“These must be expensive,” I hazard, sucking my lower lip under my teeth as I debate putting my dirty feet into the luxury heels. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay you back …” It occurs to me then that I could probably ask Tess for the money, and that she’d probably give it to me. Then again, she just about went full dragon on me this morning for daring to eat a scone that didn’t belong to me, so who knows?
“No need. I’m supposed to drop all of these off at the women’s shelter after school anyway. We donate shoes with imperfections.” She points to a dark scuff on the side of one heel and then shrugs. “They distribute the most practical shoes to women seeking assistance, and the rest get sold in their thrift store.”
I actually feel more—rather than less—guilty for taking the shoes, but since I’m not keen on walking around barefoot, I put them on as Danyella gathers the shoebox and tosses the garbage into the trunk of her car. She offers her hand to help me up and I take it, wobbling for a minute before I find my feet.
“So, where are we taking this?” I ask as I grab the original box from the car’s roof and tuck it under my arm again. I’ve only ever worn heels a handful of times. I’m going to have to really work to not break an ankle.
Danyella grins, gathers her book bag, and slams the back door of her old Geo so hard that it shudders like it’s in the throes of a death rattle. The door gets caught and she braces herself against the pavement so that she can try and jamb it closed with her left hip.
“To the theater,” she tells me with a sharp nod, giving her car a death glare as we start off in the direction that Parrish and Chasm went.
“You know, you’re the only person here with a car that doesn’t cost more than a house,” I start and Danyella laughs. “That’s how I knew we could be friends.”
She gives me that award winning smile of hers again, tugging on her blazer in a futile attempt to straighten out the wrinkles.
“My parents believe in rewarding hard work, not birthright.” She shrugs and shakes her head. “I’m working to save up for an Altima.” I raise a brow and she gives me a wink in response. “I know, right? Not very glamorous. My mom drives a Maserati, but she doesn’t want me to turn out like …” We pause near the upper exit of the parking garage, looking out at the sea of students laughing and lounging on the half-wall of the third story courtyard outside the towering walls of the academy.
Danyella doesn’t need to finish her sentence; we both know what she means.
So, Danyella is just as rich as the rest of the students here. I should’ve guessed as much.
“Welcome to hell,” she announces before starting off down the white stone walk toward the side doors. A quick glance over the short wall on my left shows a plummeting drop to the emerald green lawn below. I shiver and stand back up, only to realize that everyone’s gone quiet.
They’re all staring at me.
I stop walking, suddenly aware of all the eyes on me.
Crap, crap, and triple crap.
“Eyes to yourselves,” Danyella snaps, reaching down to grab my hand so she can drag me along behind her. “Nothing to see here.”
“You don’t get to put dibs on the new girl,” someone says. I glance over and find a honey-haired white girl with eyes the color of the earth. “Although, after looking at her, I think she may be just up your alley.”
It takes me a second to ascertain whether that was meant to be an insult or not. But then the girl smiles and holds out a hand for me to shake.
“Lumen,” she says as I take her hand and several of the other students shuffle closer. “You must be Mia.”
I swallow back the sharp stab of pain that name dredges up in me.
“Dakota, actually,” I say, waving my right hand around dismissively as I prop the box on my hip. I can’t help thinking about Parrish’s stupid TikTok where he called me a three. I hate that I’m meeting these people and instead of starting with a fresh slate, I’m wondering if they’ve seen it. Or worse, if they agree. Worst of all, I shouldn’t’ care and yet … I do. “Mia’s just my birth name,” I add, and much to my surprise, Lumen nods.
“Your brother is on a mission to destroy you. Just thought you should know.” She shrugs her shoulders as Danyella grabs my hand again and pulls me toward the door. “But don’t worry: I’ll do my best to keep him in line.”
Danyella finally succeeds in moving me toward the door as my cheeks heat and yet another crowd of students turns to gawk my way.
“Is Lumen nice?” I ask, because for some reason, I trust Danyella’s opinion on the matter. We’re birds of a feather, that much I can tell already.
“She’s alright,” she admits, but almost grudgingly. “She’s also been slobbering after Parrish for years. I wouldn’t call her a mean girl or anything, but I also wouldn’t confess my deepest secrets to her, you know?”
There’s something in Danyella’s voice that speaks to experience and pain. Seeing as I just met the girl ten minutes ago, it isn’t my place to ask, but I file away her statement for later.
Glancing down at the box, I realize suddenly that it holds a bunch of props. I recognize Elphaba’s glasses and knitted blue hat from Wicked, along with a wand that must belong to Glinda. A smile twitches at the edge of my lips, just before Danyella comes to an abrupt stop and I glance up to see an administrator gliding our way with purpose.
Uh-oh.
“The cavalry has arrived,” Danyella murmurs, taking the box from me. She manages to hook her book bag over one shoulder, propping the box under her right arm. “Find me on online later and we’ll figure out a spot to meet up on your first day. For now, I’ve got to jet. The bows aren’t really in the dress code.” She points at her hair and then disappears inside a set of double doors on our left.
I catch the briefest glimpse of the theater, all stained-glass windows and long, crimson curtains, and my mouth waters. Real architecture, character, and history. It’s basically the opposite of the Vanguard’s house.
“Can I help you?” the woman asks as she pauses in front of me, taking in my borrowed blazer with the sequins on the lapels. The next thing she notices are my shoes, the red heels that I borrowed from Danyella. “I see you’ve met the president of our drama club,” the woman adds dryly with a long-suffering sigh. “You must be Mia Patterson.”
I grit my teeth, breathe out through my nose, breathe in again to calm myself.
“I go by Dakota Banks,” I offer, plastering on a smile to soften the gentle rebuke.
“We weren’t expecting you until the Monday after next,” the woman adds, looking me over again, like she isn’t quite sure what to make of me. She has a slight accent, but I can’t discern what it is.
“I’m here for the tour,” I say, knowing full well that I’m scheduled to meet with the headmistress on the twenty-eighth. I can’t very well admit the reality of my situation, now can I? Yeah, sorry, I accidentally ended up in the back of my stepbrother’s car, shoeless and on the verge of tears because I have nowhere else to go, and my birth mother who I just met chastised me for eating pastries belonging to my shiny new stepdad just after insisting that I make myself at home and then doing absolutely nothing to make me feel that way.