CHAPTER 1: SANTA CLAUS

ADELINE

I stare down at the huge red F at the top right corner of my test sheet and dread pulls me into its icy waters, drowning me in it till I’m utterly frozen. 

“Just because you stare at it like that doesn’t mean the grade’s going to change, Addie.” 

It takes Cassidy’s snide remark to break the ice around me. Cassidy is my roommate; has been since the 10th grade when I moved out of my mother’s home in downtown Chicago and into the school’s dorm.

 My mother spent a shit-ton of money to get me a space here and it hadn’t mattered much to me then; after all, I was on a scholarship program and the school covered all of my tuition expenses. It was the least she could do to support me. 

I’d lied to her about the reasons I didn’t want to live with her anymore; told her I needed to stay close to school to practice better, to hone my Cello playing skills when in truth, I just got sick of coming home everyday from school to her and her lovers sucking faces. It pained her to do so but she let me go anyway. 

Now, all I have to show for it is an F the size of my middle finger and a teacher’s note saying the chances of getting admitted to the college of my choice are slimmer than the strings on my Cello. 

Really, that is exactly what the note says and I can’t tell if Mr Preston, the music performance teacher is trying to be funny or I’m truly doomed.

Cassidy doesn’t say anything for a while and just continues to shove some items into a bag. Her side of the dorm room is a mess of clothes, shoes, books and science stuff that belongs wholly to her. She’s packing for the summer break—our final one as both eleventh graders and high schoolers. 

I should be packing too; My mother will be here any minute, to pick me up. Packing for a school break has always elicited reluctance from me but it’s stronger this time because it isn’t just about having to witness my mother’s very active and gross sex life for an entire summer; it’s also about the dreadful knowledge that I had only one summer. One summer to get my grades back up or my dream of becoming the best Cellist the world has ever seen will remain just that—a dream. 

I sigh, falling back onto my bed. The light bulb hanging down from our ceiling flickers bleakly, like my future. 

“You okay?” Cassidy asks, pushing her thickly rimmed glasses up her nose. She’s already stopped packing and is now hovering above me, hands on her waist. 

“What do you think?” I try not to snap at her but I can’t help it. I went from being a child prodigy who started playing the Cello at age five to an eighteen year old teenager that can’t even play a single note without faltering. 

Cassidy calls it a slump. She says scientists have it too. She says it like it’s some flu that just goes away once you get enough rest. This is worse than the flu. I’ve had it since the beginning of the school year and it has cost me more than just the significant drop in my grades. 

Like the chance to be discussed in the same manner as Nora Sullivan, the most popular girl in Nexus Arts and Sciences High and undoubtedly the best student in the Arts section of the school;three fucking years in a row. Nora Sullivan has everything: beauty, brains and a Cello playing skill that shames whatever achievement I have had since I first laid my fingers on that instrument. 

She’s the literal Queen Bee of the school, the poster girl for talent—literally. Her face is the only thing that keeps the school’s brochures and flyers from being plain ass ugly and boring to go through. Nora doesn’t only have boys falling at her feet but also multiple Colleges, lining up their offers and hoping to recruit the best talent to ever grace a high school. It’s no surprise that she got picked over me to go on a tour with a famous classical band across Europe. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I admire Nora like everyone else. I am in what I call a long distance competition with her but as it seems, I can’t even be called a competition anymore. Not when my grades are hanging by a loose thread. 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Remember, summer break lasts three months. You just have to practice harder. No distractions and more importantly, no boys.” 

“Gee, thanks, mum.” My voice drips with sarcasm at the stark reminder of my fate. There goes my hope of getting a boyfriend this summer. 

Cassidy escapes getting hit in the face by my pillow and flashes me a cheeky smile before returning to packing her bags. Seeing as I can’t wallow in my misery forever, I stand and begin packing too. A red fancy paper bag catches my eyes from where it sits on my reading table. It’s design screams Christmas. 

“What’s that?” I ask. Cassidy glances at me and then the bag.

“Oh, that? I found it by the door when I got back from class. It’s addressed to you so I brought it in.” 

It’s odd that I am receiving a Christmas present in June. Odd that I’m even receiving any present at all. 

I grab the bag that has a small note hanging loosely by its strap. It reads: To Adeline, with love. The red bag comes as a splash of color in my currently black and white life so I open it in earnest. Biggest mistake of my entire life. 

My scream rents the room at the same time the paper bag slips out of my hands and drops to the ground. My body shudders with shock as I stare down at my feet where the mangled corpse of an unidentified animal lies inside the paper bag. It takes just a second for my shock to morph into rage once I recognize the animal that was wrapped perfectly like a Christmas present for me to unwrap.

I also know who brought it to my doorstep and I fly to my feet the moment his annoying face takes root in my mind. 

“Addie, don’t.” Cassidy knows it too because she tries to stop me from leaving the dorm room. 

“No, I’m not letting him off today.”  I am already at the door, my mind clouded with the desire to unleash all of my pent-up rage on someone who deserves it. 

“Addie, let it go. We’re going home anyway and you won’t see him for another three months.” 

Her attempt to stop me proves futile once more because I don’t make a move to back away from the door; and even when I do, it’s to grab the paper bag off the floor so I can leave the room with it.

“Exactly. I won’t be seeing that fucker for the whole summer. That’s three months of my last memory in school being a dead rat in a Christmas bag. He’s tortured me all year and if he thinks he’s going to spend his summer break in peace, then he better think again!” 

I storm off after that, clutching the paper bag tightly and slamming the door so hard the sound of it echoes throughout the corridor of the dormitory. 

The school’s dormitories are the biggest facilities within the school and it takes approximately five minutes to get to the Male dormitory where I know my Santa Claus is at.  

By the door of his dorm room, famous philanderer and second in command to the devil himself: Jackson Connor, has his tongue deep down the throat of a blondie still in the school’s brown and red striped uniform. Fighting the urge to gag, I zip past them and the forceful yanking of the door open is what catches his attention.

“What the he—”  Jackson attempts to stop me but it’s too late, I am already in the dorm room and why am I not surprised to find this bastard on top of a girl?

The lights in the room are a light shade of red used along with the soft jazz music playing from a Bluetooth speaker to set the mood which I am just in time to ruin. Despite the cover up, I can still hear the sound of their sloppy kisses and ear-biting moans. Not to mention the vivid muscle outlines of his naked back rippling under the sensual lights. 

It’s perfect. There’s no way I’m letting this be his final memory of eleventh grade. If he’s going to remember anything at all, it’d be me shoving his head up his ass. I deflect to my right where the speaker is placed and pull the plugs on their music before reaching for the wall. White light floods the room when I flip the switch. 

Ocean blue eyes squint under the bright lights and when they finally adjust to it, they narrow into angry, irritated slits. The feeling is definitely mutual. The poor girl I’m about to traumatize hides her face in his chest, laying still underneath him. 

“Rounding up the torturous school year with a good fuck I see.”  I say with a biting tone. 

“What do you want, Caldwell?” He bites back and when he attempts to open his mouth again—probably to throw an insult at me—I beat him to it by tossing the paper bag at him.