AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He’s just getting dressed. You know what teenagers are like. It takes them forever,” Mr. Winslow says with a laugh that sounds forced.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll be worth the wait, he’s such a handsome boy, just like his father.” As she speaks, Mom loops her arm through his and tugs him over to the couch. Following her lead, Mr. Winslow sinks down beside her and they start to talk about people I don’t know and places I’ve never been.
Glancing around, I move toward one of the empty couches and sink down onto it. I know who Gulliver Winslow is. I might be invisible at school, but that doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to the social hierarchy. Gulliver and his friends are Elites, the top tier of our school. I remember the day the graduating seniors had announced their replacements and how smug and unsurprised the four boys had been to hear their names being announced. I also remember the epic tantrum Penelope had thrown the moment we got home about not being given the title that she so desperately coveted.
To be honest, it didn’t surprise me that my sister wasn’t named Elite. She might be popular, but she’s not liked. Gulliver and his friends are rich, powerful, popular, and universally adored. If my sister had been put in charge of the student body, she’d have manipulated and controlled everyone like a dictator, hiding behind a Barbie façade.
But our standing Elite rule quietly, because even at eighteen, they’re still big fish, and everyone knows it. High school might be for kids, but the connections you make there last a lifetime, and no one wants to piss off powerful people.
Gulliver Winslow is the only son and heir to the entire Winslow fortune, but beyond knowing who he is and understanding his social position at school, I know nothing about him, or what kind of relationship he has with my sister.
When I’m not taking her classes for her, I make sure to stay as hidden as possible so that no one sees both me and Penelope in the same place, so I know absolutely nothing about my sister’s friendships or relationships. But to my knowledge, Gulliver and my sister aren’t friends or anything more, despite my parents’ obvious hope that he’ll become their new son-in-law.
There are fifteen old money families listed on my great-grandfather’s will, whose blood he deemed blue enough to allow them to run his empire. From those families, there are nearly forty unattached sons who range from the age of fourteen all the way up to nearly fifty. All but three of those eligible sons either currently attend Green Acres Academy or attended in the past and have now moved on to equally prestigious colleges. My great-grandfather was a stickler for tradition. Every member of the Rhodes family has attended GAA since the school opened and will continue to attend for the rest of eternity if he has his way, and given the ten thousand clauses in his will, he probably will.
Reginald Rhodes the Second wasn’t a stupid man. He discussed his desire to form an alliance with each of the families listed on his approved husband material list. What each family didn’t realize was that they weren’t the only ones he’d had that conversation with.
For the last three years, Penelope and my parents have been living the longest-running series of The Bachelorette, with parties, events, and dinners with the families who are all competing for her fortune.
To be honest, from what I know about these events, my sister doesn’t even really need to attend. These shindigs aren’t about her falling in love or forging a connection with someone, they’re about the families negotiating what they’ll give my parents in exchange for my sister and her inheritance.
Everything about my great-grandfather’s will is archaic, right down to the fact that Penelope has to be a virgin when she gets married. Despite my mom coaching her on how to flirt and toy with these boys, she’s never allowed to be alone with any of them, just in case someone gets tempted or tries to force an alliance.
The really sad thing is that no one cares if Penelope likes any of these guys or if they like her, because that’s not what’s important. This is a business decision, plain and simple.
Marriage is legal in our state at sixteen, but because there are so many other clauses in the will, none of the families are willing to commit to an engagement until Penelope has fulfilled all of her requirements to inherit and graduated from an Ivy League college.
It’s fucking barbaric that my parents have discussed over dinner that while Penelope has to remain chaste and untouched until the wedding, she shouldn’t expect her future husband not to sow his wild oats. My mom actually suggested Penelope should arrange for some of her friends to be available to satisfy any urges the guys may have.
Mr. Winslow commented that Gulliver was looking forward to not having to share Penelope with the other guys tonight. So, I wonder if this is the first time they’ve been in a position to have one-on-one time together. If it is, it explains why my parents weren’t prepared to tell them she was sick.
Allowing my gaze to wander, I take in the awful living room again. Everything is white; only now when I look a little closer, it’s actually several shades of white that weirdly complement each other while still being stark and impersonal. Perhaps cold and sterile was the design brief, but I doubt it.
Across the room, my gaze lands on a painting on the wall that appears to be made up of thousands of blobs of differing shades of white. Before I can figure out if I’m supposed to see anything beyond the dots, the door flies open, and a suit-clad Gulliver bursts into the room. His hair is still a little damp at the ends, and his skin is flushed like he just climbed out of the shower.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. I had a meeting after school that ran a little longer than I expected,” he says, addressing the room, before striding toward my dad. “Mr. Rhodes, it’s so lovely to see you again.”
Dad rises from his chair and reaches out to shake Gulliver’s hand. “Not to worry, and please call me Barnaby.”
Flashing my dad a polished but obviously fake smile, Gulliver nods, “Thank you, Barnaby.” Turning to greet my mom next, he lifts her hand into the air and presses a kiss to her skin, just like his father did to me. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Rhodes.”
Mom preens, lifting her free hand to rest against her chest as she giggles. “Gulliver, darling, you’re such a flirt, and you really must call me Trudy.”
Winking playfully, he releases her and quickly nods to his dad, who flashes him an indecipherable look, tipping his chin in my direction.
My eyes widen and my hands start to tremble as Gulliver turns his attention on me. The moment his back is to our parents, he studies me, all of the playful cordiality of only moments ago disappearing from his eyes as he approaches.
I consider standing, but my legs feel shaky, so I stay where I am and wait for him to come to me. When he reaches me, his cool hand takes mine and lifts it to his lips just like he did for my mother. Only instead of smiling, his lips are in a flat, hard line, and he scowls as he presses a barely-there kiss to my hand.
“Penelope,” he murmurs politely against my skin. “A pleasure as always.”
An instant later, he drops my hand and turns away, excluding me as he engages my father in conversation.
What the hell was that? My heart is racing, and my breathing feels strained and ragged. I’ve seen Gulliver at a distance before, but never close up. He and his friends make an imposing impact as a group, but this is the first time I’ve realized how intimidating Gulliver is on his own.
His cheekbones are high, and his jaw is chiseled and square. His features are classically handsome, and I’d almost call him pretty if he wasn’t so intense. From across the room, it’s easy to see how tall he is, towering over my dad, and despite the suit that screams CEO, he’s built like an athlete, although I don’t think he plays any sports. His hair is an inky black color, and there’s a hint of black ink peeking out of the collar of his shirt. But it’s his eyes that are so dark they almost look black, depthless, and silently judging me that frighten me the most.
Do my sister and Gulliver have a relationship beyond the bizarre game our families are playing? Does he know I’m not her?
