Fall For You [The Jane Austen Academy Series #1] (4 page)

Lizzie spun around in her seat to face Bergie who held the mic like she was hosting a reality television show.

“Welcome, welcome!” Bergie began the annual address by welcoming back former students and welcoming in the new ones. She acknowledged the challenges the school had faced and thanked the students for being part of the solution and not the problem.

Bergie paused and her gaze found Lizzie mid-eyeroll in the split second before she went on to introduce the incoming faculty.

Lizzie rose up in her seat. So Bergie thought she was part of the solution? She did intend to be part of the solution—the solution to force the new owners to dialogue with the students. If the students accepted the current changes without question, who knew what else the new owners would change in the future? They had to realize that they were accountable—to the students, to their paying customers! They couldn’t go around doing things like changing the school’s traditions—especially not its name.

This was the
Jane Austen
Academy, and Lizzie intended to see it stayed that way.

“So I thank you, students,” Bergie said, “and we hope to see you at the Welcome Back dance this Friday.”

Lizzie jumped up in her seat and yelled across the room, “Just one more announcement.” She cleared her throat, stilling her pulse as her classmates shifted in their seats to look at her.

“No need for that now,” Bergie said into the microphone.

“Headmistress Berg was kind enough to reappoint Anne as our chair for the school dance,” she continued. “Let’s give her and Anne a hand, shall we? Come on, make some noise,” Lizzie prodded as the applause slowly grew. “That’s right! Thank you, Headmistress Berg.”

“You’re welcome,” Bergie said with a question in her tone.

“You guys will be glad to know that Anne and I intend to throw the best Welcome Back dance ever!”

A small cheer went up from some of her classmates—mostly her friends—and she took a little courage from it.

“In fact, despite all the new changes at this school, we still want to honor its traditions.” She turned to smile sweetly at Bergie. “What makes the Jane Austen Academy special is its legacy. To that end, Anne and I have decided that the Welcome Back dance will be in traditional Regency style. So brush up on your reel skills and raid the costume department!”

She took a quick bow to a few catcalls and cheers from the girls and a few horrified looks from the boys. She jumped down to her seat—but not before taking a quick glance around the room.

To Bergie’s tight smile.

To Ellie’s confused expression.

To Emma’s gleeful grin.

To Dante’s judgmental glare.

And to Anne, who she could swear was looking at her with satisfaction.

Chapter Three

“What was that all about?” Ellie asked, linking arms with Lizzie as they made their way up the theater aisle. “Since when are you helping organize the dance?”

“Well, Anne is, but I thought I’d help, since we’re supposed to do a welcome feature for the new students in conjunction with the Welcome Back dance,” Lizzie said cautiously.

“So not only did you cave on us rooming together, you also got talked into co-chairing the dance?”

“Not exactly,” Lizzie said. “I’m just helping. Besides, we’re using the dance as a way to get to Bergie.”

“We? You and Anne?”

Before Lizzie could answer, Emma latched onto Ellie’s other arm having finally caught up to them while tottering along in her heels.

“That was genius!” Emma linked elbows with Ellie so the three of them walked side by side like a mismatched posse. Emma was the shortest of them all – even her heels barely put her at Lizzie’s height – so Lizzie took great pleasure in looking down at Emma over the bridge of her nose. She couldn’t help her distaste at Emma’s hijacking of their dynamic duo. And yet…there was no doubt Emma was very influential. Having her side with Lizzie against Bergie would be an advantage.

“Bergie’s trying to get Jasta renamed,” Lizzie explained as she tried to break through the crowd. It was impossible with the three of them across, but she wasn’t going to be the one to break her hold on Ellie. Absolutely not. Ellie was
her
friend. “I overheard her on the phone.”

“She wouldn’t dare change the name,” Ellie said. “There would be a rebellion.”

“Who was she on the phone with?” Emma asked, clearly delighting in gossip.

“We don’t know,” Lizzie admitted, but she quickly explained the call. “I’m not going let it slide, of course. I’m going to do a story expos
é
on it.”

“You’ll have to get it approved,” Ellie said.

“No, she doesn’t,” Emma said. “Lizzie is the
Gazette’s
new managing editor.”

Lizzie felt herself flush as Ellie’s head whipped back and forth between her and Emma.

Ugh, she could kill Emma right now—how did she manage to know everything?

“So you and Anne are roommates, are chairing the dance, and you’re managing the paper…as a junior?” Ellie asked.

“It’s all part of the plan,” Lizzie explained, brushing the accusatory undercurrent under the proverbial rug. “To expose Bergie. I mean, we have to do some things to distract her—like a feature with interviews of the new male students whose parents were large donors.”

“Ooooh, can I come?” Emma asked.

Lizzie frowned. “Come where?”

“To the interviews, of course!”

Lizzie pinned her with a look of exasperation—had Emma’s only takeaway been that? Was she going to bring popcorn and soda, too? Lizzie still intended to treat the assignment with professionalism, however ludicrous the subject. Print was forever, after all.

“No, you’re right,” Emma said—somehow interpreting more into Lizzie’s expression. “With the dance coming up on Friday, I’m more needed here. The girls will need costumes—hair, oh, and makeup! We should all get ready together. You should come to our room, Lizzie.”

“You mean you should get ready with me and Ellie,” Lizzie said testily.

“Yeah, of course, in our room,” Emma said without missing a beat. “That’s where I have all my makeup.”

Lizzie sped up, tugging Ellie so that Emma stumbled in her high heels. She bit back a smile of satisfaction. This was so typically Emma. She walked into a room and assumed everybody wanted a piece of her, therefore, any attention would be welcome. Maybe Ellie was too nice to put Emma in her place, but Lizzie was not. “I’m sure there are other people who need your help, Emma, but Ellie and I will be fine getting ready on our own.”

Lizzie gave an extra hard tug on Ellie’s arm so that they pulled away from Emma on an
oomph
. She ferried Ellie faster up the aisle toward the theater exit, to Emma’s cry of, “See you later, roomie!”

“She’s just trying to be nice,” Ellie said, reading Lizzie’s intentions exactly.

“She’s just trying to drive me crazy,” Lizzie said. They reached the crowd funneling out of the exit and were caught in the traffic jam, slowing to a snail’s pace. Lizzie looked back to see if Emma had followed, but she was chatting to a group of boys, tossing her sleek blond bob around and laughing. Flirtatiously laying her hand on the boys’ shoulders or against their arms. How did she do it so
naturally
? She wasn’t talking up just any group of boys, either. It was Dante and the group who had been sitting around him.

The friendly-looking boy with eyes like a puppy dog was saying something that made the whole group smile and made Emma clutch his shoulder as she keeled over in laughter. The only person in the group not smiling was Dante, who towered over the rest of them. Dante stared down at the phone in his hand—how rude!

“She’s really great at making people feel at ease,” Ellie said as she followed the direction of Lizzie’s gaze. “And with her, what you see is what you get, you know. It’s kind of nice.”

Lizzie felt nauseated. She turned around, ready to explain everything to Ellie—about Anne, about the position at the paper—but before she could—

“That’s Edward,” Ellie said—pointing to the cute boy with the puppy eyes.

“Don’t point!” Lizzie grabbed Ellie’s finger and dragged it down to her side. She didn’t know why she’d reacted so strongly, except she didn’t want to chance that Dante might see Ellie pointing. That Dante, who didn’t seem to care at all for the company he was keeping, might think she, Lizzie, cared or thought of or gave any credence to his existence whatsoever.

How was she going to keep a straight face during their interview? He obviously didn’t want to be a Jasta student. He obviously thought he was above everyone else. What made him think he deserved a feature in their
Gazette
?

At least Edward seemed friendly—seemed to know he was the intruder and was trying his best to be amiable. At least Edward—

“Wait, how do you know his name?” Lizzie asked. Had Ellie been out and about—without her?

“He came to our room,” Ellie said as they took another slow, sludgy step toward the exit.

“When? The boys were in our wing?”

“Not all of them,” Ellie said teasingly, but Lizzie wasn’t in the mood.

“No boys are allowed in the girls’ wing.”

“After ten,” Ellie clarified, quoting the new student handbook. “Besides, he was very nice. He came through and introduced himself to each and every girl.”

“Sounds like a flirt.”

“It was very polite,” Ellie insisted. “Very appropriate.” Her cornflower blue eyes flashed over to Edward and softened before coming back to Lizzie. “He’s friendly,” she said firmly.

“Well, the company he keeps is not.” Lizzie jerked her head toward Dante, who was now dispensing with all pretense of politeness and texting into his phone.

“Not everyone can have a friend as perfect as me,” Ellie said with a grin.

Lizzie smiled and exhaled with relief. She wasn’t sure why she’d been so anxious earlier. She and Ellie were still best friends, and it was going to be a perfect year. They’d been best friends not rooming together before and would be best friends again. Plus, she was managing editor of the
Gazette
and she was certain that by year’s end, she would have brought Bergie to her knees, garnering a few journalistic awards in the process.

The crowd moved another few inches and she and Ellie squeezed into the hall, where they could finally breathe. This exit had to be a fire hazard. Lizzie made a mental note to add it to her long list of possible investigative features for the year ahead.

They made their way back to the dorm wing and as they rounded the corner, Anne caught up with them, wringing her hands nervously as she fell into stride.

“I should be mad,” Anne blurted, “that you interfered. But it was perfect. Thank you.”

Lizzie shot her a smile. “I kind of knew you’d approve. You’re welcome.”

“Thank you for what?” Ellie asked, confused.

Anne blinked, as if seeing Ellie standing there for the first time. “For making the dance a Jane Austen dance. It was risky—the school might have hated it.”

“The school likes anything that gives them something to do,” Lizzie said. “A regular old dance was boring—but this? Costumes? Makeup? Theme? That’s worth getting excited for.”

“I’m sure you know it means a lot to me. Keeping the Jane Austen legacy strong.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Lizzie said—not sure why she felt the need to put Anne down in that moment, but she didn’t like the way Anne was looking at her—as if everything was okay between them now.

They stopped in the hall in front of their rooms and Anne looked at her expectantly.

Lizzie tightened her elbow where it looped in Ellie’s and gave Anne a pointed look. “I’ll see you later this afternoon in Journalism.”

Anne’s pace faltered. “Oh…okay.” She opened the door to their room and stepped inside alone.

Lizzie followed Ellie, trying not to feel bad. Roommates and allies were one thing. Friends were another. They couldn’t be friends—not after all those articles Lizzie had written about Anne’s family. No matter how sorry she felt for her, it didn’t change the fact that Anne had been perfectly happy benefiting from her status at the school.

“So Ellie…should we go to our tree?”

Ellie looked into the distance. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“But we always do it the first day.”

“One day won’t make a difference.”

But somehow, to Lizzie, it did.

Chapter Four

Lizzie threw open the door to the newsroom. Two great writers from last year had beat her there and were seated in the corner in front of one of the computers, scrolling through past editions.

“Congrats, editor,” they said. One raised her hand in a mimed tip-of-her-hat.

“Thanks, guys.” Lizzie took the seat at the computer station at the very front of the room—the only one with its back to the whiteboard. She couldn’t believe she was in this seat—the managing editor’s seat. There were so many things she loved about the paper, but so many ways it could be even better and finally, finally, she could make sure they were the best. “Email me your clips. I’m handing out assignments today—not at the end of the week like last year.”