Ever After (East Raven Academy Book 1) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Friday, August 18

  Saturday, August 19

  Sunday, August 20

  Monday, August 21

  Tuesday, August 23

  Wednesday, August 24

  Thursday, August 24

  Friday, August 25

  Saturday, August 26

  Sunday, August 27

  Monday, August 28

  Tuesday, August 29

  Wednesday, August 30

  Thursday, August 31

  Friday, September 1

  Saturday, September 2

  Sunday, September 3

  Monday, September 4

  Tuesday, September 5

  Wednesday, September 6

  Author's Note

  More Books by Scarlett

  Find Me Online

  Acknowledgments

  Ever After

  East Raven Academy, Book 1

  Scarlett Haven

  Copyright © 2016 Scarlett Haven

  http://scarletthaven.wordpress.com

  All rights reserved.

  Cover by Scarlett Haven

  Edited by Janet at Dragonfly Editing

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  This book is for Ash Eastall.

  YOU kept me motivated and believed in me every step of the way.

  THANK YOU FOR THAT!

  Now, write your book, because I believe in you!

  Friday, August 18

  East Raven Academy

  “Let’s go over it one more time.”

  Today, I am getting dropped off at boarding school by two secret service agents. One is pretending to be “Uncle Matty”, and the other, Jake, who is pretending to be my cousin. I have no idea if those are even their real names, but I doubt they’d tell me if I asked.

  I let out a sigh. “You’re my crack dealer...”

  “Be serious,” Uncle Matty says, cutting me off.

  “I’m sick of going over this. I know my cover story. It’s all I’ve been doing the past week,” I say, but I do comply. I know he won’t let this go. There is no fighting him. “I’m Phoenix Black.”

  Jake cuts me off. “Underwood.”

  Ah, crap.

  “Phoenix Underwood,” I correct. “I live with my Uncle Matty and older cousin, Jake. My real parents are dead, but I don’t remember them because they died when I was a baby.”

  The truth is my parents are very much alive. In fact, it’s my father’s fault that I’m in this situation right now. Well, not his fault completely. But he was the one who decided to run for congress, and got elected. Just another rich, white guy in office. Apparently that makes people not like him. And by people, I mean terrorists. Only they didn’t go after him. They came after me. Hence, the new identity.

  I continue my cover story. “I got kicked out of my old school for arson...”

  “Phoenix,” Uncle Matty scolds.

  They never let me have any fun.

  “Fine. I was kicked out for hacking the school’s computers.”

  The getting kicked out part is a lie. Hacking the school’s computers is not a lie. At my old school, I kind of made it so the entire student body could go on social media websites on school computers, without being detected by the IT department. The truth is, I never got caught, and last time I checked, the school still hadn’t caught on.

  “But let the record state, arson sounds so much cooler,” I say.

  “Yeah. If you like juvie,” Jake says.

  “Juvie. Prep school.” I tap my chin. “I’m failing to see the difference between the two.”

  I cringe as we pull up at the security booth. There is a huge wall that goes around all two hundred-plus acres of the school, ensuring the safety of each student who attends. At least, that is what the pamphlet says. To me, this wall is more like a prison, keeping me in rather than keeping others out.

  Oh, sure. You’re allowed off campus on weekends, with parent’s approval, but it’s not like actual freedom. You can’t just come and go as you please. There are rules. Curfews. Both are things that I’ve never had in my life. And I highly doubt Uncle Matty is going to let me go anywhere, considering there is a group of terrorists after me.

  “Name of the student, please,” the guard says.

  I lean over the center console. “Phoenix Underwood.”

  “Is this your dad?” the guard asks. “I’m going to need to see ID for everybody in the car.”

  Uncle Matty smiles as he reaches for his ID. He likes that everybody has to prove who they are before being let in the gate. Of course, as if that’s not enough, Uncle Matty and Jake are going to be living on campus.

  Technically, nobody will know, except a select few of the staff.

  But I’ll know.

  “This isn’t my dad,” I tell the guard. “He’s my crack dealer.”

  “I’m her uncle,” he says, trying to force a smile.

  “Seriously, I’ve never met him before. You should call the cops,” I say.

  I hear Jake crack up in the backseat.

  “I’m her uncle,” Uncle Matty says again, handing over all three of our ID’s.

  The guard looks carefully, then hands the plastic ID’s back.

  “Welcome to East Raven Academy, Miss Underwood. Just go straight through the gates, and in about a quarter of a mile you will see a sign telling you which way to the dorms. There, you can check in with a prefect.”

  “Thanks,” Uncle Matty tells him.

  A prefect?

  Uh...

  “That was not funny,” Uncle Matty says, as we leave the security gate.

  “It was hilarious,” I say. “Even Jake laughed.”

  I turn to look at him and see that he’s still smiling. When he sees me looking, he clears his throat and relaxes his face muscles. “It was very wrong of you.”

  His fake sternness just makes me laugh harder.

  A quarter of a mile up the road, I see a huge sign with the East Raven Academy logo on it.

  East Raven Academy.

  EST. 1902.

  The school is old, but nice. Really nice. The older buildings are all brick and have been kept up over the years. As much as the tuition is, I’m not surprised by this. There are only five brick buildings, which I guess, was the original school, but there are a lot more buildings. I can see it would be easy to get lost on campus.

  The small road comes to a cross, and there is a sign telling us that the dorms are to the left. To the right are just office facilities, and the sign says that the athletic center, baseball, soccer, football, field hockey, and all other sport fields are ahead. I’ve already decided that I want to try out for soccer. You have to do at least one extracurricular activity, and soccer sounded the most fun.

  We don’t drive far down the road before I see two dormitories, right across the street from each other. They remind me of sorority and fraternity houses I’ve seen on TV, except, they’re massive. Both buildings are white, and remind me of an old colonial style house. There are big, white pillars in the front, and a lot of windows. I already know there are three stories, four if you include the basement. On the main floor there is a student lounge, and all senior dorms are on the main. The second floor is for junior girls’ dorms. The third floor is where all the freshman and sophomores room. In the basement, there are just washers and dryers. I’ve never done laundry in my life. My maid taught me how to do it before I left, so I feel confident. It’s j
ust going to suck having to do it.

  Uncle Matty pulls into the parking lot and parks in the first spot he sees. I get out of the dark SUV, thankful to not be in the car anymore. Uncle Matty and Jake both get out; and Jake opens the back hatch and starts pulling out my luggage. I’m suddenly thankful that Uncle Matty and Jake are here to carry my luggage for me.

  “Hello, welcome to East Raven Academy,” a perky, male voice says, from behind me.

  Uh.

  Did I mention that overly happy people get on my nerves?

  “Hi,” I say, turning to look at the boy.

  He’s dressed nice. Really nice. He’s got on a pair of black dress pants, a white, long sleeved, button up shirt, a gray sweater-vest, and a dark red tie. He has a pin on his shirt that says, ‘Head Prefect.’ I look down and notice his bright red Converse shoes.

  Huh, maybe he’s not so bad.

  “I’m Austin Vanderbilt—junior and head prefect,” he says, beaming at me. His teeth are almost blindly white. I should tell him that it’s bad for your teeth if you bleach them too much.

  “I’m Phoenix B... Uh... Underwood. Junior. New.”

  “Phoenix is a cool name,” Austin tells me. “You must have rock star parents or something? Rock stars always name their kids cool stuff.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “So close. My dad is a self-made millionaire,” I tell him. “He started his business in his parents’ garage.” And now is a member of congress and my mother lives off her fabulously wealthy CEO husband, even though she has her own money from her parents.

  But I can’t tell him all that.

  “You’re in dorm 27-A.” He holds up a key for me. “If you go in the front door, it’s towards the left.”

  “Am I... sharing a room with anybody?” I ask.

  “Everybody shares. Though, the juniors have a huge dorm and their own, private bathrooms. Really, it’s not so bad,” he says. “Plus, everybody gets a private dorm for senior year.”

  Something to look forward to next year.

  “Right,” I say, frowning. “Do you know my roommate?”

  He looks back at his clipboard. “Teagan Hudson. You’re lucky. She’s a good one. She’s on the soccer team, she was student body president her sophomore year, and she’s president of the drama club. She’s super outgoing and popular. Everybody loves her.”

  Outgoing and popular is not good in my book. Popular people do not like me. Except here, I don’t have my stepbrother, Charlie, to keep me from getting bullied. This isn’t good.

  “Thanks,” I tell him.

  “No problem, Phoenix,” he says, then looks at Uncle Matty and Jake. “Do you need help with your bags?”

  “Naw, I’m good. See you later.”

  “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

  He walks away, and I am left with the two secret service agents.

  How am I going to survive here? There is, literally, no privacy except in the bathroom.

  East Raven Academy is going to suck worse than I originally thought.

  I let the two goons grab my luggage and I head inside towards my dorm. It’s on the first floor, for which I am grateful. Though, I have a feeling that it was set up this way in case I need to make a quick escape through my window.

  I walk through a small foyer and sitting area. There are a few girls there, but it doesn’t seem like the kind of place where people really hang out. I wonder where they hang out at here. I suppose that since I’m stuck here, I should at least try to make friends.

  My room is on the backside of the building. It faces the trees. It’s not nearly as nice as the view I have of the beach at home, but I suppose looking at the trees is better than looking at the parking lot.

  I sigh, turning away from the window.

  “Don’t like the view?” Jake asks.

  “Missing Malibu,” I say.

  Missing my life.

  My family.

  My car.

  Everything.

  Jake is pretending to be my older cousin who just graduated from college. Jake looks about twenty-two, but he’s actually thirty-two. He has a wife and a four year old little girl. The girl is super adorable and hyper. I met her, and all she wanted to do was play dress up, tea party and dolls with me.

  Uncle Matty is older. Probably about forty five, though I haven’t asked. All I know is that he has a daughter who is my age, and a son who is a little younger. His wife passed away about fifteen years ago, and he has stayed single since then. His mom lives with him and watches his kids while he’s away for work.

  I feel guilty that they have to give up their lives to babysit me. It’s not fair to them.

  “How long do you think it’ll be before I can go home?” I ask.

  “It could be a while,” Uncle Matty says. “Get comfortable.”

  I highly doubt I will ever be comfortable at boarding school, but maybe he’s right. I don’t exactly have a choice.

  This is my life now.

  I might as well make the most of it.

  2pm.

  Orientation.

  How a person decorates their personal space says a lot about them.

  For instance, if somebody looked at my side of the dorm room, they might think I’m a little bit OCD. Everything is black and white. I have a black and white chevron patterned comforter. I have a white chair sitting at my black desk. I have a huge, furry, black rug that covers a lot of the floor. My black bookshelf has all my books arranged in alphabetical order. The clothes and shoes in my closet are arranged by color and style.

  My roommate is a different story.

  Her side of the room is not messy by any standard, though it is the first day. I hope she’s clean. But her side is green and black, which happens to be the school colors. She has a cork board that has a ton of pictures on it, and at the top, there is a huge East Raven Academy sticker. I don’t want to be nosey, but I do look at a few of the pictures. She’s in a soccer uniform in a lot of pictures, and in one, she even has a green raven painted on her face. I can already tell this girl has got some major team spirit.

  Go team.

  But seriously, I have never been to a sporting event at school. Ever. I played soccer back home, but it was a team separate from the school. I am pretty sure that this girl is going to hate me, based on that fact alone.

  Who knows... maybe I will go to a sports game while I’m here. There really isn’t anything else to do, considering I am stuck on campus.

  The door opens, startling me for a second. I glance over and see a girl with dirty blonde hair walk in. Her hair is all piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she has a pair of designer shades pushed up. She smiles big when she sees me, revealing bright white teeth.

  Good to know dental hygiene is important at this school.

  “Hey,” she says, walking over to me. “I’m Teagan Hudson.”

  “I’m Phoenix.” Crap. What’s my last name? Ah, right. “Underwood.”

  “You’re so cute,” she says, then pauses. “Sorry if that sounded creepy. I’m not a creep, I promise.”

  Me?

  Cute?

  On what planet?

  “Thanks,” I say, feeling a little awkward.

  She smiles brightly again.

  I really hope she doesn’t smile all the time.

  Okay, that makes me sound really cynical. But I’m not. Mostly. I just find people who are overly happy all the time to be annoying. I know from experience that happiness is an illusion. It doesn’t exist. At least, not for long periods of time. So, happy people just seem... fake.

  “I can tell we’re going to be good friends,” Teagan says.

  I hope so. Really, I do.

  I force a smile, trying to be friendly. She and I are probably going to be spending a lot of time together in this tiny room, and I’d rather not spend the entire year with somebody who can’t stand me.

  “We should probably go to orientation,” she says.

  “Isn’t orientation just for fr
eshman?” I ask.

  “Yeah, but they changed it a couple of years back. I guess the staff felt like we needed reminders at the beginning of each year,” Teagan explains. “You’ll understand why, once we go to orientation. Not everybody likes to follow the rules here.”

  “Right...” I say, my voice trailing off.

  I wonder what happened to make them do that.

  What kind of prep school did my parents send me to?

  I follow Teagan out the door of our dorm and down the hall. I can’t help but notice just how different we are. She’s blonde. I’m brunette. She has brown eyes. I have blue. She’s tall, like, supermodel kind of tall. And I’m 5’7”—average. She’s wearing a flower-printed maxi dress that falls around her ankles. It’s super bright and makes her stand out. I’m wearing a black t-shirt dress that goes to my knees, and a denim jacket. I blend in.

  “So, where are you from?” Tegan asks, as we walk out the front.

  The student center is really close, so we just take off walking.

  “Calif... Um...” Crap. I can’t cover that up. I’m supposed to be from New York. “Originally, California. My uncle moved us to Manhattan a few months ago. It still doesn’t feel like home.”

  “You look like a Cali girl,” she says. “I’m going to say you were from LA...”

  “Malibu,” I answer.

  “I knew it,” she says, grinning.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Dallas,” she answers.

  “You like going to school on the East Cost?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” she answers. “I love shopping, and New York has good shopping. I spring out of here as often as I can and shop. New York City is really close.”

  I don’t argue, because NYC does have good shopping. But it’s not worth actually living there. I hate living in the city. I just feel so... trapped. In Malibu, we live on the beach. Sure, we have neighbors, but there is a lot of space between us and the people next door. Plus, the ocean is, literally, out my back door. What’s not to love?

  “Are a lot of students from New York?” I ask.