Knowing the Score - 1 (Patreon)

Aaaand we're back, with the start of Rose's point of view!

I've really wanted to start writing this... essentially for a year, since I started Keeping Score, honestly. But I also knew I wanted to hold onto it until we were able to have Adult Rose talk to Abbie about her past (made for such a great narrative reveal!)

So, without pushing it out any longer, here we are:

------Knowing the Score------

One.

Everything was a mess. Everything was wrong.

Rose knew all of her parents’ rules. She knew what was expected of her. It would have been impossible to have grown up as an Elliston and not have known what was expected of her.

What it meant to “be an Elliston” had been impressed upon her since before she could remember. The right posture, the right things to say, acceptable universities and career paths.

Acceptable partners.

And she’d known – of course she’d known – that her feelings for Tessa weren’t going to be accepted by her parents.

That was why she’d had absolutely zero intention of telling them!

But she… she couldn’t help the way she’d felt. The way she’d been feeling, all year. Since she’d made the varsity team, since she’d started getting closer to Tessa. All of the girls on the team were friendly to her, and she’d started to feel a little comfortable with them.

But – she knew what decorum was expected of her.

She was allowed to play soccer – especially because her skill and her drive made her a star on the team. But she was not to devolve into ridiculous antics with the team. She knew they had parties – and she knew if she ever got caught at one of them, she’d have hell to pay. She knew a lot of the girls that lived on campus would sneak out every now and then, running around the city, doing something “fun” – and she knew that the consequences for her being caught doing something like that would be far worse than anyone else’s.

Everyone else would get a slap on the wrist. A demerit. A small punishment for breaking the rules.

And Rose would get that, too. Then she would have to face whatever punishment her parents – her father – determined was appropriate for smearing the Elliston name.

“You might technically be a peer to your classmates, your teammates. But you aren’t their peer. Their names, the Smiths and Joneses and So-and-sos, they will all come and go. Your name will be here forever.”

She knew that. And she didn’t have trouble adhering to it.

Most of the time.

And then… there was Tessa.

Who never tried to cajole her into going out with their teammates when they shouldn’t. Who wasn’t loud and brash and bold. Who sat next to Rose. Who made the same snarky commentary out loud that ran through Rose’s mind. She got Rose. She felt… understood, in a very quiet way. Quiet because they didn’t have to vocalize it.

Tessa, whose touch she could still feel. The way her fingers had brushed over Rose’s when they’d sat next to each other on the team bus.

Her heart had leapt into her throat at the simple touch, and her eyes darted to Tessa’s, her breath caught in her lungs… and Tessa had been staring right back at her. With that same look.

The look that had been on her face just two or three hours ago – maybe it had been even longer? It felt like it had been, by now. She didn’t actually know – when Rose had taken Tessa up to her room. When she’d leaned in, and everything inside of her felt so alive, and she’d been uncertain but also… never more certain of anything in her life up to that point.

And then her father had walked in, and Rose hadn’t been able to stop shaking since.

Her nerves felt so fried, like she’d touched a live wire and had barely survived to tell the tale, and her stomach was a mess with nerves, tangling so tightly she thought she might be sick.

Only, she couldn’t be sick. Because she was in her father’s office, where he’d hissed out an order for her to wait for him.

And if she threw up in here, she could only imagine there would be even more hell to pay than what was awaiting her.

She didn’t even know what was awaiting her.

Because her father had walked in twenty minutes ago, and pointedly ignored her when she turned to face him, her posture ramrod straight, shaking from adrenaline. Of fear.

She’d never been in trouble like this before.

She’d learned how to not get in trouble with her parents a long time ago – keep your head down, do what was expected, and everyone won.

Her dad was vibrating with tension, the severe lines on his face thrown into shadows as he sat on the leather wingback chair next to the window. Sipping on the whiskey he’d poured himself when he’d walked in. And every few seconds, after taking a long sip, he’d slam his tumbler down with more force than was necessary.

Every time, she jumped. Physically started, while her anxiety notched up higher and higher inside.

“Dad,” she croaked out, finally, pushing both of her hands flat against her stomach. Willing herself not to be sick. “I’m sorry.”

He scoffed, derisively, and cast her a look for the first time. “Oh, you’re sorry?” There was a hard, mocking edge to his voice. “Do you even understand what you could have cost me – our legacy, this very institution that you have the privilege of sharing a name with – tonight? The Samson family gives a five million dollar endowment to this school every year. With the expectation that we uphold the reputation we’ve built for generations. That we provide not only an outstanding education, but are preparing young minds for the world. A world in which they are successful. Dignified. Intelligent, productive, effective members of society.”

In a move that she’d never seen from her usually very collected – terrifyingly rigid – father, he slammed his fist down onto the table. The glass on it clattered, and she gasped, then jumped back, positive it would break, and shocked when it didn’t.

Her slamming against her rib cage, her gaze was glued to that table. Not looking at her dad. Unable to.

“The Samson’s, like many financial supporters of this institution, don’t give their donations or enroll their children at a school in which we allow depraved, shameful behavior. And…” He slowly turned to look at her, his cheeks red with anger. “You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t…” Her voice was strangled in her throat, unsure of how to defend herself.

Because there was no defense.

Her dad knew what he’d seen; she couldn’t try to pretend otherwise.

“You didn’t what?” He pushed, tapping his fingers impatiently down on the arm of the chair. “You didn’t know… that I’ve spent your entire life molding you to be the next Elliston at the helm? You didn’t know that I’ve given you every possible tool you could need for success, but you’d still choose to throw it away?”

Her lips moved, but nothing came out for long moments, before she managed, “All of it. I’m sorry,” she repeated, because she didn’t know what else to offer.

He scoffed. “Your sorry is worthless, Rose. There are some situations that you can’t come back from with a useless, flimsy apology. It’s too late for “sorry.””

She stared, wide-eyed, at him, acutely aware of every breath that she sharply took in. If “sorry” didn’t matter anymore, then… what could? She knew her father well enough to know that there was going to be a consequence.

But – but she didn’t know what it could be, and the uncertainty ate her up.

“You should feel very, very fortunate that I was able to talk some sense into Bernard and Odette tonight,” he stated, evenly. “That I was able to make them see that I – that this school – does not condone, in any way, the lifestyle you chose to put on display.”

The alarm in the back of her head was starting to blare, but she couldn’t quite put together where this was going. What he was leading into.

“Verbal apologies mean nothing without action,” he said, that threatening, unsettling tone in the quiet tone of his voice.  

Action… what action could she possibly take? What could she do –

“They got me into contact with an organization they’re familiar with. An organization that will help get you back on the right track.” He tipped back the remainder of his whiskey, snapping his glass back down. “You’re leaving first thing in the morning.”

A different, colder, terror iced through her veins. “Leaving?” She echoed, breathlessly. “What is this organization? Where is it? Where are you sending me?” The final thought swung at her, landing like a punch to the stomach, forcing her into a whole new panic. “When am I coming back?”

He turned his stare onto her again, and it was so hard. So angry. So unyielding. “That’s for you to decide.”

Desperate, she shook her head. What did that even mean? What did it mean?

“Dad, please.” She choked on the plea as it escaped her, and only realized her feet had finally started working again when she found herself walking over to him. “Please, don’t send me away. I won’t do it again. I promise. I swear to you, I’ve never even done it, before–”

“I’m supposed to believe that? You humiliated me tonight. You degraded yourself. You could have cost this school – and therefore everyone that works here, all of the other students – millions of dollars. And you expect me to trust a single word out of your mouth?”

Her knees wobbled, weakly, hardly able to hold herself up, as she felt his words – and the contempt in his voice – land like a physical blow.

“Where is it?” She pushed, gritting her teeth as she managed to ask again, the most important thing. “When am I coming back?”

Because if there was one thing Rose knew for sure: maybe she felt like she was under constant surveillance here at Elliston? But if her father was sending her somewhere as a punishment for being queer, it was going to be a hell of a lot worse.

“Go home,” he barked in an order, leaving no room for argument in the sharp glare he sent her. “You’re allowed to bring one duffel bag with you. And if you try to get smart or have an insipid stubborn tantrum and don’t pack one for yourself, you’ll be going with nothing but the clothes on your back.”

***

“Mom, can you please do – something? Anything?” She begged.

And she didn’t remember the last time she’d begged her mother for anything. Because it was fucking useless, and she knew it, but she was so desperate. She’d never felt like this in her life.

It was barely seven in the morning, the sun was shining brightly through the large windows – Rose could only imagine that all of her classmates, her teammates were thrilled that it was such a warm, sunny day to kick off the summer, meanwhile she’d never felt so incongruous with the weather in her life. How could the sun be shining and birds chirping when her world was crashing down around her?

She hadn’t slept a wink all night. She’d come home and packed a duffel bag on autopilot, because she knew her father wasn’t making an empty threat. He had every intention of sending her somewhere, and he would have no qualms about her having her own bag or not.

And then she’d sat on the edge of her bed, wringing her hands together, as she’d stared at her door. Waiting. Waiting, because she was certain that at any moment, he’d come in and they’d be leaving.

She wouldn’t have been able to sleep through this anxiety, so why bother trying? She wasn’t tired, anyway. She was exhausted, but she wasn’t tired. Everything inside of her buzzed on high-alert.

She’d had so many wild thoughts throughout the night. Should she take this duffel and run away?

But… where would she even go? She didn’t have any extended family. She didn’t have any money to her own name. She was sixteen; she didn’t even have a fake ID.

By the time the sun had started coming up on the horizon, she’d heard her mother downstairs, and she’d decided this was her only chance.

It was a slim chance… her mother having any say over anything, any willpower to fight for anything, any spine to even attempt it?

But she had to.

Her mom grimaced, then sipped at whatever vodka-based cocktail she’d already been drinking when Rose had walked into the sunroom to find her.

“What do you want me to do, Rose?” She asked when she put her glass down, staring challengingly back at her.

“I don’t know!” The words fell out of her mouth, desperation raking at her throat, roughly. “But dad is sending me somewhere. I don’t know where. Or for how long? Or…” She trailed off, dragging her fingers through her hair, unable to properly control her breathing. “Please, I won’t do it again. Can you just – try?”

“You shouldn’t have done it in the first place,” her mom snapped, before she reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have a migraine coming on. I can’t deal with this. You’ll go where your father wants you to go.”

“You don’t even know where,” Rose stated, flatly, as the realization dawned on her.

Her mother didn’t even know where her father had already made plans to send her. She likely didn’t know for how long, either.

And she clearly didn’t care. Not enough to do anything about it, or even try to get the answers.

That comprehension sent a whole new hollow feeling throughout her entire body. A numbness seeping to every part of her.

There was no getting out of this.

“Stop running your hands through your hair like that; it’ll start to thin,” her mom absently ordered as she took another long sip of her drink.

Rose could only stare.

Her hair. Her hair? How was she supposed to care about her fucking hair right now?!

“Your father knows what he’s doing,” her mother said, as she turned and walked toward the short stairs that led back into the main house. She braced her hand tightly on the banister by the second step, which told Rose all she needed to know about how sober her mother was in the moment.

She’d learned to look for that dead giveaway long ago. How much assistance her mom needed when she was going up the stairs would always tell her how fucked up she was.

“Goodbye,” she muttered sharply at her back, before she turned to stare out at the morning sun as it shined down onto the immaculately cut grass in the backyard.

She’d never intended for her parents to know anything, at all. Maybe deep down she’d started to piece together that she was… that she didn’t like boys. But she hadn’t put any thought into what she was going to do about it, if she ever would do or say anything. Publicly, anyway.

Because – as an Elliston – she knew that what happened in public and what happened in private were two very, very different stories.

Publicly, her parents were happily married and in love, and doted on her. Publicly, her father was charismatic. Publicly, her mother was organized, on the boards of multiple foundations.

Privately, the three of them had lived completely separate lives for as long as Rose could remember. Since long, long before she’d turned twelve and had moved into the Elliston residence hall.

Privately, her father was the most straight-laced, humorless, greedy person Rose had ever met.

Privately, her mother abused substances – either alcohol or prescription pills, depending on the day – that unless they were going to an event and were out of the house, she couldn’t speak without slurring her words past seven o’clock at night.

So… Rose didn’t understand. Why couldn’t her private life – behind closed doors, at night, when she was alone – be her… not being straight? How was it any different than what her parents did?

She didn’t realize that she’d completely zoned out and disassociated, until she blinked and suddenly there were two people in front of her.

And she fell back in her chair, her heart hammering in her chest as she tightly gripped at the armrests.

They were strangers. Absolute strangers, in her house. Towering over her.

One of them was a man, wearing a white button-down tucked into khakis, his hair combed down so perfectly, it looked like it was fake. He was deceptively big, was her second thought. Even though she was sitting, she could tell that he was well over six feet tall, and he stood with his hands interlocked in front of him.

Slightly angled in front of him was the woman. Whose hair was also weirdly shiny, pulled into a tight ponytail, wearing a similar long-sleeved shirt, tucked into a khaki skirt that went right to her ankles.

But the scariest, most disturbing thing about both of them were their smiles. Their big, pasted-on, toothy grins, aimed right down at her. They might be smiling, but there was absolutely no warmth behind it.

“Hello, Rose,” the woman chirped, leaning over her.

Rose curled her fingers so tightly into the arms of the chair, they ached. Even though the fear had firmly settled inside of her, she clenched her jaw and angled her head up at them. “Who are you?”

“Wow, that’s quite the attitude you have there!” The man also chirped, that eerie smile not cracking one bit. “You’ll need to work on that.”

Rose swallowed thickly at the chill that worked through her, trying to control her breathing, even as she glared at him.

“We’re here to escort you to Ohio, and make sure you have a smooth transition into Circle of Mercy,” the woman informed her.

“Ohio?” Rose echoed, dubiously. “Circle of Mercy?” She pressed herself as firmly as she could into her chair. “I’m not going anywhere with either of you.”

“You are,” her dad said from behind them, alerting her to his presence for the first time. “That is where you’re going to learn a lesson that, apparently, we haven’t been able to teach you at home.”

She couldn’t even see him, not around the hulking figure of the man.

Still, she shook her head. Feeling like a cornered animal about to be shot, as she looked back and forth between the man and the woman.

“Faith doesn’t make all things easy, but it does make them possible,” the man informed her, cheerfully. “You are the one that can control how easy this is.”

“You are coming with us, Rose,” the woman chimed in, continuing to give her that unblinking, wide, unsettling grin. “I suggest you get up on your own. Or we will have to make you. And that’s not my favorite way to start our journey in guiding you to righteousness.”

May god help her.

But she had a strong feeling that the opposite was about to happen.

***

As she arrived back at Elliston, dropped off by the car her father had hired to pick her up from the airport, three months later, she simply… stood outside of the main entrance.

Taking in the large, stone structure. Breathing in the subtle smell of the perfectly manicured garden.

Elliston had never looked scary or imposing to her. In a way, it had always felt like both a home and a prison, in weirdly equal measures.

But after being at the Circle of Mercy…

She knew what a prison was, now.

And Elliston was a paradise in comparison.

She breathed in a long, relieved inhale, even though her insides were still doing that constant, sickening squirmy thing. The thing that had started on her way to Ohio and hadn’t stopped all summer long.

She was slightly hopeful that feeling would start to go away, but she’d learned to live with it. Learned to accommodate it. If she held everything inside so tightly, if she clenched her muscles, grit her teeth and powered through everything, she could push that feeling down to a distant hum.

She started walking down the hall in the direction of the dorm, relieved that it was late enough that everyone was likely in the dining hall. All probably chatting about classes starting tomorrow, about what had happened over the summer.

There was a chance she’d be able to make it to her room without being seriously waylaid by anyone.

She’d been met at the airport by Ellen, their family’s housekeeper. She was a very serious woman, but not unkind. And she’d given Rose a tote bag, letting her know that her phone, wallet, student ID, and key card for her dorm were in there, letting her know that her dorm room was ready for her. That her laptop and class schedule, as well as school uniforms, soccer uniforms, and the clothing she’d had in her room at the end of last year, were all washed, folded, and ready to start the new year.

“Rose!” Nathan called out, bringing her determined pace to a halt.

She turned to look down the hall she’d been walking past on her way to the elevator to see him. A smile adorned his face as he immediately abandoned the group of friends he’d been walking with, and jogged down the hall that connected them, heading right toward her.

Her relationship with Nathan had always been good, but had grown a little more… complicated, in the last couple of years. Ever since he’d asked her out when they’d started high school.

She’d laughed, because it was what their parents always hinted at, pushed for. And, when they’d been little, they’d rolled their eyes together.

But Nathan’s expression had been so genuine. He hadn’t been laughing. “I’m… I mean it. I’m not doing this because my parents want me to, I – I really like you.”

And Rose’s laughter had promptly died in her throat, the panic welling up inside of her. Nathan had always been a safe place for her, and… if he had feelings for her, didn’t that mean he’d switched sides? Didn’t that mean he was on the side of his parents, or her parents?

She hadn’t had to say anything to him, then. Because he’d taken it on the chin, drawing his hand through his hair. “I can kinda see by the look on your face that it’s a “no.””

“It is a no,” she’d confirmed, staring at him like he was crazy. Like he’d betrayed her, because – in a sense – she’d really felt like he had. “Nathan… I don’t like you, like that.”

She didn’t sugar coat her words, because that was the beauty of Nathan; she didn’t have to sugar coat things to him or “play nice” or whatever. He knew who she was.

He’d shrugged, and the smile he’d worn hadn’t completely died away. “I figured. But it couldn’t hurt to say something. If you change your mind…”

So, even though they’d continued to be friends – they were always friends – the last year and a half had been… a little off. Because she’d started looking at him a little differently. Like, maybe he wasn’t someone she could trust implicitly. Not if he like-liked her.

Despite not being as close as they’d been before, through, she’d never felt happier to see someone in her entire life.

Nathan, with his tousled dark blonde hair and his bright smile. He was, objectively, incredibly cute. She knew that, she could see that. Only, she felt nothing inside light up when she ran an appraising gaze over Nathan, nothing like that tingle she’d felt when she and Tessa had locked eyes.

Right now, though, she felt something else.

A comfort. A warmth. Something she hadn’t felt a hint of in months, and she latched onto it. She hadn’t known just how much she’d needed it, how… how dark she’d felt inside, until she felt the echo of the brightness of Nathan’s smile like a match had been lit.

He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug when he reached her, and she leaned her entire weight into him. Letting him envelop her – he’d already been at least four or five inches taller than she was for the last couple of years, but he’d definitely grown another couple of inches in the last few months.

She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, tightly closing her eyes as she felt the sting of tears hit the back of them. She wrapped her own arms around him tightly, gripping his Elliston t-shirt as she curled her hands into fists.

He rubbed his hands up and down her back, before he gave her another quick squeeze, then froze. “Ah, shit, sorry. I know you don’t like long hugs and stuff.”

She normally didn’t; she hated feeling smothered. And embraces felt smothering to her, because she was so unused to them.

But right now, she felt the opposite.

Right now, Nathan felt solid and steady, like something she hadn’t known if she’d ever feel again.

“It’s okay,” she muttered back, her voice tight, thick with tears she resolutely bit back. “This one time, it’s okay.”

He hugged her a little tighter, rocking slightly back and forth from foot to foot. “Good. I missed you, you know.”

Okay. Okay, this was enough. Because, on a dime, that warmth and comfort from being wrapped up in an embrace shifted inside of her, made her feel claustrophobic. Which made no logical sense, but… but inside, she was so jumbled after the last few months.

She wondered when these random spikes of panic would subside, and desperately hoped it would happen soon.

She drew in a long, deep, calming breath and released him, pushing back from him so she could look up at his face.

And she found that when she said, “I missed you, too.” She’d never meant anything as much as she meant those words.

What she wouldn’t have given while she was at Circle of Mercy to hear one of Nathan’s stupid jokes.

“Did you?” He said curiously, but not accusatory. “I mean… it’s really cool that you got to spend the summer with your aunt in Marseille. I didn’t even know you were going!”

She managed to bite back the surprise before it showed on her face. So, that’s where her parents told everyone she was. It wasn’t a bad lie – her mom’s sister, Adeline, was currently living in Marseille, and Rose had gone to see her last summer for two weeks with her mom. So, she could come up with some stories that could sound realistic, if need be.

“I didn’t know I was going, either,” she informed him that half-truth, the grimly dark humor echoing through her. No, she’d had no idea she’d be leaving for the summer. “My parents sprung it on me as a… a gift,” she barely managed to get the word out, but luckily Nathan was basically the least suspicious person in the world. “On the last day of school.”

“Yeah, I figured it was something like that. I mean, when your parents said that you forgot your phone here, I figured no way could the Rose Elliston I know have had time to prepare! You’d have never forgotten something like that.”

Hadn’t her parents just thought of everything, then? Of course they had.

“Still, though, they have papers and pens in France, right? Postcards?” Nathan joked. “You could have written a bro from Europe. I’d put it on my corkboard with the one you sent last year.”

She managed a tense smile. “Sorry about that. I was just really busy.”

She had been very busy. Every single day, she’d been up by five in the morning. They’d had morning mass and evening mass. They’d had “sharing circles” which were actually hellacious groups in which the “group leaders” would expose the reason why everyone had been sent there, and people would take turns to berate each other, under the guise of peer support.

Then there had been the isolation room, in which the only materials available to engage with for days on end – unsure of how many, because there was no clocks in there, or windows – were specified to each person’s specific moral failing. Rose’s had, naturally, all been about the evils of homosexuality. And then she’d have to write papers about it. When her work was good enough, acceptable enough, authentic enough, she’d earn her way out.

The “therapists” that Rose could not believe were licensed doctors, because their daily sessions revolved around humiliation.

Rose had, after the first week, figured out what she’d needed to do.

Her father had said that when she’d be allowed to come home depended on her, which meant she needed to work the system. And she’d seen what happened to the other kids there that tried to fight against it.

She hadn’t fought it – she’d diligently attended every “therapy” session, every “group”, every mass. She’d taken her time in isolation like a champion, she’d written all of her essays on why it was wrong to be queer, and how she could change, how to do better – and she’d still been treated to the same sleep and food deprivation and those disgusting, nausea-inducing pills to keep them on-edge.

For the last month, she’d been the model attendee of Circle of Mercy. She’d clawed her way back home, minute by minute.

Nathan nodded, his eyes alight with excitement. “I bet. Your mom told mine that your aunt was taking you to these cool soccer intensives, too. That’s fucking awesome.”

She felt sick to her stomach – both at the egregious difference between the story her parents had peddled and the truth, and at how… how embarrassed she was. At how truly shameful the truth was – but all she did was shrug, imperiously. “Yeah, it was. How was your summer?” She turned on him.

“Eh, it was whatever. The trip we took to the Hamptons kinda sucked without you. It was just me and all four of our parents.” He pulled a face, forcing a shudder.

“A nightmare,” she deadpanned, her insides twisting as she managed to keep a scoff out of her voice. Sure. Summer in the Hamptons… a nightmare.

“That’s what I’m saying.” He snapped his fingers, eyebrows lifting high on his forehead. “Oh! Also wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about Tessa.”

She felt those words hit her like a soccer ball to the face, her breath stolen from her lungs. Tessa. She’d done her very best not to think about her for months.

Because… what was the use?

The only thing Rose needed to prioritize this summer, the only thing she’d needed to focus on, was whatever made her the best disciple of Circle of Mercy that had ever walked the grounds of the rural campus.

Tessa was one-hundred percent antithetical to that goal.

She hadn’t even allowed herself to go there in her mind on the plane ride back to Boston earlier, because… she just couldn’t. She couldn’t even think about facing Tessa without feeling sick and lightheaded.

“What about Tessa?” She asked, very proud of herself for the dismissive tone she’d summoned.

She’d learned a lot at Circle of Mercy, really. Being able to push down the bad thoughts and feelings, to put a mask of them – she was now a fucking professional.

Nathan’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a long moment before smoothing out in some sort of understanding. “Ohhhhhh, because you didn’t have your phone! Sorry to be the one to have to tell you, but she left. Transferred out of here over the summer. I know you two kinda became besties last year.”

It was a strange sensation, the way her stomach dropped, even as she felt like she was able to breathe a little easier. She hated finding this out as much as she loved it. It made her want to push at something, to cry, but also to celebrate.

Outwardly, she did nothing. Not even curling her fists. All she did was arch Nathan an eyebrow, before she shrugged. “Oh, well. I mean, I’ll miss her on the team. She was a great goalie. But, other than that…”

She shrugged again. She ached inside but also felt so relieved.

It was genuinely for the best that Tessa was gone. Because Rose didn’t know if she could even look at her, after the spiral of events since the last time she’d seen her. She didn’t feel that warm, tingling feeling inside when she pictured Tessa’s face, anymore.

It was messy and complicated inside, now, and too much. Far too much.

If Tessa had remained here at Elliston, they wouldn’t be able to be friends, let alone anything more. Rose wouldn’t – couldn’t – risk that. Nothing, not even those fluttery feelings for Tessa, was worth the possibility of going back to Circle of Mercy.

Nathan frowned at her, clearly confused. “Oh. I guess I just thought you two were closer than you were?” He shrugged at himself, not digging any deeper than that. “Hey, you want to grab dinner? You can tell me about Marseille?”

“I can’t. I just landed, and I want to get to my room and get ready for tomorrow.”

She wanted to hide away, mostly. To experience true privacy for the first time in months, because at Circle of Mercy, they’d all slept in a wide-open room that never even had the lights completely turned off. No secrets. No hiding anything. No private conversations could be whispered in the darkness, if there were no walls and no darkness.

“Sounds good,” Nathan accepted. “I’m going to collect on you telling me about France sometime soon, though.”

“Deal,” she agreed, breezily.

He nodded, giving her that big, goofy – goofy to her, anyway. Maybe it would be charming? If she liked boys? – lovable smile. “I’m really happy you’re home. I was worried you’d miss the start of the year!”

She had been, too.

Outwardly, she rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, right.”

But she returned his smile. Her own was a lot smaller, far less open. But it was the first time she’d felt any sort of lightness since June, so she did her best to lean into it.

“Nathan?” She said, clearing her throat when he turned to go toward the dining hall. “Just so you know, you’re my bestie.”

She grimaced at the term, but it had been Nathan’s reference to Tessa, so…

He absolutely beamed, and Rose willed herself so hard to try to feel – something. She willed her heart to skip a beat or her stomach to flutter even slightly. It didn’t. But she meant what she’d said; he was her best friend, and right now, that meant more to her than anything else.

“You’re mine, too,” he reciprocated.

“Tell that to all of your laxbros,” she dryly shot back.

“They already know,” he assured her, sincerely.

And… yeah. Her life would be a whole lot easier if she could just feel something for him.

***

The only reason Rose was cutting it so close to getting to class on time on the first day was because she’d had to go to the main office first thing, because she’d had to sign her official documents agreeing to be a proctor.

Normally, those documents would have been signed over the summer, when she’d have officially agreed to the position.

She’d been shocked when she’d gotten up to the dorms last night and realized that she wasn’t in her old room, but was instead in the proctor room. Being a proctor was a sign of trust. It was something that was awarded, something that said that the administration recognized not only your academic success and responsibility, but also your contributions and worth as an overall resident student. 

Rose could say, with confidence, that Elliston had never bestowed proctorship to someone that had just spent the summer at a religious camp because of depraved behavior.

She’d realized within minutes that she’d been made a proctor not as a reward, but as a way for her behavior to be even more closely monitored. Proctors were held to high standards, and all of the faculty were aware of that.

Rose now would have extra duties in terms of looking after the residence hall, and reporting regularly to Ms. Hutton, the dorm supervisor.

So… yeah. That made perfect sense.

And she knew she was in no position to turn it down. Not only because she was in no way willing to make any waves after only just returning from Circle of Mercy, but also because it would look incredibly odd. People would start asking questions, and that was the last thing either herself or her father would want.

She scribbled her signature on one of the final papers with a flourish.

“Of course, I wasn’t surprised in the least when we were processing your paperwork over the summer!” Mrs. Mills espoused to her, sweetly.

Mrs. Mills had been at the top of the administrative food chain since Rose could remember, and even though she ran the main office like a military general, she was always incredibly kind.

“Thanks,” Rose murmured back, flicking her gaze to the clock on the wall.

First period was going to start relatively shortly, and she still had to get to her English class.

Mrs. Mills didn’t seem to share her concern about the time. “You know, we gave gift cards to the other proctors this summer. To an amusement part! They were summer passes, though, so I don’t have one for you.”

Rose quickly flipped to the last document. “That’s fine. I appreciate the thought.”

“No, no,” Mrs. Mills wagged her finger at her. “I still made sure to get you a little gift, too.”

“Really, it’s okay, Mrs. Mills. I don’t need anything,” she assured, perfunctorily.

Even if she’d been here over the summer, she wouldn’t have agreed to take the passes to the amusement park, either. Her name was on the building; even though she was still a teenager and a student, it felt weird to accept any of the little gifts that the friendly administrators in the front office sometimes gave out to students.

Mrs. Mills tsk’d at her, before she turned and started to walk away from Rose. “It’s just in the back room. I’ll be right back.”

Rose bit at her inner cheek, glancing back up at the clock on the wall. She managed not to huff out an impatient breath.

What would be worse? Being rude to Mrs. Mills, which would make her feel awful, or being late to class? Both would likely piss off her father, but which would be worse to him?

“The uniforms are strange,” she heard someone say. A girl.

She glanced around, noting that no one else was currently near Mrs. Mills’ office, which was a little room right off from the main office. Her window was open, though, and it faced right toward the front doors.

“You look good, honey,” another woman said, someone that sounded older. Whose voice sounded warm.

Yeah, whoever this was, was definitely standing outside.

“It’s not that,” the first girl said. “It’s like… why can’t we just wear normal clothing?”

Rose’s lips curled into a disdainful frown.

Why can’t we just wear normal clothing? Her inner-voice mocked.

As if the uniforms they were wearing weren’t “normal” clothing.

Rose had news for whoever this girl was: try going to Circle of Mercy and being forced to wear their stiff, itchy clothing, where the only skin you were allowed to show was your face, hands, and ankles.

Her Elliston uniform felt absolutely fantastic, especially in comparison.

And… who was that? It was clearly a new student, but she didn’t sound like she was the same age as most newly enrolled students. Sure, they had transfers here and there, but most people that attended Elliston had been enrolled since twelve or younger.

And most transfers were coming from other private schools – schools that also wore uniforms.

Unable to help herself, especially because Mrs. Mills was still not back, she walked over toward the window, glancing out. At the very least, it gave her a distraction after the first bell rang.

She officially had fewer than ten minutes to get to her first class. But Rose knew Elliston like the back of her hand, so she had another couple minutes to spare.

She narrowed her eyes when she saw the group of three women standing several feet away. The culprits.

The older two women – a blonde and a brunette – stood close to one another, leaning into each other, and their attention was focused on the girl in the Elliston uniform.

She had blonde hair that fell down past her shoulders, and the morning sun shined down on her, making it almost look like she had a halo. And then she laughed, a full-bodied, uninhibited sound that echoed through the air, prickling sharply at Rose’s ears.

The sound buzzed right down her spine with a weird shiver, and then – as she was still chuckling – the girl turned and…

And Rose’s breath caught in her throat, her stomach fluttering.

Which, in turn, made her feel sick to her stomach. No.

“It’s kind of crazy that this is a boarding school. Like, a lot of these other guys barely see their parents,” the girl commented, and –

Who the fuck was this girl?

Who. Was. She.

And what right did she have to step foot on Elliston’s campus, trashing their uniforms and the other students? Rose included.

And what right did she have to be so stupidly pretty? She narrowed her eyes into irritated slits, glaring at her as she pursed her lips.

She turned her attention away from that girl and instead looked at the women with her.

This time, she really looked at them. At first, she’d simply dismissed them as family members – like, the blonde was the girl’s mom, and the brunette was her aunt or something.

But… but as she studied them with a closer, critical eye, a terrifying realization started creeping in on her.

They looked nothing alike, first of all. Like, in any way.

And the way they stood so close… it was… it was intimate. Not inappropriate, but so close. Like they were constantly breathing one another in, and then the brunette reached up without a second thought, and softly brushed a lock of the blonde’s hair behind her ear, and –

Rose was going to vomit. Like, actually, she thought she might. Her breathing started to come faster, and she had to swallow, hard.

She was going to – she didn’t – she needed –

Who were these people?!

Why were they at her school? Her home?!

Was this a – a test? Had her father arranged for this, so he could see her reaction? Was this all some sort of grand plan?

No, her father would never invite gay people to be all overtly gay outside of Elliston. Never.

Her heart hammered in her chest so hard, it made her feel dizzy, and she felt weirdly sweaty. Panicky.

Why was this happening to her? Why?

Had the summer at Circle of Mercy, denouncing not only homosexuality for herself but denouncing the very idea of it, not been enough? Had the universe not punished her enough for her actions?

Rose hadn’t really known if she’d believed in a God or not, before this summer. But if Circle of Mercy – and now this – had taught her anything, it was that “God” wasn’t real.

The world was just shitty and awful, and there was no reason.

And all she could do was try to get through it in one piece.

“Here you go! I’m sorry I’m running a little late,” Mrs. Mills returned.

Rose blinked back at her, registering the iced coffee in her hand. And for several long seconds, she hadn’t remembered what she’d been doing in here in the first place.

Mrs. Mills frowned at her, concern etching onto her face. “Miss Elliston, are you all right? You look very pale.”

“I’m fine,” she bit back, far too sharply. But she couldn’t care too much about that, now.

Mrs. Mills eyed her, curiously. “Why are you at the window, if not for a need of fresh air?”

Fuck. Why? WHY?

“I…” She rolled her shoulders back and jutted out her chin. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Not today. Not in months. “I just heard people talking outside.”

Wait – Mrs. Mills knew all of the new students.

“A blonde girl, and t-two women,” she caught and forcibly stopped her slight stumble, but her tone was intense. She could hear it, but not stop it.

She needed to know.

Mrs. Mills nodded, clearly knowing precisely to whom she was referring. “Ah, yes. That would be Abigail Dalton – she’s the new recruit for the soccer team; a goalkeeper. She seems very sweet.” Mrs. Mills lowered her voice slightly, whispering conspiratorially, “She’s from a local public school.”

The new goalkeeper.

Fuck Rose’s entire life.

This stupid girl and her halo hair and her seemingly gay moms – and she was going to be on the team?! She was taking Tessa’s spot?!

Rose felt the tension lace through her entire body, vibrating with it. “I have to go,” she stated, curtly. “I’m going to be late to class.”

Mrs. Mills nodded, before she offered the iced coffee in her hand. “Make sure you take this! A little celebratory token from us here in the office.”

She didn’t have the time or mental energy to argue against taking it. All of her energy, everything she had inside of her, was focused on Abigail Dalton.

All she could hear in her ears was the rushing of blood thrumming through her veins, feeling so jumbled inside. And, in turn, feeling fucking livid.

Hadn’t she been through enough?

She froze as soon as she entered into the main hall, because the girl was standing right there. Only a few feet in front of her, standing absolutely still, looking around in confusion.

Rose hadn’t even noticed that dirty soccer ball she had tucked under her arm, and it only made her disdain grow. What kind of fool carried around a dirty soccer ball? Was that how things worked in public school? After all, her parents had told her enough about public schools over the years to paint a vivid picture. Did Abigail Dalton not realize that they’d provide soccer balls at practice?

Fucking hell.

There was no way this girl was going to be able to keep up. She was going to invade Rose’s team – the place where she felt happiest, calmest, where she could shut off her brain and just… do what she loved to do – and ruin that, too?

Huh… maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, Rose thought, wildly. Desperately.

If Abigail Dalton couldn’t keep up, wasn’t Red Fox material, maybe they could send her back, then. Return her, like the lemon law.

And then she and her beautiful blonde hair and her – her gay moms would be gone, out of Rose’s life.

She had to hope for that. Had to.

Because otherwise, it wasn’t fair to her. She’d already been dealt such an unfair, awful hand – throwing in this girl whose face made Rose’s heart skip a beat, who appeared to have gay parents… life couldn’t be so cruel to her. Right?

It burned her up inside.

She’d just managed to claw her way back from Circle of Mercy, and now this was dropped in her fucking lap.

Feeling that anger, this raging inside of her at how unjust this was, she barely even registered reaching out and knocking that nasty ball out from where it was tucked into Abigail’s arm as she sailed by her.

And even as the ball bounced down the hallway, it didn’t give Rose a sense of satisfaction she’d been hoping for. It offered no reprieve.

She knocked her shoulder into Abigail’s as she passed by, unintentionally inhaling as she did so –

Big. Mistake.

Because how did a person smell like sunshine? How?

It only served to make her even more pissed off.

“Hey! What the hell was that for?” Abigail shouted at her back, and…

Huh. Okay, so apparently Miss Sunshine had some fire in her, because she sounded enraged.

And something about that picked at Rose, gripping her. Driving her to stop, and turn to face Abigial head-on, for the first time.

God.

No.

Why?

Up close, she was even more beautiful. Unfairly so. With a kind of underlying sweet look to her that made Rose’s heart flutter. With blue eyes that were so startingly clear and electric, in a way Rose had never seen on someone in real life, before.

Which, in turn, made her feel even more tense.

And even more incensed, and she frowned so deeply, it made her face ache.

“Oh, crap,” she snapped in mocking apology. “I didn’t think you actually wanted to be holding onto your dirty soccer ball. So sorry, Lemon.”

Those bright blue eyes burned back at her, and her stomach flip-flopped, and…

She couldn’t handle this.

All she could hope for, desperately, was that Abigail Dalton had such a horrible time here at Elliston, that she’d opt to run away and never look back.

Because between the two of them, Rose didn’t have that option.

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