The Heir

Chapter 18

"Hey, Mom," I wedge my phone between my shoulder and my ear as I grab my calculator from my locker.

"Ciao, tesoro," her chipper voice comes from the other end of the call.

"What's up?" I slam my locker shut. I jut my chin towards the athletic building and Noah nods in understanding, leading Akio away.

"So much," she sighs. "Cat decided she wants to follow in your footsteps so she's in dance every day. Gabby fell off her horse the other day but she only has a couple of bruises. Sofia might just drive your father insane, though."

"What's she doing?" I ask curiously.

"She has a boyfriend," Mom whispers.

"No way," I gasp. "She's thirteen."

"I know," she replies. "Your uncle is the only thing stopping him from killing the poor kid."

"Go Gio," I chide.

"Apparently he's been helping you out too," her tone shifts slightly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say firmly.

"I'm not stupid, Isabelle."

Shit. The full name.

"I know you're not," I reply. Noah holds open the door for me as we walk outside.

"Are you sure that this is what you want?" I can hear the trepidation in her voice.

"Yes."

She sighs heavily, "I'll see what I can do."

"Really?" I ask. No fucking way she's giving me her stamp of approval.

"Pending grades and any disciplinary issues," she says slowly, like she's choosing her words carefully. "I will speak to your father after the debutante ball."

I roll my eyes. I forgot about that stupid thing. It's a tradition at Montrose for their very best female students to attend the annual Geneva debutante ball. Being the best does not only include academics. Extracurriculars, leadership roles, and even lineage play a big part.

"Grazie, Mom," I breathe out.

"I'll talk to you soon, tesoro," she replies.

I hang up with a smile on my face. Not only do I have Gio on my side, but also my mother. My dad may brush off Gio's opinions, but he can't ignore them both.

Akio ventures off into the art building for his painting class and Noah and I continue to the athletic building. We separate to go into the locker rooms. It always smells like a perfume store exploded in here and I weave between my half clothed classmates to my locker.

I quickly exchange my uniform for my sports kit and lace up my sneakers. Much like at dance, I don't bother with the silly locker room conversations. I listen to everything, but I almost never interject.

"Did you hear who Meredith hooked up with?"
"Marcus says he's going to meet me after curfew."
"Mr. Gott is such a hardass."

The gym floor squeaks under my shoes. Most of the boys in the class are congregated together under one of the basketball hoops. Ryan, Noah and Will sit off to the side on the bleachers. I move to join them, planting myself on the plastic bench beside Will.

"Hey," I chirp.

"Hey," Noah grins. "We were just talking about this guy's new art project."

Will's cheeks flush, "it's nothing special."

"Then why won't you tell us about it?" Noah pushes.

"It's personal," Will shrugs.

"Leave him alone," I swat at Noah.