Bliar

While Mom is out, I do exactly what she asked me not to do, which is par for the course. Quietly stepping foot into the hallway, I explore the other rooms, most of which are just for guests. When I reach the last two rooms, I look around before opening the one I suspect is Hunter’s room.

I’ve never met Hunter, nor do I even know what he looks like. When mom and Andrew eloped in Vegas after dating for six months, I wasn’t surprised. I’d never seen her so giddy about a guy before, and it seemed he was smitten with her as well. Because of them being long distance, I’d only met Andrew a handful of times when he was visiting mom, and he’d mentioned Hunter in passing. I knew Hunter was my age, and that he was also a senior at Ravenwood Academy. But that was the extent of my knowledge.

We’d planned our inevitable move to Greythorn after they’d eloped, waiting until the end of summer to give her time to wrap up her existing wedding jobs in California. It made the most sense for us to move here since mom can plan weddings anywhere, and we were excited at the prospect of a fresh start. Andrew had offered to move him and Hunter to Marin City, but when we talked about it—and there were lots of discussions, because my mom wanted to be sure this was all okay with me—we’d both decided we’d needed a change of scenery.

I like Andrew. I don’t know him very well since they’ve been long distance most of their relationship, but he’s stable and boring, so that’s good, I guess. Mom adores him for reasons I can’t understand, but they seem like they’re truly in love—the real deal—despite their fifteen-year age gap and glaring lifestyle differences.

Hunter’s door creaks when I open it, and the bedroom inside surprises me. Black satin sheets, full bookcases made from black, ornate wood, a leather chair, a wooden desk, and a white shag rug on the floor. There isn’t any art on the walls—just tons of small postcards pinned to the wall above his large bed. Rio, Madrid, Copenhagen, Lima, Melbourne…

I raise my eyebrows. I wasn’t expecting a cool space like this, and I certainly wasn’t expecting to like it as much as I do. I had no reason to dislike Hunter, but I couldn’t help but form assumptions about him—like that he was a soulless, rich boy. I’d Googled Greythorn, MA, as well as Ravenwood Academy, so I had an inkling of the kinds of people who lived here. I’d already resigned myself to the fact that we’d have nothing in common. I mean, we obviously grew up so differently.

But… I would totally live in this room, and I’m officially intrigued. 

I step into his bedroom and walk to the ensuite bathroom. Cologne and an electric toothbrush sit on the counter, and a luxurious black robe hangs over the towel rack haphazardly. I open the medicine cabinet, and several orange prescription bottles stare back at me. I pull one off the shelf and look at the label. Lexapro. Just as I’m about to check out the others, the front door slams from downstairs. 

I rush out of Hunter’s room and pretend like I’m just walking down the hallway casually. I cross my arms and glance downstairs from the railing, which overlooks the foyer perfectly. I’m just about to call out to my mom when four guys quickly jog back to the front door. They’re all wearing black, hooded sweatshirts, and the one at the back has a bottle of alcohol in his arms. Though they seem distracted, I pull back a bit so that none of them see me. My pulse speeds up at the notion of being alone in an unfamiliar house with four strange men, and I wipe my clammy hands on my shirt.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” one of them says, his voice low. Another one laughs. Before I can digest their words, they’re gone, and the sound of the door slamming again reverberates through me.

Maybe Hunter Ravenwood is not the unremarkable prep I thought he’d be as the headmaster’s son.

I glance over to Andrew’s room at the end of the hall. I walk over and quickly pop my head in, taking in the large master suite. My mom’s boxes are sitting on the tufted bench at the end of the bed frame, and her suitcase is already half unpacked on the bed. When I walk into the bathroom, I see she’s already placed her toothbrush next to Andrew’s, and her favorite vase is on one of the shelves above the toilet. Smirking, I shake my head as I make my way back to my room.

I decide to go on a walk and stretch my legs after the long car ride, maybe check out the neighborhood… though something tells me it’s just copies of this McMansion for miles on end. To say we’re out of our element here is an understatement. I feel like I’m on a movie set. Everything is so clean, and the houses are all so stately. Even the cars are shiny and new. I didn’t necessarily grow up poor—Mom’s business brings in a decent amount of money—but Marin City is rustic, middle-class, and while it can be beautiful, it’s also quite basic. I grab my Air Pods and phone, skipping down the stairs and grabbing one of the spare keys the housekeeper left for us. I lock the door behind me and head out, pulling up directions to the town center.

The sun is still high for being late afternoon, so I walk on the shady side of the street since my skin is vampire pale. I pass enormous houses with aging trees, and every few minutes, someone jogs by with a high-end stroller. At the end of the street, I follow the directions and turn right.

Of course, I researched our new hometown, so I know a little about Greythorn. It’s a suburb of Boston so small that most people just pass through it on their way to nearby Salem. It sits between two large forests, so the town is surrounded by trees, making it feel way more nature-y than it is. It’s also ripe with cemeteries and historic homes, which fascinates and intrigues me. Going from an overpopulated, California public school to a New England prep academy is going to be interesting. I know Mom is excited. She has high hopes for me since she never got to go to college, and she loves the idea of visiting me in Paris.

I round the corner and enter the main square, which has a large, tree-laden park in the heart of Greythorn with a thicket of trees in the middle. Shops and storefronts all face the park, and in the very center of it all is a large gazebo and lake. I walk along the perimeter, passing people out shopping and enjoying the weather before the darkness descends. There’s a bite to the air now, and I suspect in an hour, it won’t be warm anymore. I turn left and cross the main street, entering the expansive park. It’s darker in here with the trees, and I hesitate at first. But then I remember Mom bragging about the practically non-existent crime rate in Greythorn, and I shake my head. I’m just being ridiculous…

I follow the dirt path deeper into the park, and even a few feet in, I can see the other side of town a couple thousand feet away. I’m safe here. But… 

I look around, my spider-senses perking up. Someone laughs—a deep, cruel laugh.

I pull my Air Pods out and stop walking, listening. I should be running. I can’t see anyone near me, but the eerie feeling of being closed in, being watched, makes me catch my breath. I’m safe, I tell myself. I’m safe. It’s something Sonya, my therapist and I, have been working on.

Evaluate my surroundings. A public park.

Listen to my gut. It’s dark, but I’m okay.

Apply common sense. Just walk to the other side. Don’t dawdle.

I squint deeper into the thick forest surrounding me, and just as I’m about to continue walking ahead, a voice sends chills spider walking down my spine.

“Hey little lamb, come out and play.”

The voice is male, reverberating through my core. I spin around, and my heart jumps out of my chest when I see four figures standing near the mausoleum in the middle of the park a couple hundred feet away. It’s dark enough that I can’t make out their faces—the sun behind them and the hoods shield that from me, and I clench my fists. Something tells me one of those figures is Hunter Ravenwood.

I ignore them and keep walking, my feet moving me quicker than before, and soon I’m on the other side. I look behind me, but no one is there, and I shake off the goosebumps at the sight of the four of them—lurking, watching me from the dark.

I finish my walk and get back to the McMansion just as my mom pulls into the driveway with cheeseburgers, fries, and shakes. I help her inside, chuckling as I spy decorative throw pillows and other miscellaneous items to make the home a bit more personalized. I’m sure Mom will bring it up to speed soon since the decor really could use a makeover.

We’re both starving, having not eaten since we stopped for lunch earlier today, so we plop down on the nearest couch and devour our food. I manage to spill ketchup all over my grey sweatshirt, and I’m in the middle of dabbing it with a napkin when the front door opens across the foyer. I look up just as dark eyes find mine.

Hunter.

Some sort of quick recognition passes over his face. His eyes travel down my body briefly before he cocks his head, like an animal studying their prey. He’s carrying the black sweatshirt from before, revealing a tight, white T-shirt that clings to his abdomen. He’s tall and muscular in a subtle way—honed, but not outrageous. Dark, messy, wavy hair, and a face with a shadow of stubble and dimples. And his lips? They’re full, tilted up on the sides, and cherry red.

I swallow. He doesn’t break eye contact with me, smirking as he closes the door with one of his boots. The dimples in his cheeks are so much more pronounced when he smiles. He takes a few steps into the house, the muscles in his abdomen contracting with every step.

Lord. That is one fine specimen.

My mom jumps up and walks over to him. “Hunter! So good to see you.” She gives him a quick hug.

“Hello, Aubrey,” he says, his voice low and smooth. His eyes flick to mine over her shoulder, something akin to amusement flickering in his dark irises. “This must be your daughter.” His words are dripping with something disingenuous, and my hackles rise instantly.

They pull apart, and my mom gestures to me. “Yes, this is Briar. Did your dad tell you that you’ll both be seniors at Ravenwood Academy?”

His pupils darken as he watches me with cruel amusement, and I stop chewing. What the hell is his deal?

“Yes, he did.” The tone of his voice is pompous, and his intonation is that of someone with a well-rounded education. A rich boy. How much does he know about me?

“Maybe you could show her around the school next week? Introduce her to your friends? Your dad says you’re a straight-A student. Briar was in all AP classes back in California.”

Please, Mom. Just stop talking.

“Is that so?” Hunter asks, smirking. “I’d be delighted to show her around, give her a taste of true Ravenwood Academy spirit.” I scowl at him as he moves to the stairs, but I don’t answer. I won’t give him the time of day. “Please, make yourselves at home.” He turns to leave, winking at me before jogging up the stairs two at a time.

“Such a nice boy,” my mom says as she sits back down, finishing her meal.

For some reason, I doubt that, because my gut is telling me otherwise.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***