Brothers of Paradise Series

“The Marchands. It’s a perk of the job.”

I run my hand over the pressed pants. They scream of money, of expensive fabric and high expectations. I have no idea what schools like this cost, but it has to be more than Gary makes. “That’s quite a perk.”

He reaches over and runs a hand through my hair, mussing it up.

“Stop.” I pat it down so it falls over my forehead.

“This’ll be good for us.”

“Sure.”

“All the Marchand kids go to that school. You can carpool in the morning.”

Right.

The Marchand kids.

There was Henry, the tallest and most self-important of the group. He’d reached over and shook my hand, as if he was an adult and not a fourteen-year-old with a cracking voice.

Rhys didn’t say much of anything, actually, but he’d looked me over from top to toe like he suspected me of carrying some foreign disease.

The blond boy my age, Parker, asked if I wanted to play lacrosse on the back lawn some time. I had said no. Lacrosse sounds awful.

There is an entire world between them and me, and no way to bridge it. I’m not even going to try. We sure as hell won’t be staying in Paradise Shores with their wrap-around porches and expensive preparatory schools long enough for me to get to know these kids.

“When?”

“They leave by seven thirty tomorrow. I spoke to Mrs. Marchand, and she’ll make sure there’s a spot for you.” Gary gives me an unusually serious look. “Be good in school.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, looking away. Be good. That was always the advice, everywhere we went. But it’s hard to act good when you don’t feel like you’re particularly good. Not that the youngest Marchand seemed to care about that at all.

Lily had looked at me with such curiosity that I felt like asking her if she wanted to take a picture instead. She’s kind, though. Better than her stupid brothers, even if she definitely asks too many questions.

She’s pretty brave, too. I’d seen her grab a live lobster by the tail and not flinch once as she tied its claws, saying that her father had taught her that. She had shown me her favorite climbing tree just a few days before. It was pretty tall, even if she was too old to climb trees. Lily hadn’t liked it when I said that. Her hair had been a fiery halo around her head, her freckled face contorted in a frown. What do you know? she’d hissed back at me. You’re probably just afraid of heights!

I had to climb the tree to show that I wasn’t, of course. If Lily noticed that my hands were shaking a bit when I came back down, she hadn’t mentioned it. Heights really weren’t my favorite thing.

But still. Lily is nice enough, for a Paradise Shores brat.

Lily, 13Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Hayden reaches out. “Hand me the bucket.”

I give it to him, making sure that none of the saltwater tips out. “Did you find one?”

“No, but that is getting heavy by now.”

“I can carry it.”

“I know you can.” Hayden shoots me a pointed look. “But just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.”

I roll my eyes at the clear innuendo in his words. “Not from you, too!”

Hayden shakes his head so that the dark locks fly and reaches down in the shallows. The tide is out, and there’s no better time to go mussel picking.

“I won’t. But at least tell me what you were actually trying to do.”

“I’ve already had this discussion with Rhys.”

“So have it again, with me.”

The water is cool against my ankles, soft wave after wave lapping against our legs. I haven’t seen Hayden in weeks, not since we left for our summer vacation to Europe, and this is what he wanted to discuss?

“How did you even find out?”

He shoots me another look. This time, his amber eyes are telling. Do you even need to ask?

“Parker should keep his mouth shut,” I grumble.

Hayden’s lip curls. “You’re stalling.”

“What have you heard exactly?”

“You got in a fight.”

I sigh. “It was so stupid. I was just trying to defend Henry.”

“I don’t think he needs defending.”

“Well, he did. One of our cousins said something… something stupid. And he had been annoying the entire week, stealing my pens and hiding them so I couldn’t draw, mocking me about my hair.”

Hayden’s eyes steal up to my braid. “Your hair?”

“Yeah. He said some stupid things about gingers. We’re not even that redhaired-Mom calls it auburn!”

“Idiot.”

“Exactly. So I punched him.”

Hayden’s grin is savage. “Nice, Lils.”

“Well, I thought so too. He deserved it. But I got in a lot of trouble.”

“I heard,” Hayden says, still grinning. He looks a bit wild, like he did when I saw him the first time, with too long hair and a too big T-shirt. Like he’s actually from some other place, where rules don’t apply to him. “Was it worth it?”

I think about it for a moment. “Yes. But it hurt like hell.”

Hayden sets the bucket down carefully, making sure to anchor it between two rocks. “Show me.”