They were wrong.

Boarding school turned out to be just as lonely as being on my own. But instead of being left in peace, I had to face the bitchy, stuck-up girls that run this place. The cliques, the mind games, and all the hundreds of tiny humiliations that make up daily life at the bottom of the social ladder.

“Oh my God, I missed you guys so much.”

Voices come closer, so I scoot back into the doorway, out of sight. Lexi Heathering strolls around the corner, arm in arm with two of her popular friends. Another girl follows behind them, dragging their bags.

“Mindy, I heard what you did at Kiki’s party, you slut,” she adds, elbowing her friend in the ribs.

Mindy just smirks. “He’s a freshman at Yale.”

Lexi laughs. “You have to make him bring friends next time we sneak into the city!”

The gossip washes over me, snippets of a different life: glamorous and fun, full of wild parties, and boys, and friendship.

It’s a foreign world to me, but suddenly, I yearn for it so hard it hurts.

Suddenly, Lexi glances over, and catches me watching them.

“What are you looking at?” she demands.

I flush. “Nothing. I…”

“She’s just spying on us,” Mindy sneers. “Loser.”

“Whatever.” Lexi dismisses me with a flicker of perfectly sculpted eyebrows and keeps walking.

I feel the sting of rejection all over again, tight behind my ribcage.

Nothing’s changed.

I did everything I could not to be sent back here. I tried explaining to my parents just how terrible it was, but they just thought I was exaggerating.

“It will build character,” they told me, on the few weekends they were back in the city. “You just have to try harder to make friends.”

Try.

I sit in the doorway and sigh. What am I supposed to do: walk up to Lexi in the dining hall one day and invite her to watch Mean Girls with me? She could probably teach those girls a thing or two about being a heartless bitch. But worse than any of the sneers and cutting comments are the ones who don’t even notice me at all. The silent obliviousness, the way everyone’s eyes just slide right past me, as if I’m not even here.

Invisible.

A clatter comes from behind me, somebody charging down the old staircase. I turn. “Watch out!” I yelp, but it’s too late to stop them tripping over my outstretched legs.

The stranger sprawls down face-first on the gravel pathway.

“I’m so sorry!” I leap up, rushing down to help. “Are you OK? You came rushing down so fast. Shit, should I call someone to help?”

He rolls over and sits up. “No, I think I’m good. Besides just making a total ass of myself,” he adds with a laugh.

And I freeze.

It’s a boy, about eighteen or nineteen. He slowly rises to his feet and brushes gravel off his jeans, then straightens up to look at me. “Blake, pleasure to meet you.”

I gawp. He’s gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous I’ve only ever seen in teen magazines, certainly not up close, near enough to touch. His blonde hair falls floppy over his eyes, and his blue eyes are smiling and warm as he holds out his hand to shake.

I reach for it dumbly. “Zoey,” I mutter. “Zoey Barnes.”

“Nice to meet you, Zoey Zoey Barnes,” Blake grins. “So, you’re one of the poor kids locked up in this place?” He looks around. “Tell me, are they as strict as they sound? The headmistress gave us a whole spiel about curfew and detention and merit points. Sounds like hell to me.”

“I…” I blink. “Are you the new Phys Ed assistant?”

I can’t imagine Head Winslow hiring someone this handsome. The other girls would riot.

Blake groans. “Do I look like a teacher? No, wait, don’t answer that.” He shakes his head, amused. “My sister’s just starting here,” he explains. “We figured it would take better care of her.” He looks closer at me. “Although, maybe not, if your expression is anything to go by.”

I look away. Is my misery really so obvious?

Blake’s smile slips. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” he trails off.

“No, it’s fine,” I reply quickly. I go back to my spot on the steps and pick up my book. I fix my eyes on the page, but I don’t see a single word, waiting for him to leave.

Instead, Blake loiters, watching me. “Pride and Prejudice, huh? Great book.”

“You’ve read it?”

My voice must be full of disbelief, because he laughs.

“Sure, I’m not just a pretty face.”

“I didn’t mean—” I stop, my cheeks hot now with embarrassment.

“I guess we both put our foot in it.” Blake gives me another easy smile. “Truce?”

“Umm, sure.” I blink at him, confused. Why is he still talking to me?

He looks around. “Mind if I hang out here for a minute? We’re unloading my sister’s stuff, and I swear, she brought half her room.”

He gestures to a spot on the steps. I hesitantly nod, and Blake takes a seat, sprawling comfortably. He pulls a candy bar from his pocket. “Want some?” he offers me a piece.

“Thanks.” I take it. We sit, silently eating the candy.

This is the most bizarre moment of my life.

I sneak a look at him. He’s leaning back, his face turned to the sun. Everything about him is casual and cool, totally confident. I can already tell he’s the kind of guy who walks into a room and makes friends right away; he doesn’t seem self-conscious at all.