Page 1 of One Lovely Lie

Chapter 1

FreshmanYear

Daniel

“Magnus! Slow down!”

Magnus must be able to feel my trembling fingers by the pulse point on his wrist because he looks down and gives me a reassuring smile. He chuckles to himself and finally stops, throwing his arm around my shoulders as he ushers us through the crowded train car.

“Come on, Daniel. Aren’t you excited?” Magnus asks as he hands our luggage over to the attendant and guides us down the hallway.

“Of course I am,” I say, but after years of friendship, he can surely tell I’m lying.

Now that we’re fourteen, my forever best friend and I are heading off to boarding school. It’s not because we’re bad kids, or because we fucked up our lives somehow, but as the future CEOs of two thriving multi-billion-dollar companies, we’re expected to get the best education possible. That education happens to be located in Switzerland, over three thousand miles from our home in New York.

But Magnus, smooth and charming Magnus, doesn’t even seem to mind that we’re being shipped off. The prospect of meeting new people and living on our own after we’ve been homeschooled our entire lives doesn’t scare him.

Nothing scares him.

Magnus and I were brought up with a strict understanding of what our duties would be as the children of society’s most elite. We were taught all about the inferiority of the working class, along with the advantages and benefits we get from being filthy rich. If we’re going to inherit our parents’ companies, then we need to learn how to act accordingly.

“Mag, I can’t believe you really decided to wear…” I gesture wildly at his outfit. “…that. Did you see the way my mom reacted when she saw you? She freaked out.”

“Well,Danny,” he says, emphasizing his nickname for me. “You know I take any opportunity to piss off our parents.”

I roll my eyes and scoff as I take in his leather jacket and ripped jeans, the way his dark hair is a perfect mess, and those brown eyes that are framed with black eyeliner. It wasn’t until the summer before boarding school that Magnus started to rebel—listening to unsuitable music, dressing in the latest trends, and flaunting his bisexuality every chance he gets. His parents hate it—Magnus is convinced they hatehim—but they have a way of wearing blinders when something isn’t part of their ideal plan.

I, on the other hand, accept my parents’ expectations of me. Some of the brutal and, honestly, outdated traditions of theirs haven’t really stuck, but unlike Magnus, I never go against them. It’s not that I believe everything they say, but it’s hard to shake years of conditioning in one go. I listen to my best friend’s sermons on equality, and his rants about how evil our parents are, but I never rebel. I don’t disturb my way of life, always presenting myself as the put-together poster child I’m meant to be.

“Look, I think I see a compartment open. Let’s go.”

I nod and quickly follow behind him, sighing to myself when the pressure of his arm around my shoulders disappears.

Oh, did I mention I’m completely, dangerously, toxically head-over-heels in love with my best friend?

Despite our outward differences, we’re still joined at the hip. It’s what happens when you’re practically raised together. I’m good at reeling in Magnus’s reckless behavior and he, in turn, can bring out my wild and carefree side.

Like two sides of the same coin.

Like cradle to grave.

Like I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

We enter an occupied compartment—figuring we aren’t likely to find anything better for our first stop in Canada—and the three teens already seated turn their attention toward us immediately.

“Do you mind?” Magnus asks, using his trademark drawl which earns him a smile from the obscenely large teen that looks like he could be a prized fighter.

“Not at all,” he replies, gesturing to the two empty seats beside him. After Magnus sits, he extends his hand to the new guy who shakes it and introduces himself. “I’m Avery Smith. That’s Ozymandias Clark…” He points to the kid with a severe scowl on his lips. “…and that’s Carter Everett.”

My eyes widen. Growing up in our circle, I’ve heard a lot about the infamous Clark family, a family that has more money than God himself. He’s a big deal to our families. His name literally meansking of kingsand that’s saying something. Fucking Christ, he even looks like a king with his slicked-back black hair and his royal-blue eyes. He holds himself like one too, all holier-than-thou in a way I should probably be trying to emulate.

I’ve also heard about the decade-long feud between the Clarks and the Everetts. Two old-money families with too much hostility between them. It fucking shows. Carter is staring at Ozymandias like he’s a cockroach we’ve all been trapped in this compartment with. His plump lips are set in a tight line and his brown eyes are narrowed distastefully.

Avery Smith is another name I recognize, but not for the same reasons. The Smiths are new money, something my parents always pointed out as just as bad as having no money at all. They’ve been described as leeches that took to the food and beverage industry and managed to worm their way into the elite circle.

I don’t even mean to frown. I really don’t, but my face doesn’t comply. On instinct, I take a seat beside Magnus and dig my nails into his arm. Something snarky and pompous is on the tip of my tongue, my parents’ words overtaking my own, but one stern look from my best friend shuts me up.

“Nice to meet you,” Magnus says, shaking all of their hands with a smile. “I’m Magnus Black and this is Daniel Levingson.”

---