Secrets and Seduction: A Dark Boarding School Romance (Preston Academy Book 1)

Noah took a bite of my croissant while I tried to get as many assignments done as possible before the bell rang for first period.

I had never hated church services as much as I did now. Not that I had paid much attention, but just sitting in that cold hall listening to the way-too-perfect Penelope Arden was enough misery for me. Or maybe I was just a bit jealous, who knows?

“Mr. Preston is a real jerk for giving you so much homework. It’s not like you missed much,” Leilah said next to me.

I just shrugged, almost completely blocking out their conversation.

“He has a thing for torturing people,” Noah butted in, to which Caleb gave him a dirty look. What did he mean by that? I looked up from my notebook for the first time.

“Shut up, Noah, or Avery will think Mr. Preston is a cold-blooded murderer.” They looked at each other for a moment before he laughed and dropped the subject.

I was about to ask what they meant by their inappropriate jokes, but by then the bell rang and I packed up my things to go to class.

I had expected that we would have many more classes together, but I wasn’t that lucky. While the three of them were always together, I had to kill my time with people two or three years younger than me.

Olivia, a classmate I met yesterday, all pale and with dark circles under her eyes, sat down on the free chair next to me. The poor thing looked quite ill.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

“Would you like me to walk you to the nurse?” I asked, worried.

Her eyes met mine.

“No, it’s alright, I’m fine. I’m just a little sick.” Her long scarf and thick sweater suggested she was pretty cold. It didn’t look like a mild bout of flu.

“I don’t mind. Come on, let’s go.”

Just as I touched her shoulder, a shiver ran through me. My whole body was urging me to run, to turn my back on her. It was almost as if my mind became all-alert to a nonexistent threat.

“No, it’s alright, I’m fine. I’m just a little sick,” she repeated more forcefully.

I lowered myself back into the chair, creating as much space between us as I could. Do they punish you even for being sick? I couldn’t explain her reaction any other way.

My eyes drifted to her one last time before I turned away and waited for the professor in silence.

Annoyed, I made my way to the professor’s office. I had spent my brief break doing the rest of the unnecessary homework and was accordingly grumpy because I couldn’t eat.

I was an insufferable person when I was hungry or when someone disturbed me while I was eating. Maybe that was just the predator in all of us.

I knocked once and didn’t wait for a response, but stepped right into the stuffy room.

Again, the smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke welcomed me. Maybe this time he would give me one, especially since I had done everything, he had asked of me.

“Sit down.” He pointed me to the seat across from him. Today he wore a similar outfit as last time, except that this time his pants were black, and he had swapped his button-down shirt for a sweater.

I took my homework out of my satchel and presented it to him like a trophy, but he didn’t even look at it.

“I didn’t waste my precious time doing those exercises without you even taking note of them,” I said between gritted teeth.

Annoyed, he tore the paper out of my hands, read through a few sentences and threw everything in the trash.

“Happy?” I clenched my hands into fists and would have liked to rip his head off for that.

“I’m anything but happy.” He snorted as he sat down across from me.

“Sounds like a you problem.” My professor leaned back, watching me to the point where it made me almost feel awkward.

It was as if he could see right into my soul, and I hated it.

“Am I supposed to just sit here and stare at the ceiling again?” I asked, irritated.

“I don’t really care what you do.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“It didn’t seem that way last night.”

He propped his elbows on the cherry wood table, leaning toward me. “Tell me, Ms. James, how did it seem last night?” There was something almost hypnotic about his face, his voice.

“It seemed almost like you missed me before I had even taken a step out of that closet.”

As soon as these words left my mouth, I regretted them. How could I say such a thing, especially to a professor who could kick me out of this academy whenever it suited him? Oh God, Avery, you need to learn to keep your fucking mouth shut, I scolded myself.

Instead of him talking down to me for that assumption, and I don’t know why I said it in the first place, he laughed. He laughed. It seemed almost unnatural, as if his face wasn’t made for such a thing.

“Bold. Maybe there’s a little backbone in that dull shell after all,” he returned.

You’re about to see how dull those fists are as they caress your oh-so-beautiful face. “Play something on the piano,” he demanded out of nowhere.

All life drained from my face. “I can’t.” Please, don’t force me, I begged silently.

“My papers say quite the opposite.” I dared to look at the elegant piano and shook my head.

“Your idiotic papers know nothing about my life,” I hissed

As if in confirmation, my fingers twitched—something Mr. Preston did not miss. His gaze remained on my hands, and I cursed myself for having lost control over them.

‘Play something on the piano, I said.’ This time he sounded more dominant, using his authority over me, knowing full well I didn’t want to do that.

“I can’t,” I exclaimed, holding my hands in the air as proof. ‘They are broken, are no longer useful. Do you know why? Because I made a little mistake and I’ll pay for it for the rest of my artless life.’ Thinking about the source of my pain, I found it much too difficult to breathe. Was I having a panic attack? No, please not in front of him…

The devil narrowed his eyes.

“Self-pity doesn’t suit you.” I groaned. My emotions were just a game for him. He probably even enjoyed this scene right now.

“It’s not about self-pity. It’s about my dreams, my wishes and desires. It’s about the future I could have had, that I had taken away from myself.” He clenched his jaw, didn’t bother to acknowledge my sorrow. Perhaps it was better that way.

“I am sure you have no dreams, professor, so you can’t understand my pain. You are bitter and alone, no one to share your pathetic existence. Maybe we have more in common than I thought.’

I knew I shouldn’t have said that, that there would be consequences for my words. But he had hit a sore spot.

I braced myself for his nasty words.

“Play.” Without thinking about it, my fist smacked against his table, causing the glass on top to clink.

He was not impressed by my outburst of anger, held my hateful gaze.

I could see it in his eyes that he was running out of patience, even if a slight hint of amusement lingered. Mr. Preston certainly wouldn’t bat an eye at ratting me out to his aunt. And he certainly didn’t care about the pain in my soul at the thought of my fingers on the ivory.

I took a deep breath, stood up, and straightened my skirt. The piano was waiting for me like an executioner, mocking me with every step.

With trembling hands, I settled down on the bench, feeling my professor’s eyes boring into my back. “Go on,” he demanded.

I brushed over the dusty keys, inevitably thinking back to the time when I had played in front of people admiring my art. Art—there was nothing left of it.

With my eyes closed, I struck up the first notes and failed miserably. It was almost as if my fingers wanted to embarrass me at that very moment.

All day they had done what I wanted them to do, but when it came down to it, they betrayed me like a trembling enemy.

‘Again,’ my professor ordered, and I gritted my teeth.

Unwillingly, I did what he said…and failed again. It sounded as if a child was playing it.

I pulled my hands off the piano as if it had burned me.

‘It was on a Friday night,’ I mumbled. “It had been pouring. You could hardly see anything on the road. But my friends really wanted to go to the gas station to buy snacks, so I drove them,“ I began. He probably didn’t even care for my story, but I wanted to tell him anyway. Maybe he would understand me better. „On the way back, one of them got a call saying that we should come to a party. It was already late, and I had an important rehearsal for a concert the next morning, so I wanted to go home.”

I closed my eyes, picturing the night as if it were yesterday. “They were not pleased with my answer. Actually, I don’t think they even liked me that much in first place. We started arguing and then my passenger yanked the steering wheel.”

I remembered the smell of smoke and blood and almost gagged at that memory. “I went off the road. My car rolled over, and we landed in the ditch. I can only remember bits and pieces of what happened after that. But I know they left me to die. All three. None of them had tried to pull me out of the car.”

I turned to him, my eyes wet. “Every time I look in the mirror, I’m reminded of what I’ll never have.”

His nails dug into the leather of the chair, eyes an abyss of hatred and contempt. Only this time it was not directed towards me.

“Fame?” he asked, his voice the epitome of pure menace.

A weak smile crossed my lips.

“Happiness.”

Something in the way he looked at me changed, something I couldn’t describe.

My professor cleared his throat and gestured for me to take a seat in front of him again.

‘Do the rest of your homework. Then we’ll be done for today.’

I nodded in relief. I wouldn’t have managed another round of that torment. The bitter feeling of defeat still lurked in the last corner of my heart; the smell of uselessness snaked around my senses—even as I finished the last sentence.

Just as I was leaning back, someone knocked on the door, making me jump. Mr. Preston invited the guest in, and I narrowed my eyes. Noah.

“I’m here to pick up Avery. As far as I know, the tutoring session is over now,” he said, flashing his most charming smile.

My professor looked back and forth between us. Something was bothering him, but he quickly regained his composure.

“Go.” With those words, we were dismissed.

But before I could leave, I turned to him one last time.

“I will never forget that you made me play the piano.” The words shot out of me like invisible poison darts, a testament to the hatred I felt at that very moment.

“I insist you don’t.” His crooked smile only showed that he was enjoying the scene.

Like a gentleman, Noah had pretended not to pay attention to our conversation, but I knew very well that he had overheard everything.

I was about to throw my satchel over my shoulder when Noah intervened and carried it for me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled and went ahead.

I waited a few moments after we left the office before I broke the silence.

‘What are you doing here?’

“What does it look like?” he joked. “I want to spend time with you.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. He was attractive, very attractive in fact, but I didn’t want him to get his hopes up. I’d never been in a relationship before, and I wasn’t planning on getting into one this year. It would be doomed to fail.

Maybe I was just overreacting or interpreting too much into his gesture. Yes, I certainly did.

We walked down the dim hallways, talking about mundane things and laughing until my stomach hurt. I understood why Noah was so popular. He had a certain aura that pulled everyone in. It was almost as if he was made to wrap everyone around his finger.

“You smell very nice, you know that?”

“Yeah? Like what?” I asked with a raised eyebrow, surprised because I had forgotten to put on perfume today.

“Can’t describe it. Everyone smells good in their own way, but for me, you stand out.” He shrugged and I couldn’t help but grin.

“Maybe you’ve just watched Perfume too many times,” I said, all playful.

Noah gave me a look I couldn’t read.

“Maybe.”

I hadn’t noticed how much time had passed when we finally arrived outside my room, the sun almost set. Its golden rays made the dark red tapestry and the wooden ornaments glow, made the chandelier above us glitter as if it was made of millions of diamonds.

“I should go now. It’s been a long day. Thanks for helping,” I said after he handed me the bag.

Before I could turn around, he put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me from walking away. His touch gave me the same feeling I had today with the other classmate. Bizarre. What was wrong with me? As quickly as he had touched me, he pulled away.

I took a step back to put enough distance between us.

“We’re off in two weeks. Let’s go downtown, maybe to a bar,” he proposed with a wide grin.

Noah seemed so confident, so charming and consuming, that I completely forgot about my concern from before.

“Yes,” I breathed. What? No. I didn’t want to. Why did I say that? Afraid of getting myself into more shit, I finally disappeared into my room, leaving my classmate standing in the hallway.

I let my satchel fall to the floor and threw myself on the bed, rubbing my eyes.

What the hell had just happened? Not that I was averse to spending time with Noah, but the way the answer came out of my mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world gave me the creeps.

To be honest, everything about this boarding school, which was more like a luxurious castle with internet access, gave me the creeps. The people were so strange, and the faculty…

I shook my head. Just the nerves, a new place, and new people—that didn’t have to mean anything.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off here.

The wind ruffled my hair and made me shiver. It was far too cold for my taste as I walked along the gardens. The moon had just shown its face, but it was not yet bedtime, so I used the time to clear my mind.

I sucked in the earthy scent and stared across at the woods that bordered the grounds. It was so damn quiet. You could almost think that even the animals didn’t dare come here.

How I missed the warmth, the sea, sailing…. Me and my dad used to go sailing, just the two of us. The best memories I had were on a boat surrounded by blue and turquoise. Dad…

Will he ever forgive me? I sighed and forced myself to think of something else. Inevitably, my thoughts drifted to my professor and today’s tutoring session. For the first time in ages, I had sat by a piano, and it had hurt, hurt so badly. The wounds in my heart felt even deeper at such moments.

Sunk in my melancholy, I passed trees and bushes until the school’s lights had moved into the far distance. I had not paid attention to the path in front of me when I suddenly stumbled over something soft.

Irritated and with aching knees, I glanced back to see what had made me fall.

A scream of horror came over my numb lips as I looked into Olivia’s lifeless eyes. Then I threw up next to her corpse.