my friends who did.”

That’s a lie. She doesn’t have an altruistic bone in her body. Hal’s phone ringing pulls my attention away from questioning her further.

Five

Jordanna

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t America’s Next Top Porn Star.” Someone shouts when I walk past the lounge in my dorm.

I was enjoying the reprieve from the stupid comments and was getting used to being invisible. Yesterday, the taunts started again, with a new spin. Apparently the only reason I’m back in school is because I fucked Dean Allen and threatened to blackmail him, if he didn’t renew my scholarship.

How the students decided I took the leap from being the last remaining virgin to a fatal attraction is one I’ll never understand. Not only that, but the few people who were willing to talk to me last week, have disappeared. Well, they’re still in class, but the words have dried up. I give you one guess why.

Yup.Him. Last semester I was getting all sorts of attention. This semester his plan is to place me in isolation. I’m fine with that, as long as it’s on my own terms. I step through the doors into the chilly air and slip into the cab, ignoring the taunts and sneers.

“Tell me about your week.” Pepper says, stirring a sugar cube into her coffee.

I’ve been coming to see her every week since that first visit. Sometimes she asks questions about my family, sometimes she tells me stories about her own. I’m not entirely sure why she’s taken such an interest in me, and whenever I ask, she says I intrigue her and that I remind her a lot of someone she used to know.

“Let’s see. I aced my math quiz and managed not to make a fool of myself during my five-minute monologue in speech class.”

“Academic achievements are great. But I want to know how things are going socially.”

“They’re not. The name calling has started again and that damn app is full of rumors and photoshopped pictures of me. If this thing catches on like they’re saying, no one will ever want to interview me for a job.”

“I wasn’t aware you were looking for work. Isn’t the stipend enough?”

“It’s very generous, yes, but I should be starting an internship. I should’ve had one over the break, but after what happened… I need the hours.”

She sips her coffee, studying me over the brim of the cup. “Don’t worry about that.”

“About getting a job? I have to, it’s sort of the goal.”

“The goal is to get the job. The worrying is a choice. You’ll have plenty of opportunities when you graduate. Trust me.”

“Just based on my grades? I doubt it. I need the recommendations from the staff, and the experience.”

“You think those brats you go to school with all have experience? They don’t. What they do have is the ability to make people think they know what they’re doing. They command authority and draw people in, and walk and talk with an air of importance like they belong in whatever space they occupy. That and their daddy’s names are what get them hired.”

“My dad’s name won’t mean shit to anyone but me and Summer, and if you’re talking about Penn Waldorf, I’m hoping to bury any association we ever had with him.”

A shadow passes across her face. “Everything okay, Mrs. Dane?”

“Yes. Fine. I was just remembering there’re some things I need pulled from storage.”

The conversation changes to my journal and what new things I’ve observed this week. When we’ve finished our breakfast, the chess board comes out. We play two games, which I lose. At the end of our visit, I promise to come by again next week.

My phone chimes non-stop with new alerts about the big back to campus bash. I haven’t received an official tag to attend, not that I’m expecting to, but I’m surprised Kassidy hasn’t mentioned it.

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