The Duchess: High School Secret Society (Dynasty Book 1) Read online

  The Duchess

  Dynasty Book 1

  Willa Watkins

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2022 Willa Watkins

  All rights reserved.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resembles to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental or has been used in a fictional manner.

  Also By Willa Watkins

  Rosavale Series

  Between Dusk & Dawn

  Between Truth & Lies

  Between Rage & Regret

  Between Love & Lust

  Dynasty Series

  The Duchess

  Chapter 1

  For the hundredth time, I adjust the plaid black and white fabric that skitters along my thighs, stopping a couple of inches above my knees. The white dress shirt is supposed to fit snug but on my angular frame, it hangs loose. I fuss with the amber bow-tie around my neck until realizing that there is nothing I can do to make me belong into this uniform or into this school. If my friends saw me now, they wouldn’t recognize me, and if they did recognize me, they would laugh at how ridiculous I must look.

  Inhaling a silent breath, I train my eyes straight ahead as I step into the school grounds. On the brochures it says that Golden Bay Academy encourages divergent creativity, passion, and unique talents but how can that be when at a first glance everyone looks the same.

  Even so, the uniform isn’t enough to camouflage me. As I walk towards the grand building, I sense scrutinizing gazes on me.

  I try to keep my head up with firm steps and a posture similar to those who belong here. My hands fold around the icy railing and I take my first step up the stairs to Golden Bay Academy.

  The school building is like a castle. Bold towers of rock amid the ebullient green foliage as if conjured from a storybook. It is flawless. Every stone was even and square as if those who built were set on perfection and I’m far from being perfect.

  But I’ve learned that humans only survive if they can adapt to any given situation. So I lift my chin higher and recite my current mantra beneath my breath, “I have to adapt. I have to survive.”

  There is no other option. Either this or boarding school. I don’t know if Mom was serious when she made the threat, but I’m not willing to take any chances.

  Determined to make it work, I ignore the judgmental stares and rush up the remaining steps, but I still feel like a witch marching to the stake about to be burned.

  Last week when I visited the school for the first time, everything was different. There were no students rambling everywhere. There were no loud and excited voices filling the hallways. Everything was quiet and a little clinical, perhaps because of the white marble floor. Today, despite the number of people, it seems even colder. A coldness that runs deep within.

  Contrary to the outside of the building, inside, everything is modern and the excellence continues. The halls are arrayed with black, shiny lockers. On the white walls, there isn’t a handprint or scuff mark anywhere. The doors are glossy black, numbered with golden digits that match the globe-shaped handles. Figureheads of the former principals hang along the hallway walls, staring at me with infernal eyes and I almost shiver. It isn’t just the materials though, it’s the dimensions, the width being at least twice that of my old school.

  Suddenly the chatter dies, and the hallway becomes a steady stream of order. Before I can react or understand what causes the swift stillness, a pair of hands press against my back and I’m shoved aside, hitting a wall. I gaze over my shoulder to see who pushed me and come face to face with a group of six girls.

  They all wear the same uniform as me in addition to the tiaras with shiny stones on their heads. The tiaras seem to be the same, only the stones on each have a different color. Blue, red, green, purple, black, and yellow.

  They keep parading through the corridors and students rush out of the way to let them pass. Shaking my head, I hold onto the straps of my backpack and my lips curve up.

  “The mean girls of Golden Bay Academy,” I mutter to myself finding it ridiculous that this school is such a cliché.

  I veer to my right, into the school office, ignoring the girls strutting the halls. “Good morning,” I say to the woman at the counter. “I’m Nayah Russel and I’m supposed to meet with the principal.”

  “She’ll attend to you shortly.” The lady points to a padded bench against the wall behind me. “Have a seat.”

  Obediently I sit down, cross my leg, and place my hands on my knee. A perfect posture for who I’m trying to be.

  “This school is your chance to start over, Nayah,” Mom had said before I left the house this morning.

  I hope it’s true, but deep down I doubt it.

  I can’t complain about my mother and what I have though. Despite everything, she believes in me and my potential. But I can’t see any of it. I lost count of how many second chances I’ve received over my mere seventeen years of life, or how many lives I have touched in irreversible ways.

  Disappointing my mom was never in my plans but it’s all I do, and after what happened last year, I had to admit that my life couldn’t stay the same.

  “Ah! There you are,” a chirpy voice sings, making me jolt up and scattering my thoughts. “Welcome, Nayah. Come on in.” With a smile, the principal waves me over. “I have a few more things to clarify before I hand you your class schedule.”

  I don’t answer, I nod and follow the woman into an airy and bright room. She takes her place in the white leather chair and indicates for me to seat on the chair on the other side of the desk.

  “How has been your stay in Golden Bay?” she asks to make small talk and I wish she would go straight to the point.

  “It’s been fine.”

  “I know it’s nothing like Los Angeles. However with time, you’ll get used to it.”

  She is right about that. Golden Bay is a minuscule town in the middle of nowhere with a population of almost no one.

  She picks up a pen from her desk and holds it between her fingers. “So, are you looking forward to your first day at the Academy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wonderful. I’m sure the next two years will be exciting for you.” Despite the confident tone she uses, I doubt that her words will come to pass especially in a school like Golden Bay Academy.

  I’m different from the students who attend this institution. To start, I don’t have a tenth of the money that they have. This school is for the elite of this town and my mother is the school’s cafeteria lady. Mom was hired because she and the principal went to the same high school back in the day. Mom told her about me and because of their friendship, the principal granted me a scholarship.

  I try to put a smile on my face when what I want is to get out of here and go back to LA and to my previous school—the only place where I felt any kind of acceptance. But with my current record, I don’t have many options. Two expulsions are not exactly what prestigious schools look for in their potential students’ records.

  But Mom is committed to the whole idea of starting over and as much as I hate it, I have to admit that it might be for the bes
t. Everyone still remembers what I did last year. I still remember what I did.

  “Is there something you need from me?” I say to push this along.

  “I want you to know that rules are very important here at the Academy.”

  I laugh wryly. “I haven’t forgotten, you made that pretty clear the last time we met.”

  “I want you to have the best experience here and the only way you can do that is by following the rules.”

  Does this woman think I’ll start a riot on my first day? “Got it.”

  “Also, here at Golden Bay Academy, we believe in valuing individual talents,” she said and I raise an eyebrow. “You’ll notice that there are many differences between our school and the ones you’ve attended, starting with the way we deal with our high school students.”

  I fold my arms over my chest and sink deeper into the chair, waiting for her to continue.

  “During the first week you’ll have all your skills tested. You’ll attend classes and meet with teachers who’ll assess your ability within particular subjects. Then on Friday, you’ll receive the results.”

  “I don’t understand. What results?”

  If I’ll be bombarded with surprise quizzes, then I’m screwed. Last year, if I hadn’t been kicked out, I sure as hell would have flunked. All subjects. Maybe not gym, but nobody takes that seriously.

  “You’ll understand soon, I promise.” Her tone is light, almost as if the principal is stifling a laugh when she slips a folded paper in my direction. “Here is your schedule and your locker is on the third floor. Paige will explain in detail what I meant about the results.”

  As if everything were part of a big, well-rehearsed show, a knock on the door interrupts our conversation, and a tall, thin woman with gray hair and a rather stern appearance enters the room.

  “Did you send for me, Candice?” The woman says in a monotone.

  “Perfect timing, Paige,” the principal answers, getting up from the chair. “This…” She points to me. “Is Nayah Russel. It’s her first day with us.”

  Paige’s gaze runs over me. “You’re the ...” she begins but doesn’t finish the sentence.

  She knows who I am and most likely knows what I did. If she had continued, how would she have defined me? The problematic girl? The lunch lady’s daughter? The intruder?

  “Exactly,” the principal cuts in. “We’ll have time to talk about it later. Now she needs to get to class. I think you’re the ideal person to welcome her, don’t you agree?”

  Paige doesn’t smile and her face remains expressionless. She indicates to the door, I get up and thank the principal for her time although she didn’t say anything enlightening or helpful. She probably assumes I didn’t read the hundreds of emails I got from the school. Honestly, I didn’t. It’s too much information for one head, but I did skim through most of it.

  That GBA is a differentiated school, I already knew. Everybody knows. If not for its reputation then for the fancy cars that are parked out front. I bet I’m the only one here who rides the bus. I must also be the only one who doesn’t carry a designer purse, or who doesn’t have a stick up my ass.

  “I hope you adapt to Golden Bay,” Paige says.

  “Me too,” I confess, but I don’t know if she hears me. The noise erupting from the hallway at the sound of the bell doesn’t give much room for conversation.

  “This way.” She points to the right. “It’s the assembly hall.” She pushes the door open with her shoulder and keeps it open for me to walk through.

  At my old school there is no such a place. We didn’t have a room with a stage, let alone bleacher-style seats like these.

  Paige tells me to find a seat and I look around at the empty spots, wondering if I’m the only one who will attend the class or whatever is about to happen. However, soon several students join me. I choose to stay near the passageway which means I have to move whenever someone wants to go to the row I’m sitting at. Everyone eyes me without saying a word—at least not to my face. The whispers that follow their glances are not discreet. Once the commotion settles, I curl up in my seat as much as possible and no one occupies the one next to me.

  Two more teachers join Paige on stage. One of them is a frowning man and the third is the only one who gives the impression that he wants to be here.

  “Good morning, juniors,” the older man mutters and people respond with the same lack of enthusiasm. “I’m Mr. Greene and I’ll teach Mathematics to those who stay in my class.”

  “I’m Sam. The geography teacher,” the one with the smile said, holding the microphone in his hand.

  Unlike Mr. Greene, who appears to be about ninety-nine, Sam can’t be much older than thirty. If it weren’t for the kitschy suit he’s wearing, he might be attractive.

  “And I’m Paige, the English teacher.”

  The teachers continue with the welcoming speeches, and I block them out. Most of the students seem to be as uninterested while a few others are taking notes. What can they possibly be writing down?

  The door to the room opens and a boy enters. His backpack hangs loosely around his shoulder and when he tries to adjust it, it slips and hits the ground with a loud thud, interrupting Sam’s speech. All eyes swerve towards him.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles to the teachers and quickly scoops up his bag.

  “Tardiness, Mr. Becker,” Paige scolds.

  “I’m sorry, Paige. Family commitments,” he explains while searching for a seat.

  The closest vacant one is next to me. I swing my legs to the side, facilitating as he moves into the row. His heavy backpack hits me when he places it on the floor.

  What the hell is he carrying in it?

  “Sorry,” he mumbles again.

  “No problem,” I reply, turning to look at him.

  Big mistake.

  Blue eyes stare back at me. Not ordinary blue. Blue like the sky right before the sun disappears—dark rich indigo—with specks of wild colors here and there. The boy is so gorgeous it’s hard to look directly at his face, but I can’t look away either. He has broad shoulders and big hands. I imagine what they would feel like on me and a flush settles over my skin.

  “As we were saying,” Paige resumes, and blinking I force my eyes away from the boy next to me and focus on the stage.

  “This is the year you’ll start preparing for the future. This school, unlike most, prefers that its students receive in-depth knowledge of subjects that fit their profile. What does that mean? If you have the desire, for example, to work in law, we’ll not fill your heads with chemistry formulas. Of course, you’ll attend the class, but with a focus on learning what falls in the SATs. We prefer that our students acquire targeted knowledge.

  “That is why classes will be full-time, commencing at nine in the morning and ending at half past four. Each student will choose two optional subjects, in addition to those required by the school curriculum.”

  I take a deep breath to absorb what I hear. I expected GBA to be a tough school. I didn’t think I would have classes from nine to, basically, five. It’s a full-time job.

  Don’t these kids have lives outside of school?

  Right now, I want to strangle someone. Preferably the one who had the idea of enrolling me at this school. I rub my face with my hands, preparing myself psychologically for what I will have to face.

  “This is the most important week of the year,” Sam speaks. “Until Friday you’ll attend all classes, and we’ll decide which ones best fit your profile. All teachers will be available to talk to any of you whenever needed.” He smiles wider and it’s a little comforting. “You’ll be able to choose one of the five subject categories. Science, Literature, Economics, Biology, and Arts.

  “If you choose to follow the science field, we’ll fill your hours with Physics, Chemistry, and Mathematics. But remember that English, as well as a foreign language, is mandatory for everyone. The only difference is the number of hours for each. If you choose Literature then you’ll attend more in-dept
h classes on human subjects. It all depends on what you want to be when you grow up.”

  The students snigger while I deadpan. I have no idea what I want as a career. I never thought of that before.

  The teachers also explain, for another hour, how our year will be. They detail each of the categories, exemplifying the professions that best fit each program, and then take questions.

  Finally the meeting ends and all students start to get up, except me who is still processing what I heard. I’m sure if someone looks at me all they’ll see is a blank sheet of paper. I can’t believe the school expects me to have all the answers about my future in a week. How is this possible? I’m only seventeen, and school has never been my forte.

  “It looks like you’re going to be sick.”

  I cock my head to the side and see the boy with the blue eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t throw up on you.” Maybe I’ll run out cussing and never return. “My head’s spinning with so much information.”

  “You’ll get used to it,” he guarantees which makes me feel worse. “Julian Becker, very pleased to meet you.” He extends his hand for a formal greeting.

  I chuckle but shake his hand anyway. “Nayah Russel.”

  Another big mistake.

  Julian tightens his sturdy, but soft grip around my palm and I swear I feel a spark zing through my body, clothing me with heat. I yank my hand from his and he smirks like he felt it too but isn’t disturbed by it.

  “See you around, Nayah.”

  ∞∞∞

  The first class I had today was Physics with a teacher named Gwen—most teachers go by their first names—and to say that I was embarrassed is to understate what happened inside that room.

  I felt like a lab rat with everyone waiting for something dumb to come out of my mouth. Which happened. But there is always a light at the end of the tunnel, Gwen is sure that I’ll not be part of the classes that have Physics as a main subject.

  All my life I went to school because I was forced to, but I promised my mother that this year I would change, or at least try. She works two jobs to be able to afford our tiny—but decent—apartment. I don’t want to ruin everything on the first day.