CHAPTER Three
Monroe could be a supermodel. No, I take that back. She should be the girl that tells supermodels how to be supermodels. She was ridiculously beautiful, making my mind immediately transport to every single book I’d read in the past year that warned me against girls who looked like her.
This girl was like a walking advertisement to horny guys. For one thing, the dress she was wearing was so short I found myself gaping and then blushing when she leaned over to pick up a box to take to my room. Wasn’t there a dress code at this school?
“So, that’s all you have?”
She flipped her jet black hair back and pulled some lip gloss out of her bra. Her black dress inched higher again. Oh gosh, I was so completely out of my element.
“I… have a suitcase downstairs, but Nixon said—”
“—Screw Nixon. last time I checked, he wasn’t God, nor would he be wanted by Him. Now, let’s go grab your suitcase and I’ll show you where the elevator is.”
She linked her arm within mine and skipped down the hall. Somehow I had trouble keeping up with her even though she was the one in six-inch heels. We walked into the main corridor and then through a door facing the brick wall. As soon as we went through the door, I saw a row of elevators.
“Any reason they keep these hidden?” I asked.
Monroe nodded and then pointed up to the ceiling, several security screens showed each elevator. “Added security since last year someone tried to bomb the school. Thus all the access cards and secrecy about the elevator. Last year someone was able to make it to the top floor before security caught wind of it.”
“So it really is like prison?” I gulped.
Monroe laughed. “No, it’s not that bad. But I mean, when you have the type of students that Elite has, you can’t be too cautious.”
I didn’t ask what she meant, because everyone knew what type of people went here. Children of diplomats, celebrities, and even some of the presidents’ kids had attended.
Once we reached the bottom floor, the elevator door dinged open and she walked me outside.
“Uh, is that yours?” She pointed to my suitcase. Correction, she pointed to my open suitcase. Clothes were everywhere on the pavement.
I screamed and ran toward clothes before they blew away. All of my possessions were in the process of making a sweep of the campus.
Monroe, to her credit, ran after some of the things and helped me gather up as much as possible.
Pretty sure I lost some of my underwear.
“He’s a jerk.” Monroe helped me off my knees once I zipped up the suitcase. “Look.” She glanced behind her and hurried me inside. “He’s the favorite because he’s a suck ass and my dad believes women are beneath him.”
That apple sure didn’t make it far from the tree.
“Anyways, if I throw a fit, my dad will probably just turn the other way and say his hands are tied. I can help you with the other kids, but with Nixon, you’re kind of on your own. Did he give you a key card?”
“Yup.” I pulled it out of my pocket and flashed it to her. “Two meals a day and one elevator ride a week. I’m truly living the high life.”
Monroe threw her head back and laughed. “Stick with me, and you very well may be right. Come on, there’s a kickoff party tonight, and we have work to do.”
“Wait…”I dug in my heels. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I hated being suspicious, but then again, I’d never met people like those who went to school here.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I told you. I’m your roommate.”
That made sense. We walked in silence to the elevator. “Are you this nice to all your roommates?”
“No. I killed two of them, but my dad covered it up…”
Speechless, my mouth dropped open.
“Wow, I’m totally kidding. I’ve never had a roommate before this year. My dad thought he was punishing me by cramping my space. Instead, I’m relieved. I can’t stand those bitches on the third floor.”
“So, does that make you and Nixon a year apart?”
“No.” Monroe flashed me a smile. “That makes us twins.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, me too.” We had reached the top floor again. Monroe took my bag. “Let’s go, New Girl. People to see and boys to flirt with.”
****
She wasn’t kidding about not having much time. Three hours later and I was new woman. She’d used this weird rod thingy to curl my long brown hair into beach waves and then proceeded to pluck my eyebrows into oblivion. I’d always liked my eyebrows. Sure they were thick but they framed my face quite nicely. I hoped by the time she was done I would still have some hair.
I wasn’t allowed to look at myself until she was done with my makeup.
“Okay, almost done. Now, what did you bring to wear?”
I jumped from the chair and reached into my suitcase pulling out the tea length dress I’d worn to grandma’s funeral. It was the nicest thing I’d owned and I’d even ordered it offline from Forever 21. So it had to be trendy.
“That’s cute.” Monroe squinted her nose. “But it’s kinda young for you.”
“Young?” I repeated looking at the yellow and white striped spaghetti strap dress.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s cute and it would probably be killer for a picnic or something fun. But this is the first party where everyone’s going to meet you. You need to look serious, you need to look hot, and you need to look untouchable.”
“Okay.” I chewed my lip.
“Don’t worry, I think I’ve got the perfect dress.”
My stomach launched into nervous somersaults. If it was anything like the dress she was wearing now, then I was going to be put in prison for prostituting myself out.
“Here.” She threw me a short black leather skirt, an oversized sweater with holes and some tights that were completely black until they reached mid-thigh and then sheer.
I quickly threw everything on. She kept handing me things and I kept dressing. Two bracelets and one freakishly long necklace later she declared me ready.
I was finally allowed to look in the mirror.
I smiled at my reflection. I looked perfect. Not like her and not like a supermodel, but like me. The makeup made my brown eyes pop, and my outfit still looked classy but fun.
“Shoes!” Monroe yelled. “Crap, what size of shoe do you wear?”
“Eight?”
“Crap.” She began to pace. “I wear a ten.”
Of course.
“Um, I may have something.” I tore open my suitcase and pulled out grandma’s old vintage heels, the ones I always used to play dress up in when I was little.
“Nice! Where’d you get these?”
“My grandma.” I shrugged.
“Remind me to tell her what a kick ass dresser she is next time she visits.”
“She’s dead,” I said it quietly, quickly.
The room fell silent. My eyes shifted to the floor. I hated this part. The part where people don’t know what to say but all you really want is for them to say nothing.
“That sucks.” She exhaled heavily and then placed the shoes on the floor. “I think she’d want you to rock 'em, what do you think?”
I swallowed the knot in my throat and nodded with watery eyes. “I think she would too.”
“Great, now let’s go party and show my brother what a complete loser he is.”
We linked arms and made our way to the party. It was the first time in six months I’d had another female to talk to. The first time in my life I’d had a friend who was a girl. I really liked it.