Read The Last Academy for Free Online

tennis courts to say hi to Brynn.
    Well, mostly to say hi to Brynn. The girls’ tennis team played in the fall, boys in the spring. So it was girls hanging around the courts. Except for this incredibly perfect senior boy I might have mentioned: Mark Elliott.
    He came in from the far field with a herd of lacrosse players. But as the other boys went on toward their dorms, Mark dumped his field gear outside the tennis courts, changed his shoes, and let himself into an empty court. As the girls’ team trickled away from the tennis area, he grabbed a racket and began practicing his serve. I sat down on a bench and pretended to watch Brynn finish up, but every now and then I’d sneak glances at the guy.
    “Why does he practice so much?” I asked Brynn, when she came off the court. She was wearing a bridal veil of sweat. That girl was a warrior about tennis.
    “Why? You like him?” she asked.
    “No!” I felt myself get hot in the face. Brynn squirtedwater in her mouth from a bottle, swished it around, and spit it out. I was a little grossed out. She usually seemed so … I dunno. Southern. It was like watching Scarlett O’Hara scratch her armpit.
    “Rumor has it, Mark’s brother is nationally ranked,” Brynn said.
    “Who’s his brother?” I asked, kind of overwhelmed that there might be twice as much Elliott hotness walking around campus. Lately, I’d found myself thinking of him as “MarkElliott,” like it was all one word. Like he was a brand name.
    “Doesn’t go here,” Brynn said. I didn’t understand. But I did know Brynn’s sly smile meant she was onto me. I shut my trap. There is nothing worse than someone knowing you like somebody.
    Brynn wiped her face with a towel. “His brother lives in Nueva Vista with their parents. Mark’s the one who got sent away.”
    I felt all at once supergrateful that Brynn had told me a tidbit to add to my meager MarkElliott fact collection, and stabby with jealousy that she knew so much about him. I mean, she called him “Mark” like it was nothing.
    I had a sudden, perfect vision of Mark Elliott pouring his heart out to Brynn late at night on the tennis court.What guy could not be in love with Brynn? She always stood gracefully and smiled with the right amount of teeth showing. Her hair was always so … bouncy. Also, she had a restless look about her, like she would get into trouble just to amuse herself. I squirmed with embarrassment for even thinking I was cool enough to like Mark Elliott when people like Brynn roamed the earth.
    “I’m bored,” Brynn groaned into her water bottle, before taking a long swig.
    “Umm … Sorry?” I said.
    “I know. Let’s go swimming.” She waved toward the pool and added in a conspirator’s whisper, “Bet Mark would join if we asked.”
    As soon as she said it, my lungs burned and my nose stung. I shook my head, trying to breathe normally when my body wanted to gasp for air.
    “Borrrrred,” Brynn argued, like it was my fault.
    “I don’t like the water,” I managed.
    She snorted her disinterest. “Whatevs. Come with me.” She spun her racket in her hand, walking off. She’s so much like Lia , I thought. Which meant Brynn would probably always be doing something exciting. I could tell by the sassy flip of her tennis racket she knew we’d be goodfriends. I mean, leaders need followers just as much as the other way around. But after what had happened back home, there was this splinter of anger in me. People like Lia and Brynn had a streak of selfishness in them, I understood now.
    I almost didn’t go. But when I glanced around, the courts were deserted. Mark Elliott pummeled a tennis ball across the way. Off in the distance, the pool glimmered like a gem. And I have to admit, I was curious to see what Brynn was up to. I followed her.
    Walking in the almost-sunset light, I was struck by how beautiful campus was. Jasmine hedges grew around the buildings, so everything smelled like flowers and fresh-cut grass.