Beth Bishop Fairest (epub)

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.FairestByBeth BishopCredits PageEternal PressA division of Damnation Books, LLC.P.O.Box 3931Santa Rosa, CA 95402-9998www.eternalpress.bizFairestby Beth BishopDigital ISBN: 978-1-61572-951-7Print ISBN: 978-1-61572-952-4Cover art by: Amanda KelseyEdited by: Andrea Heacock-ReyesCopyright 2013 Beth BishopPrinted in the United States of AmericaWorldwide Electronic & Digital RightsWorldwide English Language Print RightsAll rights reserved.No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.This book is a work of fiction.Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.Dedication pageThis book is dedicated to my husband and mother—my most loving audience and editors.Chapter OneI never got into trouble, so I worried when Doctor Heisen asked me to stay after class.As I waited for my classmates to file out of the room, I stared out the window.Trig was my last class of the day, and it being January, the sun set early.I hoped this talk wouldn’t take too long.I planned to have an early dinner and get back to my dorm before the slush refroze.When the room was clear, I hitched my backpack on my shoulder and walked up to stand before Doctor Heisen’s desk.Seated there with his reading glasses perched near the end of his nose, he looked up at me and asked, “Have you ever considered tutoring math, Miss Daniels?” Before I could answer, he glossed over my ability and talent and went straight for the meat.“I see you’re lacking in community service.” He glanced down at a sheet of paper on his desk before removing his glasses.Judging by the memo notes at the top, it had come from the office of Irstwitch School’s counselor for second-year girls, Doctor Jennings.I shifted my backpack onto both shoulders.“Yes, sir.”“You haven’t joined any clubs?”“No, sir.”He nodded.“You could use the credits, then.This will be an easy way for you to get them.”I purposefully steered clear of anything that involved me spending time with other Irstwitch students.I was friendly and wanted friends, but there were only two social classes at Irstwitch: the blue-blooded rich and those on scholarship.I am nouveau riche—an outcast from both groups.Doctor Heisen eyed me, and then his expression softened.“I know it’s tough for you, but you really need these credits.”“Yes, sir.I’ll do it.”“Good.I’ll let Whitney know to meet you in the library this evening at four.Three or four times a week should suffice.”“Yes, sir.”That meant I would be out after dark.Since I would be out anyway, I decided to postpone dinner and go back to my dorm for a warmer sweater and a scarf.In the time between class and meeting Whitney, I could work on my Latin or Biology.Shoulders hunched against the cold and attention, I left the building and made the five-minute walk to my dorm in only four.When I passed through the study hall on my floor, I saw five third-year girls sitting at one of the tables, gossiping more than they were studying.In a year and a half, I had grown used to the sniggers and whispers that often came in my wake.I liked the school itself.The classes challenged me and would prepare me for any university, Ivy League or otherwise.My daddy insisted that, since he could afford it, I would have only the best.That is how I wound up at Irstwitch.His sizable donation and ability to pay my full tuition guaranteed a spot for me in the classrooms as well as in the newest girls’ dorm and a rare, single room.I had already started down the hall to my room when Sicily, a third-year, called, “Hey, blue Skye,” in a fake southern accent.The other girls broke into a round of giggles, and one of them said, “Dead mother,” in a loud whisper.“Hey,” I mumbled as I unlocked my door.After closing and locking the door, I flopped onto my bed and stared at the smooth, white ceiling.Stupid, mean girls, I thought.On a campus of barely 600 people, with about 150 people per grade level, I had crossed paths with just about everyone in my grade and quite a few others.Even so, I wasn’t friends with any of them.The girls in my year didn’t live in my dorm or study with me, so they didn’t make friends with me.The third years…well, they treated me the same way Sicily did—like trash.All because of how my daddy made his money.Through the door, I heard clucking and mooing as someone passed my room.I wrinkled my lip at the door and rolled away from it to look out the window.It was a typically gray, cold Connecticut winter day.I longed for the crowds of New York, where my father kept an apartment near his executive office.Irstwitch was only an hour away, but buried in the woods, it felt much further than that.Even more so, I longed for the sunshine and warmth of Savannah, the city I where I grew up.The city I considered home, even if our house there didn’t feel like it.After an hour of staring at clouds and not doing homework, I brushed my hair and smoothed my wrinkled blouse, skirt, and the wool coat that I hadn’t bothered removing.I decided against the sweater but wound my school scarf around my neck before hefting on my backpack.Staring at my feet, I walked from my room straight to the library.Inside, I staked out two chairs at one of the long, wooden tables, took off my backpack, scarf, and coat, and I sat down to wait on Whitney.Thirty minutes later, I took out my volume of Edgar Allen Poe and read.It was a nice volume, leather bound, and only ten bucks on the discount aisle at the bookstore.I probably could’ve gotten a similar price for it on my e-reader, but I liked having real books.I smiled a little, thinking that the frugal attitude I’d been raised with stuck with me even after it was no longer necessary.When an hour was up, I decided this Whitney girl wasn’t going to show.I slipped my volume of Poe into my bag and stuffed my notebook underneath it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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