Trespassing

Ava's POV

Kill me. Please, it would be kinder then… then sending me off to a God-awful school like this. My insides were squirming just as I stood there at the open iron gates. Where was the sign saying: Abandon all hope thy' who enter here? Yes, I was comparing this snob-filled school to hell in Dante's Inferno. Could you blame me? I was perfectly fine in my old school, sure I was faking every moment of my existence but at least the people didn't stare down at me like they were the king's and queen's of the Universe. My parents sent me to a snake-infested environment. They had officially forgotten I was Ava, not Mia. How didn't they get my name wrong when they called for me? No idea, but I wouldn't be surprised if they called me Mia one day.

About two months ago my parents asked me what I thought about private schools but I would never have guessed they'd do this. I could hear my Mother saying that they had a huge surprise for me. I never expected it to be a new high school. Unfortunately for me, my Father was friends with the dean here. Since my grades were less than pleasing they chatted about the possibility of me transferring here. Guess what? Here I was. Pop the champagne!

Before taking my final step inside, my eyes marveled the entrance's elegant design. Frankly, it looked more like a monument than a school, with copies of the Greek columns and all that. I walked in keeping a confident stride ignoring the fact that I was wearing a navy uniform. It was completely degrading, like being in prison only instead of wearing orange jumpsuits I had a navy skirt, a navy coat, a white shirt and shoes I thought only my grandmother used in her school days—oh, and I couldn't forget about the emblems on the jackets. I shook my hair about. I knew no one in this place, had I been given a choice I wouldn't have changed schools, putting up with Marcy wasn't half this bad. I couldn't believe she actually felt jealousy because I transferred to St. Joseph—even the name was pretentious. I glanced down at my dark stockings to see if they were place. I was walking without any restraints, without being spotted and gossiped about because the bell had ringed fifteen minutes ago. Of course I'd been on time, I just spent a lot of time in my car thinking about making a run for it. I'd been here yesterday, in the afternoon, with my Father and the dean. He gave us a tour, my new schedule and informed me the only sports for girls in the school were either Field Hockey or Swimming.

I knocked lightly hoping twice was enough and opened the door. Students lined the homeroom all wearing the same outfit as me; boys were wearing pants, though. It would've been funny to see them wearing skirts; with that in mind I swallowed a chuckle. Ignoring the wide-eyed stares that were quickly morphing into other things, like little smiles or giggles, I faced the man in the front. He was short barely reaching above my chest, young and thin, too thin for his height and age. I cleared my throat walking up to him, giving him a paper the dean handed me.

"Class, this is Ms. Wellington she'll be joining us from now on." He said reading through the paper, his eyes finally turned to me as he returned it. "I hope you'll be in time from now on?"

"Yes sir," I agreed knowing this was my fate.

"Is there something you'd like to tell your class mates?" Was he serious?

"Not really," I flashed a smile that I reserved for the cameras all around, though. I was ready to start the charade. "Can I sit down?" I asked flipping my hair back.

My new English teacher nodded with a little glazed glint in his eye. Oh man. I hurried down the rows walking until I was at the very back. A girl snorted when I passed her, my smile was incredibly sweetened-up then. She rolled her eyes with disdain turning to front. Well, she was going to be fun. Placing my things on a vacant desk I looked up thinking I saw... a pair of stunning blue orbs. My hand was taken over by pins and needles, becoming dormant—thump. That could be my heart beating with full horse power or the noise my notebook made upon hitting the floor. It was lost to me how long I contemplated his eyes, the edges of his cheeks… No, no, no, no, no—did I stutter? I think not. This could not be true, this wasn't, I was sleeping—having a nightmare and I was going to wake right about… I blinked… now. Nope, he was still there. No, I chanted over one more time, Thomas Harrington is not in my new school. He is not. Ooh, but he was. That wolfish smirk his hand attempted to cover up couldn't be sported by any other guy with honey hair and blue eyes, unless he had a clone. Despite the grin I could see confusion breaking through; he probably thought I was a stalker.

Aware I was just standing there, I crouched down so my skirt wouldn't lift, and picked up my notebook seating myself. Changing schools wasn't frustrating enough, no. I had to transfer into the same school as Trip. How could this even happen? Was I that bad of a person to put up with all this hellish torture? There was no divine answer and if I ever expected one, I could very well wait for it sitting so I wouldn't get tired. My fingers pushed some hair to my face; I knew who was going to love knowing this. Ms. Coleman would throw a celebration party now that we couldn't avoid each other. I barely recognized the boy sitting beside Trip. I'd only seen him once at the movies and under very bad lighting. I hadn't been able to stick through the whole movie because I felt bad and conflicted. He sure knew who I was, though it might have been because Thomas whispered something to him. Either way, Finn smiled discretely before turning to the teacher.

During class I did my best not to sulk. I had to look radiant, too bad I felt crappy. I hadn't slept more than four hours thinking how this first day was going to go. My nerves were double edgy now. Towards the end of class I'd pushed all of my hair forward trying to gain some privacy behind it. It was the only console I had and I kept wishing it was longer. I wasn't caught up in the book they were analyzing; my teacher had chosen Pride and Prejudice. Paradise Lost, I thought, the name called out my attention greatly and given the situation I have been living for the last two years I'd say my paradise had been lost. Speaking of paradise, I hadn't been to my blog in a long, long time. Thomas had taken up my time completely, not only when we were together. Ever since that night at the theater I'd been meaning to pick up the phone and apologize, not only for lying, for judging him for his cover. It was like picking up a book, hating its outside and put it down without so much as reading the first page… each time I thought about doing it, my stomach complained, my lips felt dry. If someone had pride it was me. Why couldn't I admit I was wrong?

A shadow was cast on me as I gathered my things to leave.

"You just can't stay away, can you?" I stared at Trip's face, hating how he towered over me. He was still taller when I stood, but at least then, it was only five inches.

My chair got pushed a great deal as I got up.

"Please, I didn't even know you went here." I slung my bag over my shoulder.

Thomas placed the chair in its place; it had been the only thing standing between us. He took a step forward leaning on the table. I saw how he side-glanced the whole room, it must have been empty because his eyes returned in a flash.

"Yet, here you are."

"Against my will," I scoffed. "But I should've known you attended one of these private schools. It's the normal thing for people like you." I tried to say it without much malice and discrimination.

Trip's honey hair was messy-perfect as usual and as he tipped his head down, I inclined my head backward.

"You hate pricey," that was a known fact to him by now. "So why are you here? It's crawling with kids who only care about money and status—even more than usual."

"Because…" I started prepared to tell him about my parents' involvement, but then…

Thomas' eyebrows arched, he blinked simultaneously.

"What?" He whispered scrunching his face.

I huffed softly. I'd said it so quickly… of course he wouldn't get a word of it. I had sounded like a train without brakes. This was it, though. I couldn't go around with this pit of guilt—I had enough of it has it was because of Mia.

"I'm sorry…" I ground out, at least it sounded steady enough to be understood. Trip went from shocked to amused. This wasn't funny for me. "I'm sorry for lying… and doubting…" Come on, you're almost there, just a little further. "And I shouldn't have judged you because of what I read and saw—I should've given you a chance to show me who you really are, not who others make you out to be." There, I heaved a little sigh. I glimpsed down then back up.

He fixed his jaw. I wasn't going to say this again, so he better not ask me for it.

"It's fine." He said more softly than I'd expect considering the hardness of his face. "People think what they read in newspapers or in magazines is always true." His hand pushed my hair over my shoulder, I followed the gentle movement. It felt like a soft breeze. "And if I'd seen two guys walk out of your bedroom…" He paused smirking lightly. "I wouldn't think too well of you either."

That was very reasonable of him. I would probably make him work for it, a little groveling—I stumbled as the door cried out from being pushed open. Thomas' hand stabilized me by pressing into my lower back, low enough for all my blood to infest my cheeks. His fingers accidentally—at least I was going to think about it that way—brushed the space between my shirt and skirt making lighting strike my heart. We stared into each other's eyes when my hand fell to his arm.

"Hey, man?"

I didn't look away daring him to do it first. He did it. A warm fuzzy feeling melted like chocolate after my little victory.

"We're having a private conversation, Finn." I gathered my wits when Trip's arm dropped.

The slender boy drew his lips before shaking his head—

"I think we're done." I said before he left.

Thomas swung his head towards me.

"No, we're not." He whispered slightly.

"I say we are." I slit my eyes.

"No," he grasped my bag away when I reached for it. "Finn, leave." He ordered sternly.

"Don't." Finn halted the next step looking winded. "Give that back!" I reached out; Trip took a step away hiding it behind his back.

"We still have to talk about why you're here." Thomas fell on a table when the back of his legs hit the edge. It didn't stop him from escaping me. He crawled backward taking my bag.

I scowled getting up on the same table, following him. My hand outstretched, he pulled it away—when I grasped the bag's wing he pulled, I tugged.

"Huh... so I'll leave you to work out the issues. Maybe lock the door too..." I heard Finn mutter, but not even that made me realize just how bad of a picture this was.

I was now standing on my knees, one of Thomas' legs in their middle. When I finally saw him letting go I cursed feeling all my body tilt back. I was supposed to meet the floor. I didn't and again the electricity jolt made me draw into myself comfortably. A citrusy smell made all my other senses shut down. I was lulled safely in a warm place, it was hard too.

"If I didn't know better," I heard from above. "I'd say you're enjoying yourself in my arms."

I wriggled out of the warmness. It was awful how much my body recalled his from that goddamn hug. What I didn't understand was what I hated more, knowing I enjoyed it, or that I was being given comfort by Thomas. Both made my self-esteem bend to epic proportions. I needed to get online and blog real soon so I could feel some love. I hated feeling needy.

"What?" I grumbled finally able to untangle from his arms. Thomas just kept gazing at my eyes silently, like he'd made a discovery.

"Nothing…" He muttered shaking off the look. I gave a slight frown, the word 'weirdo' rising to the occasion. "Why are you here?" And we were back on track. Oh the joy.

I slid off his lap landing steady on my feet.

"My parents sent me here because my grades aren't very good." I caught a deviant grin and immediately smoothed out my skirt. It must have been riled up in the midst of our tug and war.

"You're here to get free grades, that it?"

"Isn't that why everyone's here?"

"Well, that…" Trip jumped off the table. "And it gives us an easier access to an Ivy League college." I watched as he fixed his loosened tie. "Is that the only reason?" My eyes rolled at the self-importance in his tone.

"Why else would I be here?"

"What about your boyfriend Curtis? I bet he's sad to lose sight of you."

"His name's Cole and we're not together. He saw my picture in the fashion magazine and decided to ask me out because he thought I was easy…" My words lowered with certain built up rage. Stereotyping was wrong; I'd learned my lesson… kind of.

"Why did you say 'yes' if you knew what he was doing?" Thomas slung his backpack over a narrow shoulder.

"If I didn't hate him as much as I thought I did, I could consider dating him. My Mom would set off fireworks." My foot was absently rubbing across the floor.

"Your Mom sounds familiar. A lot like mine, she only cares about status." I followed Trip's slow steps down the rows of empty chairs and desks included. "What would she think if you dated someone like me?"

My throat jammed when I was in the midst of swallowing. Trying to hide it, I coughed.

"She would…" Give me a castle on the largest tropical island she could find? Yeah, sounded about right. Thomas thought the reason I didn't want my parents—my Mom—to find out about us knowing each other, was because of his delinquent actions. "She would disown me." Maybe someday I'd tell him the truth. For now, I needed to keep to myself.

With a wag of his eyebrows he opened the door for me—then paused, closing it back, leaning on the varnished door.

"Wanna a piece of advice?"

"If I say 'no' you'll give it to me either way. Won't you?" The little glint in his eyes told me all I needed to know.

"It's better to find someone who'll change your life, not your status. Trust me on that."

Had Thomas Harrington just tried to give me relationship advice? And did agreeing with him make me crazy? I mean, this was a guy who only had one-night stands. Okay, so there had been a kind-of-a-girlfriend. I exited while he held the door. When I saw everyone walking the hall stop and stare, I cringed. Thomas walked off leaving me to fend off the wolfish glares guys were giving me, and to deal with the feline girls who wanted him. Among the garbage already flying around was the phrase, "Trip has a new shinny toy." My life was going to be perfect here, just darned-perfect.

Trip's POV

I collapsed into one of our expensive leather couches. I could hear Edward—our butler, like Ava had called him—barking orders to the cleaning ladies. Today was cleaning day, meaning I should run up to my room. It was always the first thing they cleaned so I could hide up there.

"Feet off the table, Thomas," my feet dropped from surprise.

I watched with attentive eyes as my Father walked to the arm chair matching the couch I was on. He brushed invisible dirt from his suit pants before leaning into the backrest, crossing his leg looking at me with mute eyes. The first white hairs were showing on either side of his head. I hoped mine would take as long to show as his had. Our hair colors matched nearly perfectly; the white ones would be much more noticeable on us than in my Mom since she had blond hair. His eyes differed from mine completely though, they were hazel. Blue was something me and my Mother shared—it had to be the only thing, too.

"You still remember where you live?" I remarked, forcing down the tension pulsing inside me. My Father's glares were scary. It had to be one of the few things I was actually scared of.

Without breaking the tiniest smile he said, "How's therapy been going?" Okay, he remembered he'd sent me to a shrink, not bad.

"It's been therapeutic." I half-joked doing my best to beat around the bush. "How's the bank?"

"Don't change subjects, son." My jaw moved out of nervousness. "This is the fourth specialist I've sent you—"

"It's the fifth." I corrected breezily.

"Even worse," he added frankly brushing an eyebrow thoughtfully. "You've been to many Psychologists and nothing about your behavior has improved if anything it only seems to worsen." He sighed flattering his gaze on mine. "I don't understand what's been going on with you," I dug my hands further into my pockets. "Ever since two years ago you've been acting like a maniac. I don't think I need to tell you all the wrong things you've done… Me and your Mother just want you to get better." My Father scowled at my snort. "I'm being serious, Thomas. We only want what's best for you." Maybe he did, but Mom didn't. She was the one to blame for my fucked-up life, my one-night stands and all the other things derived from it. I just wanted to forget, but it never lasted, so I went and did some more.

"I'm sure you do." I got up grabbing my book bag. "I'll be in my room doing my homework like a good-boy. I'll move my plans of burning down the house to another time since your home. I know how rare that is for you, I wouldn't want to ruin it."

I trudged up the stairs, stopped to listen for my Mom and her assistant, nothing. Good. I continued up to my room. Locking the door I threw the bag onto the couch and walked a few steps to the king-sized bed in front of it. It wasn't only my Mother's fault, it was Catherine's too. And mine. If I hadn't been an idiot they wouldn't have gotten what they wanted. But Catherine could fool anyone, she shouldn't have been a model—well, she should have been both a model and an actress. She'd been a seven-teen year old beauty that any guy, any age from fifteen and beyond would kill to have, to admire, to kiss… to love. I wasn't any different. I lusted after her like any other idiot. Lust turned into something else, something deeper… and this was the part where I usually stopped thinking about it—about her. The only feelings I had for Catherine nowadays were hate and loathing. When Ava's eyes entered my mind it was easier to let go of Miss America. Ava's eyes… when I looked at them today after our little war I was reminded of a deer—a doe. Her big brown eyes were able to catch my breath—like there was something majestic about her, not just the eyes. And when I left her in the hallway all alone I just wanted to turn around and keep holding her, keeping her safe from the hunters that were those snobbish douche-bags. I knew it would only spread rumors if I'd done it and it would make her an easier target. She wouldn't like crap being said about us. Why did I care about a girl who was constantly badmouthing me and threatening to hit me, I had no idea.