Page 5 of The Lies We Steal

“Are you excited about this fresh start? It’s a huge deal they accepted you, even with my recommendation. They like to accept locals only.” My uncle Thomas, my mother’s brother, speaks to me for the first time since the plane ride.

He’s shy like that. My mom says it’s because he was born crooked, all that knowledge and no social skills. I’d always liked him though since he gave great Christmas gifts. Instead of talking he was always paying attention to the little things.

“It sounds more like a cult than a school, T.”

It probably was a cult. Actually, I know it’s a freaking cult. It’s the only university in the states with enough money and power to only accept people in the area, alumni students or children who came from extremely wealthy families.

Everyone with their head out from under a rock knew about Hollow Heights.

How does a thief with a record, split ends and barely two dimes to rub together get accepted? That’s a good damn question.

It had little to do with my 4.0, high test scores and extensive athletic ability. And everything to do with the fact Thomas was the biology professor and had been for the past three years.

My uncle was somewhere in his late thirties, the youngest of the two siblings. My mother and him had grown up poor all their life, just like me. Except when Thomas turned eighteen he tucked tail and ran far away from his family. Came back years later with a snazzy degree, and a Rolex.

No, I didn’t try to steal it.

“It’s not nearly as pretentious as you are imagining. It’s surprisingly down to earth.” He says, with a smile.

I scoff, “The brochure included an entire segment on how a prince, an actual Scottish prince graduated from there. It looks like every single ivy league school came together and had an orgy.” I yawn a bit, “You’re gonna look at me and tell me that place isn’t filled to the brim with entitled rich kids with Amex cards?”

I cross my arms across my chest, staring at him with one eyebrow raised.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful to be attending. The education I’ll receive from here will guarantee me a job after I graduate. I’m just not excited to be the ‘scholarship’ kid. It’s a lot like being the brown paper lunch bag kid, or the one who picks their boogers and eats them.

It’s not a good look.

“Don’t be so judgmental. There might be quite a few people here who don’t have a ton of money, Briar. This is going to be the greatest four years of your life, I promise.” He reaches over squeezing my hand reassuringly and I wasn’t aware how badly I’d actually needed that.

The longer we drove down this unending entrance way towards the imminent black gates the worse my nerves got. While it was a dream to be accepted, this place looked a whole lot like a nightmare.

I stared out of my window at the baby rain drops that clung to the glass. I inspected the rows and rows of pine trees. At any moment it seemed they would reach forward and grab the car.

The sun used the wet clouds as a guard so that every single moment here felt gray. Void of all colors. Vacant of warmth.

It seemed, to me, anyway, these kids were paying a shit load of money to live inside a Stephan King novel.

I cleared my throat, sitting up a little straighter, tugging my hoodie up on my head and placed my headphones in my ears trying to settle my stomach. The eerie silence that had settled around us was giving me serious haunted house vibes.

Even with the music playing, I could hear the gravel crunching beneath the tires as he continued to drive inside the campus. The first piece of the college you see, welcoming all new students and returning ones, was a large weathered brick arch with a mocking metal plaque bolted to the front. The rust and ivy attempted to shield the written words on it, but it was no use.

Hollow Heights University

Est. 1634

“We invited success.”

The name was engraved boldly, bearing its name to all who enter.

Where the leather-bound books whisper in dead languages and the empty marbled hallways creaked with defiance. The light never touches the ground, a constant blanket of fog dances through the towering pines.

The infamous university for wealthy boys and girls. One of the most secluded and elite colleges in history. It’s rumored to have homed some of the wealthiest young minds in the country.

Hollow Heights insured parents would not be disappointed after their child completed the program here, they would return after graduation diplomatic and refined. Ready to take on any job thrown their way.

The college was situated on the coast of Oregon, three hundred acres of Victorian architecture that felt older than dirt. I’d toured it online, but the computer didn’t do it justice.

The town it was built in was Ponderosa Springs, known for, you guessed it, the pine trees of the same name. I didn’t know a lot of its history except that it was filled with wealthy families, you had to drive through it in order to reach the campus, and it wasn’t very large.

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