You Said I Was Your Favorite (A Lancaster Prep Novel)
You Said I Was Your Favorite: Chapter 1

First day of school and this is the last place I want to be.

It’s my senior year and I should be feeling on top of the social ladder at the boarding school I’ve attended for the last three years of my life, but all I feel is…

Trapped. Tired.

Completely over it.

Despite Lancaster Prep being the most prestigious private high school in the entire country and owned by my family, I’m bored out of my skull. I’d rather be anywhere than here, but every Lancaster is forced to go to this God forsaken school because it’s tradition.

I wish I could tell tradition to fuck right off, but here I am. Stuck in high school. I feel like I’ve been here forever. How am I going to survive one more year?

My sister attends Lancaster Prep too. Edie is a sophomore and a bit of a troublemaker, though I can’t blame her for acting out. Pretty sure she’s bored too. But her sometimes erratic behavior means I can’t count on her for shit, which means I can’t count on anyone. And as the responsible—gimme a break—oldest child and eldest son of George and Miriam Lancaster, my parents remind me constantly that I have an image to maintain.

Goddamn if that isn’t stressful.

My cousins before me attended this school and ruled it with an iron fist, reigning over their peers—sometimes even the faculty and admin—however they wanted. Grant. Finn. Whittaker—the worst of them all, though Grant is a close second to Whit. Even Crew, who’s the youngest son of my uncle Reggie, was known as a giant asshole.

Until he fell in love. Cue the puking emoji. That’s the last thing I want right now. I’m too young to settle down and fall in love.

Sounds like a nightmare.

I tried to graduate early. I had enough credits and wanted to take a gap year, but my parents wouldn’t allow it. They don’t care if I’m bored and the classes don’t stimulate me. They could give fuck all about my genius IQ or the fact that I could test out of here today. They claimed I was too irresponsible to travel all over Europe by myself for a year. Talk about an insult.

My parents have zero faith in me.

Doesn’t help that not even a week ago, I had a huge bash to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. All of my friends—and plenty of people I don’t even know—showed up at my parents’ house in the Hamptons while they were on vacation in the Bahamas. We fucked that place up—it was great.

Until I got into a raging argument with my then-girlfriend, Cadence.

Someone caught us and filmed the entire fight, then proceeded to post it on social media. Mom and Dad eventually saw the post—pretty sure Edie showed them but she will neither confirm nor deny—along with the hoard of teenagers crowded in their backyard and spilling out of the house. The evidence of alcohol and drugs scattered everywhere, all over my mother’s precious furniture and rugs, leaving behind a mess in pretty much every single room.

Busted.

According to my parents, that’s the main reason I’m not allowed to leave Lancaster early.

“You may be eighteen and too smart for your own good, but you’re still an immature little shit who can’t control yourself when left alone,” Father yelled at me, his face as red as a tomato.

“And someone damaged the Pollock, dear,” Mother complained as she literally clutched the pearls wrapped around her neck.

It took everything I had not to roll my eyes and say something rude. There’s a slight dent in the ugly ass art piece that she’s referring to, but no one would notice. And my father literally has no idea what he’s talking about. I can control myself just fine.

I merely choose not to most of the time.

Life is meant to be lived. I hate being told what to do.

“Bro.” I glance up to replace John Joseph Richards—my best friend, otherwise known as JJ—standing in front of me, his hand held out for a slap, which I automatically give. “What are you doing here?”

This is where things get sticky. I told everyone who mattered—only a select few—that I wasn’t coming back. I had plans to get the fuck out of here, once and for all. The rolling green hills and ivy-covered buildings were going to be nothing but a distant memory if I had my way.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get my way.

“Ready to start senior year.” I shrug, before I roll up my sleeves. I wear only a few pieces of my uniform, leaving the heavy wool jacket back in my room. Bucking tradition when we’re supposed to be fully dressed like the good little soldiers they expect us to be.

Fuck that. I’m going to do whatever I want because I’m a Lancaster.

Who’s going to stop me?

“I thought you were going to spend your senior year in Europe,” JJ says, still confused.

Irritated, I start walking, and JJ falls into step right beside me. “You know how it goes. Parents weren’t down.”

“When are they ever?” JJ knows of what he speaks. His parents give him endless shit about everything he does. Good or bad. Wrong or right. The guy gets zero breaks.

My parents look like saints compared to his.

“If they’re going to force me to be here, then I’m going to make the best of it by doing things my way.” I spot my sister in the near distance, surrounded by a bunch of girls while she stands tall above them. Mom wants her to model, but I don’t get it. My sister isn’t what I would call conventionally attractive, though she photographs well, I’ll give her that.

Edie is all limbs and awkward angles. Big eyes and flat chested and a wide mouth that scowls just as often as it smiles. She doesn’t look like either of our parents. It’s almost as if she was an alien baby dropped off on the front stoop of our parents’ old brownstone back in the day.

“Your sister is getting hotter,” JJ observes.

I slap his chest, making him grunt. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Merely stating facts. You’ll need to put an electric fence around her to keep the guys away.”

“Don’t give me any ideas,” I mutter, as we make our way to the auditorium along with everyone else who attends this school. I glance around, noting that I’m the only one who’s not wearing a jacket, and I stand taller, proud of myself for not giving a damn.

“Where’s Cadence?” JJ asks as we draw closer to the auditorium’s open front doors.

“Don’t know.” I shrug.

JJ says nothing for a moment and I know he expects me to explain myself further, but I don’t.

What is there to say? I haven’t spoken to her since the night of my birthday party when she screamed at me for two hours and ruined everything. I blocked her from my contacts, knowing that would drive her out of her mind, and I haven’t responded to any of her DMs either. She deserves to sweat it out a bit.

Maybe even forever.

“She’s usually glued to your side,” JJ finally says.

“I haven’t talked to her since the birthday party.”

“Seriously?” JJ sounds shocked.

“Yeah.” I spot her right then, the crowd parting to reveal her familiar long, glossy auburn hair swinging as she walks ahead of us with her friends. She filmed a shampoo commercial over the summer, her hair is that good. Too bad she’s such a bitch. “We’re done.”

As if she can hear me talking, Cadence chooses that moment to glance over her shoulder, her eyes lighting up when she spots me. “Arch!”

“Does she know that you two are done?” JJ asks, his voice filled with amusement as I send him an irritated glare.

Cadence comes to a stop, her friends abandoning her with exaggerated groans and obvious scowls aimed in my direction, and I slow my steps, keeping the frown on my face as I draw closer and closer.

Cadence Calhoun is the epitome of a spoiled rich girl. With the gorgeous hair and the clear blue eyes, the perfect white teeth and the reconstructed—she had a deviated septum, don’t you know—nose, the lips already plumped with filler, she’s beautiful.

But all that beauty hides a dark, ugly soul.

She’s not a nice person. I know this. Even she knows this. But, somehow, we were drawn to each other last year and we sort of formed this power couple. She ate it up, while I merely tolerated it. It’s hard to resist the most beautiful girl on campus when she’s sending you nudes and willingly giving you blow jobs on the regular.

But she’s mean. Nothing makes her happy. She could have all the money in the world, own every Chanel bag in existence and be engaged to the hottest guy she’s ever seen, and she’d still replace a way to complain.

That’s just her way.

I stop directly in front of Cadence, glad JJ keeps walking. He prefers to keep his distance when we’re together and I don’t blame him. Our conversations always end in an argument and JJ doesn’t want to deal.

The moment it’s just the two of us, Cadence steps closer, her hand landing on my chest, her gaze imploring. I shift back, her hand falling and her lips form the tiniest frown. “What’s wrong with you?”

Fury is already bubbling close to the surface, but I swallow it down. Her snappy tone always sets me off. She talks to me like I’m her kid. I don’t need another mother. I already have one and she’s more than enough.

“We’re not having this conversation right now.” I glance around, noting that every single person nearby is watching us, even the shiny-faced freshmen and they shouldn’t have a damn clue who we are. I spot my sister in the near distance with a smirk on her face and when we make eye contact, she slowly shakes her head.

Yeah. Really don’t need her judgment in this moment.

“Why not?” That mock pout Cadence assumes is cute and sexy appears, doing nothing for me. She reaches for my tie, keeping me from escaping her clutches, giving the silk fabric a light tug. “I’ve missed you so much, Archie.”

No one calls me Archie. Not a single soul because I’ve made it well known that I hate the nickname. I’m not particularly fond of my name in general. Archibald, after some dead ancestor who made our family a ton of money at one point about a hundred years ago or so.

Okay fine, I act like I don’t know who I was named for when I do. It was my great-grandfather. My family is big on tradition. Hence the old-fashioned names and the fact that we’re all named after dead relatives.

“Don’t call me that,” I say through clenched teeth.

Cadence’s sly smile is obvious—and annoying. She knows she got to me, though she probably doesn’t realize it’s in a negative way. “Come on, Arch. Don’t be mad. Sit with me inside.”

I don’t shrug her off when she lets go of my tie and curls her arm through mine. We start walking together, heading for the open doors once again.

“I’ll let you finger me if we sit in the back row,” she whispers close to my ear.

A few weeks ago, I might’ve agreed. It wouldn’t be the first time I fingered Cadence somewhere in the auditorium named after yet another one of my dead relatives, but now?

I’m not interested.

“I’m keeping my hands to myself,” I tell her firmly.

“God, you’re no fun.” More pouting but I ignore her.

Once we’re inside, we sit in the senior section, which is right at the front of the stage. No fingering allowed, much to Cadence’s brief disappointment. Brief because it disappears fast when she realizes we’re on complete display for the rest of the student body and we’re finally getting the respect that we’re due.

We’re seniors. We rule the school, and her being attached to a Lancaster means no other senior girl can top her. She’s in charge. Or at least she thinks she is.

And she’s such a power-hungry bitch, I’m sure every senior female is shaking in her loafers at the thought of potentially crossing Cadence. They’re going to avoid her like the plague or kiss her ass for all eternity.

I don’t have the heart to remind her we’re done just yet, so I keep my mouth shut and talk mostly with JJ, who’s sitting in the row directly in front of me, turned around and keeping up a steady stream of conversation while Cadence sends him the occasional glare.

“Can’t he talk to someone else?” Cadence clings to my arm.

“He’s my best friend, so no.” I barely look at her, shooting JJ a quick smile.

“Everyone, please come closer. Don’t sit in the back seats!” Headmaster Matthews is on stage at the podium, yelling at everyone good-naturedly. I hate that schmuck. He gets off on torturing my ass and punishing me every chance he gets. I’m sure he’s going to relish it more than usual since this is his last year with me.

Fucker.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” our headmaster yells, waving his hands in encouragement. I swear I can hear the moans and groans coming from behind me as students reluctantly get out of their seats and shuffle forward, only because he’s forcing them to do so.

Every year at the first day of school assembly, Matthews encourages everyone to sit closer to the stage so it feels more inclusive—his words, not mine. The loser kids who prefer to sit in the back practically drop in the aisles. They’re so distraught over having to sit near us normal people, who have functioning social lives and don’t hole up in their dorms when they’re not in class, too scared to mingle with their actual peers.

This morning, Matthews is more obnoxious than normal, actually sending out staff members to drag everyone closer to the stage. A few teachers and even Matthews’ secretary are corralling all seniors to sit in the appointed section. There are empty seats to the right of me, but not for long. Nope, eventually there’s a string of quiet, mousy girls heading down the narrow aisle, led by the quietest, mousiest one of all.

JJ snickers. “Ooh, new girlfriend alert.”

“More like secret fuck bait,” I return, my gaze drifting down the length of the girl who pisses me off every time I look at her.

Daisy Albright.

She’s not mousy. Not even close. No, she’s actually fucking beautiful and I don’t get why she plays down her looks. Why no one else sees what I see. She’s smart and quiet and shy and gorgeous.

I don’t like her.

I don’t even know her. Not really.

“Correction, bro. Jail bait,” JJ says, loud and clear enough for Daisy to hear him.

She acts like she didn’t, but I see the way her lips form into a frown. Her bright blonde hair is pulled into a French braid, wayward strands flying around her makeup-free face. Her cheeks are pink, like she’s already hot, and I’m sure she is because she’s decked out in the full uniform, jacket and all with the button-down shirt done up to her fucking chin for the love of God.

“You jail bait, Albright?” I ask her when she settles into the chair right next to mine. Her perfume drifts, something sweet and floral lingering in the air.

Fuck. She smells…

Good.

I shove that thought immediately out of my brain, reminding myself that I don’t like this girl.

Daisy glances over at me, those big golden-brown eyes contemplating me for a moment before she says, “If that’s your way of asking if I’m eighteen yet, then the answer is no.”

JJ and I share a look and I can tell he’s close to bursting out in laughter.

Cadence nudges me in the ribs and I turn to look at her. “Don’t talk to her. Talk to me.”

Her whining is a surefire way for me to continue ignoring her. I return my attention to Daisy, but her head is angled so all I can do is stare at her profile.

Daisy Albright is the scholarship kid. The groundskeeper’s daughter, the good girl who doesn’t really talk to anyone and doesn’t party and doesn’t get into trouble ever. She’s one of those students who lacks real social skills and doesn’t have a lot of friends. Most everyone on campus either feels sorry for her or they don’t think about her at all.

Except for me.

I don’t feel sorry for her. And I do think about her. More than I’d care to admit.

“When’s your birthday?” I ask, leaning in closer to Daisy, trying to intimidate her. Putting on a show for JJ, who’s currently eating it up. He knows nothing about Daisy, not like I do.

Academically, we’re rivals. I’m number one in the class and she’s number two—always on my heels, taking the hardest classes possible to skew her GPA and hopefully surge ahead of mine.

So far, so good. I’m still in the lead. I figure I’ll graduate first in class with Little Miss Second Place right behind me, and I know that infuriates the shit out of her.

I can’t help it if I’m smarter than she is. That I get better grades. She can try all she wants, but I’m not going to let her pass me up. Hell no.

Daisy turns her head, blinking when she replaces that I’m closer than she realized, and she parts her lips for a moment. They’re full and pink and…sexy. I jerk my attention from her mouth, my gaze meeting hers once more, noting the irritation in her eyes. “Why? What do you care?”

JJ and I share another look, the both of us making a bunch of whoa noises. I’m guessing he’s as startled as I am by the backbone she’s showing us.

Impressive.

“Only trying to make conversation, Daze.” I tilt my head, my gaze zeroing in on the tiny earring dotting her ear.

A white flower with a yellow center. A daisy.

How original.

“When’s your birthday?” I think she asks me. Not sure, considering she’s staring straight ahead.

I lower my voice, leaning in closer. I can feel her body heat, see the way her button-down stretches tight across her tits. Looks like sweet little Daisy is stacked, though I already knew that. From what I can tell, Daisy is pretty fucking hot, though she keeps that body under wraps. “You talking to my friend there or me?”

She turns her head toward me once again, her eyes widening as if she’s shocked that I’m now even closer. She even leans back a little bit. “You.”

“I just had my birthday. August sixteenth,” I tell her.

“You’re a Leo.”

“Roar,” JJ adds, right before he starts cracking up.

“Is that a bad thing?” Girls are always so into astrological signs when I could give two shits. Edie goes on and on about it, boring me straight into a nap every single time she starts talking about compatible signs and who she can and cannot date. Like she actually chooses a guy based on what his sign is.

What a bunch of shit.

“Leos are notoriously obsessed with themselves,” Daisy tells me.

I laugh. “Are you implying I’m egotistical?”

“I never said you were.” Daisy averts her gaze, and I can literally feel the stress coming off her in waves. She’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Sitting next to me.

Another jab in my ribs from Cadence, her elbow sharp like a weapon and I’m immediately irritated. When I turn toward her, she offers a sweet smile and holds up her phone. “Want to take a selfie with me?”

“No.” I turn back to Daisy, who’s still staring off into the distance, her shoulders stiff. Like she’s afraid she might accidently bump into me. “When’s your birthday, Daze?”

“How do you know who I am?” She still won’t look at me.

“Our class isn’t that big.” I shift in my seat, leaning toward her so my shoulder bumps into hers. She moves, her entire body turned away from mine. “Plus, we’ve been in…competition now for a few years. You do know who I am, right?”

Her gaze lands on mine for the briefest moment before she looks away. “Archibald Lancaster.”

JJ laughs again, and I scowl at him, shutting him up with a look.

“Arch,” I correct her. “And you never answered my question.”

“I did,” she protests, meeting my gaze yet again. “I know who you are.”

“But you didn’t tell me your birthday.”

“Oh.” She shrugs, seemingly uncomfortable. “It doesn’t matter.”

“So you don’t have a birthday?”

“I’d rather not acknowledge it.”

JJ and I glance at each other, both of us intrigued. “Why not?”

Those golden eyes lock onto mine and I swear her lips tremble before she speaks. “Because it’s the same day that my mother died.”