Peyton Church is a city girl by anyone's standards. Born and raised in New York City, she grew up wanting for nothing. She attended the most prestigious preparatory schools, shopped on Fifth Avenue, dined with the rich and famous and was adored by...
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STARTING AT A new school is terrible. But starting at a new school in the middle of the semester, when you know absolutely nobody— with the exception of your irritating little brother— is worse.
Rock Valley High, home of the Ravens, is the chosen secondary educational institute of the two hundred or so teenagers of Rock Valley and the surrounding areas. The school, apparently built a hundred years ago or something, stands in the middle of town. Only two stories and about the size of a friend's house in the Hamptons, it's incredibly underwhelming for a girl accustomed to going to school in a district full of historic landmarks.
For the first time in my seventeen years, I'm forced to walk to school, with my brother. I've never even gone to the same school as Jayden; I've always attended all-girls schools, and he's always attended all boys schools. So this public co-ed education things is new to us both.
Also new? The lack of cars in the student parking lot when we arrive. There's only a handful of old cars— nothing newer than 2010– and a couple of trucks that had seen better days.
"It's like stepping into the sixties or something," I mutter under my breath as Jayden and I continue down the sidewalk towards the front doors.
He snorts a laugh as he hitches his backpack over his shoulder. "We're not in Manhatten anymore, Pey," he says, shaking his head at my theatrics.
"Obviously. Have you seen what everyone is wearing?"
A few dozen students are huddled up out front of the school, talking in groups. Practically every one of the boys is wearing jeans and button ups, the odd one in a hoodie instead— my baby brother included. The girls, on the other hand, all look the same in leggings or jeans, long sleeve shirts and plaid scarves.
Jayden looks around quickly, shrugging his shoulders. "Everyone looks the same."
With a sigh, I wrap my one arm around his shoulders, leaning against him playfully. "Because they probably bought their clothes at Target."
"So, you're making fun of them because their outfits cost them about as much as your tights?" He chuckles, pointing at the black tights I'm wearing under my grey pleated skirt.
I shove his arm as we reach the door. "It's about quality, Jay. Something you've never quite grasped if your previous girlfriends are any evidence."
He shoots a glare in my direction, before stepping in front of a blonde girl walking past us. "Hey, sorry, my name's Jayden. I'm kinda new here. You think you could tell me where the office is?" He asks her with a lazy smile.
