All I've Never Wanted (2 page)

Suddenly, a low murmur rippled through the crowd, and when I looked to see what had everyone in such a tizzy, I was shocked to see a girl had emerged from the passenger seat of Zack's car. She was stunningly beautiful and supermodel tall, with a cascading mane of perfect blonde waves and a delicate, heart-shaped face that boasted bright blue-green eyes, high cheekbones, and rosy pink lips. Her slender, perfect body was encased in a beautiful pale green silk sundress that probably cost more than an average person's monthly rent.

Actually, now that I looked more closely, she bore a striking resemblance to Zack.

"No way. No. Freaking. Way." Venice's jaw was almost grazing the ground.

"Who is that?" I asked curiously. The Scions had never, 
ever
made an entrance with a girl before.

"If I'm correct, that's no other than Adriana Perry, Zack's twin sister."

I blinked. "He has a twin sister?"

"Yeah." Venice didn't tear her eyes from the spectacle. "They're really close but she's been at some Swiss boarding school since eighth grade."

"How do you 
know 
all of this stuff?"

Venice just looked at me. "Um, I live for gossip, remember?"

Oh yeah. I’d forgotten about that.

Everyone had quieted down again, I realized, because the main attraction was finally showing his face.

Roman Fiori. The sole heir to the world's largest fortune, which encompassed shipping, oil, electronics, telecommunications, textiles, and sports franchises; an athletic prodigy hailed as the second coming of Michael Jordan, Pele, and Joe Montana rolled into one; the single hottest specimen to ever walk the face of this earth.

According to all the girls who are currently peeing themselves in excitement, anyway. I mean, I guess I can 
kind of 
see it. The entire package—the thick, wavy black hair, the naturally golden bronze skin, the sleek muscular body, the cut-glass cheekbones, and those one-of-a-kind, gold-flecked dark violet eyes—was made to melt girls' hearts.

Ok, so I can totally see it, but luckily, it takes more than just supernaturally good looks to win me over. As far as I'm concerned, Roman Fiori is the biggest jerk alive and as arrogant as they come.

The small group made their way leisurely towards the school. Roman was at front, of course, flanked by Carlo and Parker; Zack and Adriana brought up the rear.

The crowd on the stairs parted like the Red Sea for Moses.

Roman's face was expressionless as he made his way up the stairs and inside the hallway.

Everyone waited until all the Scions and Adriana were safely out of earshot before they started buzzing about the latter's sudden appearance.

"Do you think something happened at boarding school?"

"Ohmygod, I can't believe she's going here now!"

"Man, she's 
hot!"

It was at that moment that the bell finally, blissfully rang.

I let out a relieved sigh. "Come on, let's get to class or we'll be late," I said, pulling Venice like she'd pulled me earlier.

"Yeah, I make you watch the hottest guys ever and you make me go write essays," she grumbled. "Some friend you are."

I smirked. "You'll thank me one day."

*              *              *

Rrrring! 
The bell signaling the end of third period and the start of lunch hadn't even finished ringing before the hallways were filled with hungry high schoolers clamoring for their daily intake of gourmet sushi and pastries flown in from France.

Yes, that is really what they serve in our Dining Center, or DC, as everyone calls it. Fitting, considering the politics in our DC outrivals that of our nation's capitol tenfold.

I sidestepped an overly PDA-ing couple and pushed my way into the girls' bathroom, which is all done up with Italian marble, sterling-silver faucets, and jewel-toned velvet furniture in the lounge area, though why a public bathroom—or any bathroom, for that matter—needs a lounge area is beyond me. There's even a bathroom attendant presiding over an array of European toiletries.

There were already three girls in the bathroom when I came in, all stick-thin, whose green-and-gold plaid uniform skirts were shortened to the skankiest proportions possible.

They're the type of girls who usually take the time to shoot me a disdainful look before going right back to their primpfests, sometimes throwing in a snide comment about me being a scholarship student or something.

Scholarship students were very, very rare at Valesca. Academically speaking, that was a good thing, since recipients were viewed very favorably by college admissions committees (according to my guidance counselor). Socially speaking…not so much. Merit was a main factor in scholarship decisions, but so was financial need. Being a scholarship kid basically implied my family wasn’t rich enough to afford the schools six-figure tuition bill in full—which was true—and since there is virtually nothing more important than money in Valesca, you can see why my scholarship status might be a problem.

In any other town, my family would’ve been considered well-off or even wealthy, but in Valesca, we were middle class at best. I don't really give a shit what other people think of me, but I hate it when my family gets looked down on just because we don't earn millions a year.

That's why I was more than a little befuddled when the girls took one look at me and scurried out the door, heads down. If they had tails, they'd be tucked between their legs right now.

It didn't take me long to realize why.

When I turned, I found myself face-to-face with Adriana Perry, who's even more flawless-looking up close, if you can believe it.

There was dead silence for a good ten seconds as we stared at each other. For the most part, her face was unreadable. I thought I detected a hint of amusement, but it was gone so fast I wasn't sure if I'd just imagined it.

"Hi," I said awkwardly, when I couldn't take the awkwardness anymore.

No answer.

I had just about figured she was ignoring me and was going to leave when she spoke up. "Hi," she answered in a soft, lilting voice. Though her eyes didn't stray from my face, I had the feeling she was examining me in the way only another girl can.

"Ok, well, it's nice to meet you—well, see you—but I'd actually better get going." I edged around her, painfully aware of the odd looks the bathroom attendant was sending our way.

"What's your name?"

I blinked. That, I didn't see coming. "Um, Maya."

Silence again.

"Maya Lindberg," I added.

Apparently, that was what she'd been waiting for, because she then held out her hand and said, "Adriana Perry."

I shook her hand hesitantly. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Giving me a brief smile, she proceeded to turn to the mirror and fix her already-perfect hair without saying another word.

Ooook.

Not wanting to stay in that bathroom a second longer, I made my way as quickly through the door as possible, without downright running.

The encounter hadn't been unpleasant, but it hadn't been, well, pleasant either. It had just been…weird.

What's even worse, I can't quite shake the feeling that that two-minute interaction had just cost me a year's worth of anonymity.

*              *              *

"So do you guys wanna go eat in the DC or eat out somewhere?" Zack asked, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers together behind his head.

"I vote for eating out. I've been craving Serrano's," Parker said, referencing Il Serrano, the chic Italian eatery that was practically a Valesca institution.

Zack smirked. "Yeah, and I bet that hot new waitress has nothing to do with your…
craving."

Parker shrugged. "You know me."

"Yes, we do," Carlo said dryly. "Now, can we please decide where we're going to eat?"

"Let's go to Da Silvano instead," Zack suggested. "We've already been to Serrano's twice this past week."

"Da Silvano is in New York," Carlo pointed out.

"Yeah, but if we go right now and take one of the jets we'll probably end up missing only fourth period."

"Fine by me," Parker yawned. "What's the use of having a private teacher if he can't be flexible?"

"I'm sure he'll be glad he'll finally get a break from you troublemakers," a new, feminine voice said.

Parker sat up a bit straighter. "Hey, Adri."

"Hey." Adriana looked around the room. "Are you guys going to lunch anytime soon, or are you just going to stay in here all day?" she teased.

"We were thinking about going to Da Silvano or Serrano's," Parker said. "What do you think?"

"Oh, I think I'm just going to grab something in the DC," she replied airily. Half a day at Valesca and she'd already gotten the acronyms down pat.

Zack blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah, there's some interesting people here," Adriana said with an oddly secretive smile.

"Not in this school," Roman said, speaking up for the first time.

Adriana rolled her eyes. "You're too cynical, Rome," she chided. "That's no way to go through life."

"It's worked for me so far."

She shook her head. "All you need is a girlfriend," she decided. "A nice one. And then you won’t be so moody.”

"More like, and then pigs can fly," Carlo said loud enough for only Parker and Zack, whom he was sitting in between, to hear. They snickered.

Roman stared at her like she was crazy. "Does it look like I want a girlfriend?" he demanded.

Ignoring his tone, Adriana merely gave him a serene smile. "You will once you meet the right girl."

"I doubt it. The only thing girls care about is my money."

"There goes your cynicism again…"

Roman snorted. "Please. You're seriously telling me you can find a girl in this town who doesn't care I'm a Fiori?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Oh, boy," Zack sighed.

Adriana raised her eyebrows. "That sounds like a challenge."

"That's because it is."

"Fine." Adriana looked inexplicably smug. "Give me until the end of this semester. If you don't like the girl that 
I 
choose enough to ask her to be your girlfriend, I won't ever bug you about it again."

"Well, that's just one less thing I have to worry about next semester then," Roman said cockily.

"You guys are ridiculous," Zack groaned.

"Well, I'm all for it," Parker drawled. "My question, though, is how are you going to find the perfect girl when you haven't even been here for the past four years?"

Adriana smiled. “Parker, dear, never underestimate the power of female determination.”

CHAPTER 2

Adriana was on a mission. If there was one thing she lived for, it was a challenge, especially when the challenger was Roman.

Even though she had been at boarding school for a while, she still knew Roman a lot better than he thought. After all, they were both children of the Founding Four families, who themselves had been friends for generations. He might 
say 
he didn't want a girlfriend, but it was only because a) he was under the impression girls only liked him for his looks and/or money, which is fair, since most of them did, and b) he hadn't met the right girl yet. Adriana was sure there had to be at least one girl in the world who was right for him, and she was going to make damn sure she found her. After all, Roman was like another brother to her, and she hated seeing him so cold and emotionless all the time when she knew he was sweet guy deep down inside.

Way,
way
deep down inside. He just needed someone to trigger that part of him, and what better way to start the search for the Perfect Girl than at Valesca itself?

The sound of her Manolo Blahnik kitten heels echoed loudly in the empty halls, but she was so deep in thought she barely noticed.

As the sole heir to the largest private fortune on the planet, Roman had been spoiled beyond comparison in terms of material means, but his parents were a bit lacking in emotional affection. As a result, Roman had never really known what love was or how people in love were supposed to act or, let's face it, that there were people truly in love in the first place. The walls he'd built up against the opposite sex were layers thick, and whoever wanted to break them down needed to be tough.

Adriana ran through the requirements of the perfect girl in her mind. Physically speaking, she needed to be attractive enough to at least capture Roman's temporary interest, until he got to know her better. Physically, she knew his type—he tended to prefer exotic brunettes over all-American blondes. That wasn't a problem. What the town's female population lacked in sincerity, they more than made up for in looks.

Personality-wise, Perfect Girl needed to be able to speak her mind but at the same time not be too aggressive; intelligent; able to carry on a real conversation, and possess a lack of superficiality or pretense.

Now, that ruled out a 
lot 
of girls in Valesca.

Well, I'll just have to focus on the easy part first,
Adriana decided, changing direction mid-stride and heading towards the administration wing of the school instead of the DC.

The student affairs office was pretty quiet when she arrived, which was a good thing. Unlike her brother and his friends, she didn't particularly revel in flaunting her power in front of others. That was the good thing about boarding school; she didn't have to worry about others treating her differently just because she was a Perry.

Then again, there were definite perks to the title, especially when she needed a favor. Like now.

"Hi!" the office assistant simpered, immediately standing up when she saw who just came in.

"Hi." Adriana was careful to keep her voice neutral. She glanced at the assistant's name tag: Teri.

"What can I do for you today?" Teri asked eagerly.

"I need a draft of this year's yearbook," Adriana said authoritatively. Zack had filled her in on how yearbooks worked here. The students' pictures were taken over the summer by a professional photographer hired either personally or by the school, to eliminate any potential of bad lighting and poor angles. It also gave students a chance to rally their team of professional hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, aestheticians, and plastic surgeons. All the pictures were then sent to the school two weeks before classes started so that year’s yearbook editor could put together a mock-up and hit the ground running on the first day of school. The draft was supposed to be top-secret and seen only by yearbook committee members.

Luckily, Adriana had studied up on every aspect of her new school, and she knew the draft was locked in the storage room of the student affairs office.

Teri blinked, not looking quite as eager now. "Oh, well…" She swallowed hard, obviously nervous. "But only the Director of Student Affairs has the key to the storage room," she admitted meekly.

Adriana didn't even blink. If there was one thing she learned from being around the Scions so much, it was how to get what she wanted in the least amount of time. "Well, then, I'll just have a chat with her," she declared, trying not to sound 
too
 imperious. She didn't enjoy being so commanding most of the time but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Without waiting for a reply, she stepped around the front desk and made her way to the back, where the DSA's office was located, leaving a speechless Teri behind. Thank god Zack and Parker had given her an all-access tour a few days ago.

DR. WENDY WOLLENSKY, DIRECTOR OF STUDENT AFFAIRS, the bronze plaque mounted on the door read. Adriana gave one quick knock before twisting the knob and stepping inside.

Dr. Wollensky looked up, obviously startled. With her short silver hair and sleek black Prada suit, she looked astonishingly like Meryl Streep in 
Devil Wears Prada.

"Can I help you?" she asked, somewhat rudely. She obviously didn't appreciate Adriana just barging in like this.

Wow, she even has the same British accent,
 Adriana thought fleetingly, before she snapped back to the task at hand and gave Dr. Wollensky a polite but warning smile. "Of course," she said smoothly. "I would like the draft of this year's yearbook."

Now Dr. Wollensky looked at her like she was crazy. "A draft of this year's yearbook?" She let out a short laugh. "That's not going to happen."

"I think it will," Adriana countered, her voice saccharine-sweet.

The administrator narrowed her eyes. "Now listen here, young lady, I don't know who you think you are, barging into my office like this in the first place, and now you want me to hand over a confidential document? That's not going to happen on 
my 
watch."

Adriana almost laughed out loud. Confidential document? Jesus Christ, this was a 
yearbook 
they were talking about, and not even a finished version at that. It didn't exactly contain a threat to national security.

"What is your name?" Dr. Wollensky demanded, pen at the ready. To scribble out a detention notice, no doubt.

Adriana leaned casually against the doorway. "Adriana Perry," she replied, her tone conveying the idea she could not be more bored with the whole thing.

Panic immediately washed over Dr. Wollensky's Botoxed face.

"The daughter of David Perry?" she asked slowly, visibly gulping.

"Yes." Adriana couldn't help a note of smugness from creeping into her tone. She did not mind lording her 'power' over Dr. Wollensky at all, though she did feel a bit bad about the assistant.

"Oh, well." Dr. Wollensky hastily stood up. "Of course. I'll go get what you need right away," she promised.

Barely two minutes passed before she came back, a thick, bound stack of paper tucked discreetly under her arm. "Here's the copy," she said. "I'm so sorry about earlier. I had no idea…"

"Of course not." Adriana took the book and tucked it into her bag. "Well, I appreciate your help."

With that, she sauntered out of the office at the same moment the bell signaling the end of lunch rang.

"Dang," Adriana muttered under her breath. She'd been hoping to go over some of the pictures before fourth period, but that was obviously not happening. Unlike Zack, she tried to miss as little class as possible.

She would just have to continue her “mission” later.

*              *              *

"God, I love the food on the first day of school," Venice said, taking a huge bite of her gourmet burger. She closed her eyes in gastronomic delight. "If I ate like this every day, I'd be 300 pounds by now."

"You do eat like this every day," I pointed out, unscrewing the cap of my Voss. Trust Valesca to even have fancy water.

"I'm not talking about the 
quality, 
I'm talking about the quantity," Venice explained. "Not that my mom would let me eat so much anyways." She rolled her eyes.

Venice's mom is a former model, and even though she had retired over a decade ago, she was still super conscious about her—and her daughter's—appearance.

"Oh." I took a sip of my water and glanced around the DC. It had been spruced up over the summer, and looked more like a high-end restaurant than a cafeteria. It was also noticeably lacking one component.

The Scions' table, the closest to the slanted glass wall overlooking the campus' lushly landscaped grounds, was empty.

Their lack of presence was obviously felt by everyone else in the DC. The girls looked glum they couldn't throw themselves at the four's feet and the guys looked both relieved and disappointed that their idols weren't here for comparison.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Venice leaned over the table excitedly, her gray eyes sparkling with excitement. "What are you doing this Saturday night?"

"Why?" I asked warily. Things never turned out well whenever she asked me that question with that look in her eyes.

"Just answer me," she insisted.

Definitely not a good sign. I was about to say I had promised my family I'd go to dinner with them when she added, "And don't bother using that tired old family dinner excuse. In case you've forgotten, you told me your dad's away on a business trip until next Monday."

Damn it! This is one of those moments when I definitely regret telling her so much. "I guess I'm not doing anything," I admitted grudgingly. I hadn't realized how hard it is to come up with a believable excuse on the spot until today.

"Good." Venice beamed. "Stan Hoffman's having a party at his house and you're coming with."

"What? No way!"

"Why not?" she pouted. "You already said you're not doing anything."

"Be
cause…
what if I have a lot of homework due or something?" I argued feebly. It sounded lame even to my ears.

Venice gave me a cross look. "Maya Lindberg, you are a healthy, 17-year-old teenage girl. You do not need to do homework on a Saturday night and miss the school year's first party!"

"But the Scions might be there," I pointed out a bit desperately. "Like you said, it's the first party, and they're bound to be there."

"Uh…not really. They're super picky about which parties they get seen at, remember? They're probably not even going to be there, sadly."

Ok, so truthfully, it's not just about the Scions. I just don't like parties. Don't get me wrong, I'm not morally opposed to them or anything, but I've been to a few last year and they just seemed to consist of people getting drunk and hooking up with each other so others will gossip about them the next day. Not exactly my idea of a good time.

"Pleeeease?" Venice begged.

I shook my head stubbornly.

"Pretty please? With a cherry on top?"

When I steadfastly refused to reply, she let out an exaggerated sigh and leaned back in her chair. "Fine. But then I'd have to go alone, and if I end up getting so drunk I have sex with some random guy and get knocked up you better become the godmother."

"Venice France!" I nearly shouted, the use of her full name not nearly as intimidating as I might like it to sound thanks to the sheer silliness of it. "Don't even joke about stuff like that! Haven't you ever seen 
16 & Pregnant?"

She shrugged. "Technically, I'm 17. Besides, who knows? Things like this happen…"