Page 60 of The Blairville Legacies

“Bardot, what a coincidence to see you here!” a bawling male voice rang out.

I looked up, but immediately regretted it.

Was it impossible to enjoy a day without these motherfuckers?

Nash and his guys, seven of them, were sitting under a large oak tree – the largest on this campus to be exact – on stone benches that formed a half circle similar to a rondel. As always, they had picked a spot where they could keep track of everything.

So…high school days haunted me after all.

“Nash!” a girl with dark brown, almost black hair in matte black jeans and a khaki T-shirt, hissed, and I knew immediately it was Emely. She boxed her older twin brother in the side, who seemed distracted by her for a second.

I used that second to mingle with Bayla and the other students walking by.

“Who are they?” Bayla asked suspiciously.

“Idiots,” I snorted curtly, and we turned down a side path.

“Best stay away from them. Where they are, there’s only trouble.”

Bay didn’t say anything else, however, I could sense questions burning on her tongue once again.

“Where exactly was your room again?”, I asked, pulling Bayla into the shade of an oak tree, out of sight of Nash and the others.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t in the letter.”

“It’s always in the letter,” I laughed incredulously.

A seven was written there on my letter. This room had to be somewhere in the attached apartment complex, because rooms one to twenty were King Rooms. Normally these rooms were reserved for master students with special achievements, and I had wondered how I could have ended up there. But then again, why not?

“But there was nothing written there, okay?” Bay said a little more impatiently, digging out a piece of paper and heaving it close to my nose, so closely I couldn’t make anything out.

I took it from her hand and examined the lines.

Somewhere there had to be...

A literal shock ran through me when I got to the names of her roommates.

“There must be some mistake,” I stammered, puzzled, looking again to make sure I hadn’t misread.

But it was true.

“Oh really? I knew that before.”

I stared at the note, shaking my head.

Something wasn’t right here. Normally, Vanderwood didn’t make mistakes, and certainly not mistakes likethis one. But the letter before my eyes said otherwise:

Emely Copeland and Julie Blair were in the same room.

Chapter 11

Mady

Dissatisfied, I smoothed out the folds of the summer dress. Black and emerald green, an elegant floral pattern that matched the hairband and a playful hemline that reached just above my knees.

Through the mirror, I looked into my mother’s eyes, her beautiful smile...until the second I could hear her laughing in my memories. That was the moment when I pushed my memories aside and reached for the pill that was already ready on the dresser next to the mirror.

They were just pills that made me function, that allowed me to leave this house emotionally stable and somehow make it through the day.

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