SACRED (The Kingwood Series Book 3) by Scott S.L

Author:Scott, S.L. [Scott, S.L.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781940071602
Publisher: S.L. SCOTT
Published: 2017-10-26T04:00:00+00:00

17

Clara

Baynard Preparatory. Top ten prep school in America, rivaling most colleges with the education provided and the résumé of the professors. I’ve only been student teaching a couple months, but long enough to know that this is the future elite, or elitist, depending on my mood, of America. There is no middle ground when it comes to the students here.

Each one will find success in the field they choose to pursue, or they’ll rest on their ancestral connections.

I never noticed the obvious while on campus. I wasn’t paying enough attention before, and the name never meant anything other than the last name of the woman whose opinion does matter. Beatrice Cristley is not only a generous benefactor to the school, but the name is everywhere—Cristley Hall, Cristley Foundation, The Cristley Scholarship. All accredited to Cruise’s mother, and three generations of Cristleys who attended the school prior.

Kingwood and Cristley, two of the most prestigious surnames to have when walking on these hallowed grounds. It’s kind of ironic considering Cruise said he and his friend were too busy rebelling to appreciate the legacy embedded in the history of this school.

I beat forty-five other candidates for this position. I don’t know what won them over, but it feels a lot like charity by the way the staff and students look at me. Sometimes I’m even on the receiving end of a condescending comment in reference to my suburban upbringing.

Who knew that, to them, the middle class equals needing a hand up by the wealthy? I ignore it while inwardly rolling my eyes and trying not to judge these well-to-do rich kids the way they judge me.

With my sandwich sitting on a piece of wax paper in front of me and my Diet Coke almost empty, I check the time. Seven minutes of freedom before the students return from lunch.

My finger has been hovering over the enter key for a good sixty seconds, John Cristley Jr. taking up the search box on the screen. I haven’t pushed the button, but when I do, the records populate the screen.

Every grade he ever received.

Every tardy.

Every mark.

Every absence.

Every time Cruise was called into the office is in this file. I should feel guilty looking up his school record, but I don’t. I feel closer to him. I also feel a sense of pride for the man that has come into my life like a hurricane and swept me right off my feet.

I study his grades.

B.

Only one.

Ever.

Cruise made a B in Advanced Trigonometry his sophomore year. For a rebel bucking the system he was bred into, he sure didn’t bother to hide how intelligent he was. Giggling, I shake my head. He’s a true mystery of a man.

The bell rings and I close my laptop. With my hours clocked for the day, it’s time to pack up and head to campus for class. I cross the grounds and turn the corner to the staff parking lot, and then stop in my tracks.

Black leather jacket.

Sleek black helmet.

A motorcycle of shiny chrome and slick black detailing.

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