Page 1 of Speak

Prologue

Raven.

Rayne-Moore University

4 years ago…

“Raven! Wait up!”

I groan and roll my eyes at the sound of my stepbrother, Axel’s voice. The bright stadium lights behind us illuminate the asphalt path back to the Rayne-Moore campus and I hear him yell out my name again. I pause my steps and sigh. I was really hoping he hadn’t seen me. Then again, my fault for never missing any of his games since Junior High. “I’ll catch up with you later.” I tell my friends, Ashleigh, Taylor, and Sabrina.

“Or don’t.” Sabrina winks a pale green eye at me, simultaneously waggling her blonde eyebrows and then sticking out her tongue.

“Blegh!” I fake gag. “You’re so bad.”

“I’m just saying.” She singsongs. “Under those glasses and uniform? I bet your brother has that whole Superman thing going on under that Clark Kent disguise.”

I cringe. I definitelydon’twant to think about Axel that way whatsoever. “First of all,STEP-brother and also, you’re so gross.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.” Taylor shrugs a delicate shoulder.

I scrunch my nose at her. “Fucking my stepbrother? No thanks.”

“Why not? It’s not like you’re actually blood related. You’re both over eighteen now, away from mommy and daddy at a prestigious school… you could get so lonely.” Sabrina pouts. I know she’s just egging me on but still. Yuck.

“Seriously, stop it, Bri. You’re grossing me out. We’ve lived together since we wereten. I know ALL of his bad habits.”

“And he knows yours and he still chooses to follow you around like a little puppy. It’s kind of adorable, actually. The way his eyes get so big when you talk, like he’s hanging on your every word.” Ashleigh interjects herself into the conversation. I like her the least out of all my friends.

Her boyfriend, Thaddeus Whitmore II, also known as Thadd, groped me at a Sigma Delta Chi party last year while he was tipsy and blamedmefor him getting handsy. Like it was my fault he’s a cheating piece of shit. It was their fifth time to break up over his wannabe playboy ways but she kept going back to him, swearing they “were destined to be together, soul mates,” she’d said.

If having a soul mate meant continuously getting cheated on and humiliated consistently and made out to be a dumbass in front of the whole school, mind you, then count me the fuck out. I like to think of my soul mate being a good book or my passport or a really great type of flavored, lightly roasted coffee… fuck it, I’ll say it.Me. MaybeI’mmy soul mate. No one at this school even comes close to anything I can see being marriage material.

“No, what it is, isannoying.” I lie. I actually love my stepbrother. He’s nerdy, yeah, but he’s cool as hell. I’ll just never admit to his face. His rather handsome face that he’s grown into. I shake my head, not letting my friends words perverse me.

Mostly because Axel’s my best friend. I can’t lose him.

I hear his heavy footsteps as he catches up to me and my friends walk away with teasing bye’s and catch you laters. He brushes away his dirty blonde hair from his face, green eyes looking after my friends. “Hey, Raven, I almost thought you were going to leave me behind.”

I exhale. “You? I wouldnever.”

He sighs dramatically, in Axel fashion. “Look, I know I said I wouldn’t annoy you if you came to Rayne-Moore with me but I’m… it’s just been hard to adjust. I don’t know anyone – except you – and the guys on the football team aren’t exactly…nice. You know?”

Oh, I know. A huge reason why I’m still a virgin at nineteen. I saved my virginity in high school because the guys were such… ugh. There’s no words. Only to come to Rayne-Moore and find out the guys were even bigger UGH’s. From the freshmen to the seniors, they’re all just so… ick. Pompous assholes like Thadd with pretty smiles with perfect teeth that flashed pretty lies.

It's not like I saved my virginity because it’s a big deal, or that it’s super special. I just didn’t want to lose it to someone that wasn’t worth it in a drunken tryst and give just anyone at Hawthorne Prep the satisfaction of being able to claim having slept with me. I had fucking standards. I wanted to have a connection with someone I felt was worthy of me giving it to, even platonically. So far, absolutely nobody comes to mind… except, sometimes, the exact man walking beside me.

Axel wears his heart on his sleeve, which is something I love about him. Another huge reason why I can’t ever say no to him. The stadium lights behind him dim and then turn off completely. Only the lamp posts every fifteen feet light our way.

“It’s fine, Axel. C’mon, I have to stop by the music hall and get my cello. You can carry it for me back to the Zeta House.” I smile, meeting his emerald and sapphire eyes. He angles his arm and I put my hand in the crease of his elbow. He’s taller than me now, which makes me smile at the memory of meeting him when we were kids and I was taller than him… until I stopped growing when I was fourteen, at a whopping five-foot-five. And then Axel just kept growing, and growing, and now he’s almost an entire foot taller than me. We graduated together and then toured this campus together after touring other Ivy league colleges.

Our parents made us come here, actually. I wanted to go to Berklee or Juilliard. I had the grades, graduated Valedictorian, and had a partial ride scholarship. Not that I needed it.

My stepfather was THE John Weston Monroe. CEO of Monroe Tech Enterprises. And my mother was THE Sofia Paloma. Supermodel. She was also THE daughter of Spanish Dove Hotels and Resorts Tycoon Enrique Paloma. Mama had even made greatmoney of her own in the 90s as a supermodel with her brown hair, light-gold skin, and big green seductive eyes.

I somewhat look like her, but I have light brown eyes instead of green, pale instead of sun-kissed skin and I’m just more pear-shape than hourglass with wider hips and a fatter ass and thicker thighs. Something shedoesn’tfail to remind me of duringeverySunday family dinner. I remember at one point Sofia was even in a few commercials and had small roles in a lot of movies. She’d fly me out to see her on set and everyone would dote on me, making me feel like a princess.

Guess howthegreat John Weston Monroe mettheSofia Paloma?

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