2

Maxine

Belmont Spring. That’s the name of our town. My mom told me how it’s surrounded by thick pine woods and that when she was growing up there used to be wild wolves and an even thicker forest, but now there are more houses.

My mom has a really sharp memory for someone who hasn’t visited this place in a long time because she keeps taking the right turns and remembering the routes. The houses here are honestly a sight for sore eyes.

Big and beautiful.

There are gorgeous cottages, luxury cabins built with wood, stone and glass, and tall modern houses too. I know I’m gawking but I never really traveled much before and I definitely never lived somewhere like this.

“Woahhhh, whose house is that?” I sat up, my eyes widening at the sight of the mansion I was looking at.

It’s beautiful. Huge. Sparkly. Someone important definitely lives there.

“I don’t know, honey. The last time I was here it was just trees,” she said.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the Zillow-looking house. Then I spotted the Aston Martin and BMW parked out front.

Oh.

They are rich rich.

My mom’s car slowed down and then we took a turn into the compound of the next house.

Wait.

“We are neighbors with the beautiful house?”

“Close enough to borrow sugar,” she joked.

Great.

I got out of the car and took in the view of our house.

Not bad.

Actually a lot better than I expected if I’m being honest. It looks like my mom brushed it up a bit.

“You like it?” my mom asked, draping an arm over my shoulder as we stood in the driveway.

“Not bad,” I shrugged and she kissed my cheek.

“Three large bedrooms. Pick whichever one you want,” she said.

“Which one is the biggest?” I asked immediately.

“The one upstairs.”

“I’ll take that.”

I helped my mom bring our bags inside and then she helped me drag mine upstairs.

She’s right. The room is large and it has a huge window that looks directly toward the neighbor’s house too.

I walked over to the window and pulled the blinds apart before pushing the windows open.

The strong smell of pine and autumn leaves filled my nostrils.

Hmm.

Very different from London but I can adapt.

The blinds on the window in my neighbor’s house suddenly opened as well. It’s a tall floor-to-ceiling window but I choked on my spit when I see who’s standing behind it.

One of the boys I met at the airport.

The one with the white irises and glasses.

He stared at me long enough to make me uncomfortable.

I felt chill that had nothing to do with the wind and immediately slammed my windows shut again.

They are my super rich neighbors?

Can today get any worse?

I flinched when the intercom in my room suddenly sounded.

“Max, it’s me, Mom. I installed an intercom so I wouldn’t have to yell my vocal cords off trying to get to you like my mom did when I was younger,” she said proudly.

I shook my head.

Great idea though, to be fair.

“Guess who is here?” my mom teased and my eyes widened.

I didn’t even have to think.

Aunt Margery.

My mom’s best friend.

I love her so much.

I burst out of my room and ran downstairs, running straight into her arms.

“Max!” she laughed, catching me and spinning me around. “How are you? I’m so glad to have you here. You’re going to have a great time in Belmont Spring.”

“I really hope so,” I said.

“Look, I brought your school things. The uniforms, forms and every other thing. You just have to go see the principal on Monday, finalize the paperwork and resume classes.”

“They were stunned by my amazing grades, weren’t they?” I asked sarcastically.

I’m not a genius or anything but I don’t play with my distinctions because if possible I want to get into an Ivy League college.

I went to the box of my school things and started going through it.

I have to wear a uniform.

Gross.

I’ve never worn a uniform before. I just hope it’s pretty.

The box it came in is even fancy. Navy blue and wrapped with a ribbon.

When I opened it, the first thing I saw was a pamphlet with photos of the school.

It’s huge.

It honestly looks like a college building instead of a high school.

I said a silent prayer for myself to find friends easily and hopefully none of them get killed and shoved between shelves in the library.

Private school murder mysteries would definitely be a lot messier.

I moved on to check the uniform.

It’s actually kind of nice. A fine blend of midnight blue, cream, white and red. The badge of the school is on the breast of the blazer.

D.R.Y — Daphne Ray Yard.

Weird name.

There’s another book that looks like an instruction manual or rule book. I flipped through it as well.

As much as private schools try to seem strict, sometimes they’re just schools built to rub the egos of rich spoiled kids.

Not me.

I may be spoiled but I’m certainly not rich and I’m definitely not on their level.

I’m worried I might have trouble blending in.

I’m too rich for the poor kids and not rich enough for the rich ones.

“Mom, can I start school on Monday? I’m too tired tomorrow and I definitely cannot resume the term on a Thursday.”

“Sure, whatever works for you,” my mom said.

I took my things upstairs afterward and started setting up my room until it looked the way I wanted.

Then I went to take a shower.

I kept convincing myself that I wasn’t thinking about the Alvin and the Chipmunks trio I met at the airport.

But I knew I was.

I’m just struggling to understand how teenage boys—or anyone at all—could look that majestic and hot.

They seemed so intimidating and ridiculously confident.

It even makes me feel like being their neighbor is some kind of privilege even though technically my house was here first.

I was really hungry and wanted to go downstairs for lunch.

Instead, I ended up falling asleep.

Dreaming about my airport Greek gods.