The Lost Daughter

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

The huge brick structure looms over us as Weston drives along behind the rest of the cars towards the back of the school and the student parking lot.

The area is just as well kept as the front of the school. The lawns are freshly cut and a vibrant, healthy green. There isn't so much as a crack in the pavement or stone walkways that I can see.

I think about my last school, and the ones before that, the exposed pipes and dumpsters students would hide behind in order to smoke between classes. It's a half a world away from that, with all the rich grandeur this kind of place demands.

There's also the students that are milling around, all wearing the same or similar clothes to both me and Wes. Attractive boys and girl all leaning against cars, sitting at picnic tables, or entering the school through a large wooden-doored entrance off one of the cobblestone pathways—it's a strange and foreign sight to see.

Wes pulls into a parking space surprisingly close to those doors, considering how many cars already fill the lot, and next to a beautiful little black car that I realize after staring for a while is Wren's.

As we exit the car, I can feel the weight of people's stares. Every time I'm exposed to my peers in this town, I become more and more fond of Wes' approach to it all. His cool composure and unaffectedness, and I take his lead here to ignore as much of it as I can.

He walks around the front of the car and pauses to wait for me to join him on the walkway, and I do, searching halfheartedly for my younger brothers in the flock's of people littered around as we start to walk together.

Wyatt's easy to find, his large frame and bright blonde hair stands out easily when I'm looking for it. He's stood a few spots down from our parking space, next to Jackson—who's leaning against the hood of a car I might recognize and wouldn't be surprised to learn is his, some type of restored old American style car.

With them are two of the boys from the party, one I distinctly remember is Carter, and the other is Kian. There's a few girls with them as well, in a few slight deviations of the same uniform I chose but with a floppy, black bow instead of a tie, and one of them leans in close to Jackson, much closer than the others, her hand resting on the hood and her honey blonde hair cascading in waves over her shoulder.

I look away, my mouth suddenly dry.

I turn my eyes towards Weston, but his attention is focused in that direction as well, and his face is set in an indiscernible, hard expression.

I search my mind for an excuse to get us away from here, berating myself even as I do, but even I can't control my nerves or ugly jealousy.

I'm about to tell him I want to go look for Wren, or something, but I'm not fast enough, and Wyatt's voice rings out over the parking lot as he calls to us.

Weston's already heading in that direction, and a beat later, I follow him reluctantly.

As he's prone to do, Wyatt throws his arm around my shoulder as we get close enough to the group, and I do my best to ignore whatever feelings there are boiling under my skin.

"What's up, Wills?" Wyatt asks as he squeezes and shakes my shoulder playfully.

"Hey," I mumble my greeting, smiling and mostly directing my attention to Kian, standing tall and pulling off his own blazered uniform quite well, and is just as good looking as I remember him being in the bright morning light.

"Willa," Carter immediately interjects smoothly, forcing my eyes to him and to see his slick smile fully formed on his face. "Have you and Addison had the chance to meet?"