Dirty Little Secrets (Hillcrest Prep #1.5) - Trilina Pucci Page 0,1
beat you by more,” Grey levels, climbing from his scull and standing next to Liam.
Everyone has a defining moment in their life, and I think this might be mine. All I can do is nod as I climb the ladder to the dock, looking at the guys—respect reflected.
The coach is walking down the dock to meet us as he calls out, grabbing our collective attention. We turn and meet him in the middle as he holds out his hand for me to shake.
“Mr. Price, I’m impressed. I have no reservations saying that you will be the future of this team, and by the end of next year, you just may be able to best McCallister.”
“Unlikely” is said behind me, and I turn, humor planted on my face, reaching for my crotch.
“I’m dry. But damn if you weren’t wrong. You’re a fast son of a bitch.”
Laughter rings out between the three of us as Liam slaps my shoulder. “Let me introduce you to your future.”
Ava
“Come. You have to, Aves. It’s a party to celebrate the new crew guy. Trust me. You want to know the hotties on the crew team,” Laura whines, seated at the vanity in her bedroom.
Oh, I know them—the entire school does. They’re arrogant gods whose last names hang from the buildings around New York. They run this school, and I’m sure the world, one day. But I’m happy to fly under the radar. Every one of those boys is the same, save a few—but those ones are taken.
“Eh, who cares. They seem like assholes,” I answer dismissively, flipping through a magazine.
“They are. But, like, the hot kind,” my cousin counters, giggling at the end.
I look up, joining in, because as dumb as that sounds, I know exactly what she means. The hottest guys always have a dash of arrogance, with a heap of cocky charm—just enough to make them delicious assholes who you fall for, hard. Not that I get to date those guys, but I know about them.
“Plus,” she breathes out dramatically, “I can’t have my cousin representing the nerd crew next year.”
I set my magazine down and narrow my eyes. Laura’s family, but man is she a bitch. If I had my way, we wouldn’t hang out as much. But I don’t. Our mothers force us together often. On my end, I think mine hopes that some of Laura’s popularity and personality will rub off on me. My mother wants me to grow up and matriculate into the “women’s clubs” and the “ladies who brunch” cliques she adores so much. But I prefer my “nerd crew”—people who care about school, volunteering, the world, and appreciate a book that isn’t written by a celebrity. It’s not as if I’m unsocial, more like the things I’m interested in don’t matter to them.
Laura pulls her long red hair into a ponytail, slicking the sides back. “I’ve given a pound of flesh to be in with Caroline Whitmore. Status is important. She’s a game-changer, Ava. Tonight will be good for you.”
“That girl’s the devil,” I whisper under my breath, reopening the magazine.
Silence permeates the room, causing me to look up again, and by the scowl on her face, my words weren’t hushed enough. Whoops.
“Don’t cross her.”
“Mmmkay,” I answer, as she continues over me.
“So next year,” she drawls out, “I expect you to run this school as I did. And tonight will ensure that.”
My eyes roll and roll hard as I flop back on the bed. The cliques, the status requirements in our world make me feel like I’m running on an expensive diamond-encrusted hamster wheel. I wish I could meet a girl from over the bridge that looked just like me and we could switch places.
“Hellooo? Are you listening?”
I let out a sigh. “Sorry, I was wishing my life was a Mary Kate and Ashley movie.”
“Focus, Ava.”
There’s no way I’m getting out of this. My refusal is meaningless, but maybe I can still make it worth my while.
I push up to my elbows, locking eyes with her through the mirror. “All right. I’ll go. But only if you shut up and convince your mom to let me switch places with you to visit Aunt Stella next weekend.”
Laura twists in her vanity seat, leveling her eyes on me. “That’s a big trade, little Aves. Are you negotiating? How non-nerdy of you.”
Visiting Aunt Stella is coveted amongst the cousins. She’s filthy rich, and each time she has something nipped or tucked and she requires help, one of us goes. And we