The thought of going back to St Augustus is almost unbearable. By now everyone will know that I’m no longer poised to inherit billions and without it, I’m just a bitch without her pedestal.
There are other prep schools in the city and hundreds across the states, I could enroll somewhere else, where no one knows who I am, where my surname isn’t recognized and isn’t important. I could finish out my senior year and then go to college. But the reality is that I’m not sure I can get through college without my sister to do the work for me. Apart from a couple of electives, my sister has taken all of my core classes for me for years, she’s the smart one, not me.
Tallulah would help me if I asked her to, but isn’t that what started all this mess, her coming to my aid because I wasn’t smart enough to succeed on my own. No. I’ve already fucked over my twin enough, this is my problem and I need to grow a pair and figure out how to stand on my own two feet.
Tomorrow I need to go back to school, I’m Carrigan Archibald and if nothing else I know how to act like I’m the smartest person in the room.
It’s harder than you’d think to find a prep school uniform at short notice, but there’s no way I’m going to collect my clothes from my parents’ house. By now they’re probably on a beach somewhere avoiding the scandal I caused when I broke the will and my mom attacked me in a room full of high society, but I still don’t plan on going back home to find out.
Dressed in the familiar St Augustus uniform I feel a little more centered than I did yesterday. Out of habit I bought straighteners to do my hair in my custom poker straight style, but this morning something stopped me. Maybe it’s my backbone clicking back into place and reminding me who I am. I’m not sure but whatever it is, it pushed me to do something out of character. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I twist from side to side admiring the halo braid that curves around my head and the loose strands that fall in waves on either side of my face.
Buttoning up my blazer I smooth down the front and glance down at the white socks that cover my knees, reaching almost to my mid-thigh, leaving just an inch or two gap between them and the hem of my skirt that’s a little shorter than I’d normally wear it.
I know most people hate the uniform, but I’ve always loved it. The plaid skirts, the navy blazers, they make me feel like I’m in gossip girl or one of those high school romance films Tallulah loves so much.
For the first time ever I wish I knew how to drive, then I could take myself to school now that I no longer have a driver, but instead I’ve arranged for a car service to pick me up and deliver me to St Augustus. I’m nervous, but I refuse to show it, so I sling my satchel over my shoulder, stare at myself for a second longer in the mirror, then leave the sanctuary of my hotel room and head downstairs to wait for my car.
I’ve timed my car to get me to school exactly five minutes before the bell rings. This way I won’t be the last person to enter the building, but the majority of the other students will already be at their lockers and hopefully I won’t have to deal with the gauntlet of staring faces the moment I get out of the car.
I call on all my years of self-important bravado and etiquette classes to provide me with enough confidence to stride to my locker with my head held high. I won’t cower, even though a part of me wants to.
The moment I take my seat in homeroom, Emma Handsworth rushes to my side. “Oh my god Carrigan is it true?” she asks, her eyes wide and horrified. She’s the younger sister of one of the guys on my great-grandfather’s list, her family is old money, but they were never prestigious enough for my parents to ever let me consider marrying her brother.
“Is what true?” I ask, turning to face her, my expression masked by my all too familiar air of superiority.
“That you’re broke?” she shrieks.
I scoff and roll my eyes. “Don’t be absurd Emma.”
“Fine, not broke, but I mean is it true that the money’s gone?”
“The money isn’t gone, it still exists, but if what you’re asking is, if I’m still in line to inherit it, then the answer is no,” I tell her dispassionately.
“What happened?” she asks, taking a physical step back from my desk as if my lack of inheritance could be contagious.
“I’m not sure how that’s any of your business,” I snap.
“Wow, there’s no need to be a bitch,” she sneers, looking down her nose at me as she turns and moves back to her desk two rows behind mine.
My eyes fall closed and I pull in a slow reaffirming breath. When I was going to be worth billions I could have told that girl to lick the dirt from my shoes and I’m pretty sure she would have done it just to carry my favor, and now she’s calling me a bitch to my face.
If only she knew how awful I truly was, I’m sure she’d be calling me something much worse than that. Her words have confirmed one thing though, everyone knows.
The morning drags, each moment feeling like a thousand, as I ignore all the pointed glances my classmates give me. I can almost feel their thoughts; How the mighty have fallen.
Money really is power and without it, I’m just another rich girl in a school full of rich kids. I’m a no one, the bottom of the totem pole and it’s
