Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Having just completed a seemingly impossible physics test, the adrenaline continues to thrum through my veins. In approximately ten minutes, I would find out whether there was a point in deciding to outright say that I was correct, if there was a point in putting one hundred percent into a test: something I had never done before.
Was I worried? No. If I didn’t receive one hundred percent, it was the fault of the teacher marking it, not mine.
“Ms Grambs?” The voice of the principal said. Glancing at the clock, I frowned. There were still about nine minutes before I’d have my results back.
“Yes?” I replied, watching the teacher carefully. From what I’d seen of the word, being perceptive was one of the more important qualities to have.
“Someone is here to see you.” Now, often, when I have nothing to think about, I contemplate the pros and cons of situations. Currently, it was the pros and cons of withholding information. Pros? Keeping the people around you in their toes, keeping them attentive, giving you the power in the situation. Cons? It hurts like a b**** to be in the other end of the string.
“Ms Grambs, would you happen to know who the Hawthornes are?” The principal asked. I shook my head, to which he shook his head sympathetically. “A man of the last name Hawthorne has come to see you.”
I paused. “Ah.” I knew so the Hawthorne’s were, I hadn’t been living under a rock, although the house I lived in was often considered one. However, what a Hawthorne wanted to do with me? I had no idea.
Walking in, my gaze fell upon a handsome, dark-haired guy. While it was apparent that his suit clearly cost more than my sister made in a month, he wore out the way one might wear one of their old pullovers: in a way that was comfortable rather than proper. Of course, the fact that he pulled it off and made it look brilliant meant that no one cared. The blazer was slung on the chair, his white shirt was completely untucked and his tie sat loosely around his neck.
“Ms Grambs. Pleasure to meet you,” he said, in a way that made me want to believe him, yet also check if he were on drugs. “You might be wondering why I’m here.”
“No, having rich teenagers appear to speak to me at school is a completely normal occurrence,” I replied, to which he smirked. Perhaps that was a point to me.
“I’m sure it is,” he sat down, perhaps in a manner slightly inappropriate of a public high school’s principal’s office. “Now, I’m going to place a completely hypothetical situation in front of you, and I want you to tell me how probable this is.”
“Alright.”
“You have been receiving letters from my grandfather for quite some time. You know the contents, however you choose to ignore these letters because you believe they are a scam, the thought courtesy of your older sister and her boyfriend.” He uncrossed his legs and sat manspreading, his elbows on his knees and his hands intertwined. Ah. An intelligent, rich, handsome guy. Not exactly a normal occurrence - interesting.
“Well then, I’d say it is probable, to a certain degree.” He seemed to be almost smiling. Almost.
“Then you’d understand why you are being asked to move?”
“All I’ve understood, Mr Hawthorne, is that I’m being told to meet a billionaire, not why I must do so.”
“Well, Ms Kylie Grambs, with my grandfather, it is often impossible to comprehend the why’s and the who’s. Those, we simply must understand on our own.” I watched him for a minute. The switch to my middle name as well had clearly been a tactic, but it had unnerved me nevertheless.
“You do understand that my sister shall also be coming?”
“Her boyfriend will have taken care of that. I trust that you now know who her boyfriend really is?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He continued to smirk. I knew. He knew I knew. I didn’t like that.
“Yes.”
“Splendid. Shall we leave immediately?” When I’d met him, I’d thought he was a little on edge. Now I was starting to think he was full-blown insane.
“Might we wait two minutes? I have a result I was hoping for.”
“Ah. Of course.” He leaned back into the seat, as if it was a throne rather than a shabby, moth-eaten leather chair.
A minute passed by with unnatural silence. Then another one. He watched me carefully, with me imitating his action . Then-
“Ms Grambs,” my physics teacher greeted me stiffly. “It appears we were mistaken. Full marks.”
Smiling, I turned to the Hawthorne, who’s eyebrow was raised as he watched the teacher. He seemed to make a judgement about me before picking up his blazer and holding out his hand.
“Shall we?” I glanced at the physics teacher, who still seemed bitter about my managing to achieve a top mark on his seemingly impossible test. The Hawthorne’s green eyes seemed brighter, and I could almost see the cogs turning behind his rather messy dark hair.
“Alright.” We walked out the room, him walking in front of me with quick, precise strides. “How are we getting there?”
That got him to smile properly. Pulling out a set of shades, he took his tie off properly. He looked almost drunk like that.
“My private jet.”