to remember to ask Angie later.
I climbed out of the back of the little car that would have sent Caleb into a fit of hysteria over the way Georgia had just driven it. Caleb was an engineering major, planned on becoming an automotive-designer, and loved his collection of fast toys that he had at our Virginia house. My stepbrother would have been raging had he seen the way Georgia had nearly taken out not only a mailbox and a stop sign, but a freaking water hydrant in the span of ten minutes.
“I’ll show you to the office,” Carolina offered as she waited for me to get climb out of the back seat.
“No, thanks. I got this,” I called over my shoulder as I put my Beats earbud in my left ear and turned on some actual music to soothe the pain of having to hear crap music on the trip to school. Seether filled my left ear and I sighed in relief as I entered the building.
Fifteen minutes later, as I stood in front of the secretary with all the documents that I’d been told to produce, I was already wishing I were back in Virginia. Jillian had called my cellphone not ten seconds after I had entered the building raging because I had left the house without my hair fixed or any makeup on. The principal had spotted me as soon as I had entered the office and I’d been forced to endure a five-minute lecture on why everyone had to wear white polo shirts under their blazers, and was made to promise to wear the correct garment the next day.
To top it off there were no extracurricular classes open that I was interested in. Thankfully, however, the secretary had promised me that she would work me into the school newspaper for my third-period class. If I couldn’t take the poetry class, at least I could do some kind of writing.
Finally the older woman handed me my class schedule and a map of the school. “Your first class has already started, so hurry along. If you need to make any changes to your schedule make sure you do so by the end of the week or this one will be filed as final.”
Picking up the sheets of paper, I glanced at the schedule and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes as I saw that it was trigonometry. Boring. I’d already taken trig back in Virginia, but obviously East Coast trig was so much different that West Coast trig and I had to learn it all over again.
The halls were empty as I made my way to my first class. It took almost five minutes but I finally found the designated classroom and opened the door. As I stepped inside, the class became silent. The teacher, who had been standing at the front of the class asking a question, paused long enough to look at me.
“Can we help you?” he asked in a bored tone.
“I’m McKinley Montez,” I informed him as I stepped toward him, offering him the schedule so that he could confirm I was in the correct room.
The teacher’s eyes widened and he gave me another once over before accepting my schedule. I knew he couldn’t be surprised that I was Scott Montez’s daughter. Malibu Academy was full of celebrity brats. So what was the big deal about me? Maybe because I looked nothing like my high profile father? Or was it because I’d never been in the tabloids with my father and no one had actually seen what I looked like until my mother’s death? Scott had played Abby’s death up to the media and had made my life even more hellish from the moment my mother had passed away.
I was one hundred percent my mother’s daughter with my long willowy body, dark red hair, and big blue eyes. My skin tone was alabaster and, yes, I did in fact have some curves. No, they were not plastically enhanced like my step-monster’s were. If asked, I would admit that I was cute, but I wouldn’t say that I was necessarily beautiful.
“I’m Mr. Blankenship. Go ahead and take your seat, Miss Montez.”
I shrugged and took the only available seat, which was two rows over from the door and three chairs back. I kept my eyes on my desk until I was seated, then pulled out my notebook and a pen in case I needed to take notes, but I figured I was just going to be doodling