the college plans of the High Court Prep rich kids. I can’t even get into the local community college unless I take the GED because they are refusing to accept my mother’s homemade high school diploma. So I have zero feelings about Mona’s decision to stay here.
But, if you think about it, why would she go anywhere else? Her family legacy at High Court goes all the way back to when this campus was nothing but a one-room schoolhouse on the edge of Monrovian Lake.
Take the path of least resistance, right? Why not? That’s what I’m trying to do too. No room to judge, Cadee.
Something crashes on the other side of the door and everyone goes still again, watching. Waiting to see who emerges from the office.
The door opens and Mona appears, scowling at everyone. “What the hell are you all looking at?” Funnily enough, and without realizing it, echoing Cooper Valcourt’s words to me just a few minutes ago.
She storms past us and then disappears in the crowd.
“You’re up!” Laurie says.
“What?” I turn to her. “Now? After that?”
“You’ll be fine. He’s always liked you, Cadee.”
“Liked me? He doesn’t even know me.”
Laurie points at the door—still open. “In, young lady. We have thirty-seven more kids to discipline this morning. That party last night was one for the books.” She winks at me. “That’s not why you’re here, honey. Don’t worry.”
Of course, that’s not why I’m here. I’ve never gone to one of the infamous graduation parties. “Do you know why I’m here?”
She’s just about to open her mouth and answer me when Valcourt bellows, “Cadee Hunter! I do not have all day!”
“Go,” Laurie says. “You’ll be fine.”
I don’t know about that.
After my mother’s death two weeks ago, I doubt I’ll ever be fine again.
CHAPTER THREE - COOPER
I have feelings for Cadee Hunter right now.
Hateful ones.
Jesus Christ. I haven’t been face to face with that girl since I was a senior at Prep three years ago and she was the last person I wanted to see coming out of my father’s office this morning.
Forget it. Put her out of your mind. Because, Cooper, you have bigger things to deal with.
Like the fucking truck parked on the front lawn of my small three-room red-brick cottage and the half a dozen huge men who are currently removing my furniture.
I start running through the woods, yelling. “Hey! What the hell?” I stop right in front of the biggest one, a huge dude with cannons for arms who is currently holding up his end of my fucking couch. “Put it back! Right now!”
“Cooper?”
I whirl around and find Sheriff Woods walking up to me. He’s a short, middle-aged man with a bushy handlebar mustache you mostly find on throw-back cowboys. And he’s mostly a nice guy, but he’s also one of the High Court cronies—i.e. he works for my father. “Make them stop.”
“Your father called me this morning—”
“I don’t care. This is my stuff. Not his.”
“Do you have receipts?”
“Receipts? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Look, son.” Woods places a hand on my chest and I’m immediately reminded of how Mona pushed me in front of the admin building.
I look down at his hand. Take a breath. And then slowly track my eyes back up to his.
He removes his hand from my chest. Wise choice, asshole. Because I’m not in the mood.
“You’ve been kicked out. I have the eviction notice right here.”
I snatch the piece of paper from his hand and scan it, then crumple it up and toss it aside. “Eviction notice? Tell me, Sheriff, how does one go about getting an emergency eviction notice for student housing without the occupant even being served?”
I’m gonna lose my shit. I can feel the anger inside me ready to explode.
Woods, to his credit, looks ashamed. Because we both know this so-called eviction notice might have the Judge’s signature on it, but it was obtained in secret, during the early morning hours, probably in the Judge’s fucking kitchen, without due process, and in exchange for either a healthy sum of money or the promise of a future favor.
“I thought you were better than this.” I figure it doesn’t hurt to shame the sheriff. He did take an oath to protect and serve.
“Son,” Woods says calmly. “It’s done. He wants you out.”
“He wants me to move home. You know that’s what this is about.”
Sheriff Woods looks out across Monrovian Lake. Right at the Valcourt family mansion on the opposite shore. It’s an imposing home, even from this distance, which is a