Diamonds in the Rough

“You might.” Brett nodded and took a bite of his sandwich. “I’ve never done Habitat, so I wouldn’t know.”

“I’m excited to find out what it’s about,” she said. “But I still don’t understand why Adrian and your mom didn’t want me working at the coffee shop at the Diamond. I thought they would be proud that I wanted to work.”

“I understand why you’d think that.” Brett scratched his head, as if figuring out where to begin. “But school is your job. Getting into a top college like Stanford or one of the Ivies takes more than good grades and a great SAT score. Everyone applying has those, so colleges want to see dedication and leadership in other areas, too. Were you part of any clubs at your old school, did you play sports, or were you involved in the theater?”

“I tutored once a week at the student tutoring center, and I’m going to the first student tutoring meeting after school today.” Courtney’s cheeks heated, and she broke off a piece of her sandwich. “I had to keep my grades up while working as many hours as I could to help out my family. I didn’t have time for anything else.”

“I get that.” Brett placed his hand over hers, the heat from his skin sending electricity through Courtney’s body. Her breathing slowed, her head spinning from his touch.

It took everything in her to pull away, and she sipped her water, as if it could wash away her feelings for him. It was unfair and unkind to lead him on when they couldn’t be together.

Pain flashed across his face—she hated knowing that she’d hurt him. But it was gone a second later, and he continued with what he was saying, as if that moment had never happened.

“I know you could have written an essay about your situation that would have blown the admission councils away,” he said. “But you’re not in that position anymore. Now you’re attending one of the most elite private schools in the state, and you’ll be competing to get into the top colleges against students who go to similar schools all over the country. Out of the last graduating class from Goodman, twenty percent of the students went to Ivies, fifty percent went to top-tier schools that are almost as competitive, and the rest went to other selective schools. Adrian and my mom want you to be prepared.”

“That makes sense,” Courtney said, although it was a lot to take in. At least this conversation was keeping her thoughts away from how much she wanted Brett to put his hand on hers again, or how every glance at his lips made her flash back to when he’d kissed her at the grand opening. And how much she wanted him to kiss her again. “But I can’t imagine those girls who were gossiping about parties and fashion going to Ivy league schools.”

“They’re shallow,” Brett said. “But they’re not stupid. They get good grades, and their parents will either donate to the college they want their kid to get into—like Adrian did for Goodman—or hire ‘college admission strategists’ to boost their applications and give them a better chance at being accepted to top schools.”

The reminder of how Adrian had bought her and her sisters into Goodman by funding the new sports center made Courtney sad at the unfairness of it all. “What’s a ‘college admission strategist’?”

“What it sounds like,” Brett said. “Someone who knows what colleges want and will sit down with a student and his or her parents, analyze the student’s academic history and strategize how to create the most successful application possible. For a few grand, of course.”

“And then that student has a better chance at getting into the school they want over someone who can’t afford a strategist.” Courtney shook her head. “That’s not fair, is it?”

“It’s not fair, but it’s reality.” He shrugged. “I’m not the biggest fan of everyone at Goodman myself, but not everyone here is shallow. You’ll find your place.”

Courtney wished she could feel as confident about that as he sounded. “I’m starting to understand why you liked your public school better.”

“I preferred the people at my old school,” Brett corrected her. “The teachers at Goodman are fantastic—they love what they do—and the classes are better, because they’re smaller and discussion-based. Plus, I want to go to UCLA for their film program. If a college admissions strategist can help me get there, even though you’re right that the system isn’t fair, I can’t turn the opportunity down. Wouldn’t you do anything to get into Stanford?”

“I think so,” Courtney said, although the realization that she would probably give in to such an unfair system made her stomach sink. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe this is all happening. I always wanted to go to Stanford, but deep down I knew it wouldn’t be possible.”

“What do you mean?” He looked as if he genuinely cared about her response. She loved the way Brett listened because he wanted to hear what she had to say, and not because he was just waiting for his next opportunity to speak. It made him different from most people she knew. “Why didn’t you think it would be possible?”

“Because if I left, who would take care of my mom and Savannah?” she said. “I probably would have ended up at the local community college so I could live at home and continue helping out. But now, to be talking about Stanford like it’s a real possibility…. can’t wrap my head around the opportunities I have now and what it means for my future.”

“You would have realized it when Peyton gained access to her trust fund.” Brett leaned forward, his eyes staring deep into her soul. “This was always bound to happen to you, Courtney. It just happened sooner than expected.”

She was speechless, hardly able to think or breathe. Looking into each other’s eyes was so personal, and it made it too easy for her feelings for him to fight their way to the surface when she needed to bury them.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand why my mom refused help from Adrian,” she finally said, her voice wavering. “She never spoke about him—it was like he did something so horrible that she wanted to pretend he didn’t exist. I know she must have been worried out of her mind when I was kidnapped as a baby, and it sounds like she blamed Adrian for that happening, but I was returned home safely. There has to be more to it than that.”

Brett’s jaw clenched. “Now that the secret’s out about Adrian being your father, she’ll have to explain.”

“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe she’s being irrational. She never has been the most mentally stable person. Which isn’t her fault, but it’s still frustrating.”

They ate in silence for a few seconds, and Courtney contemplated what she would say to her mom when she was released from inpatient treatment next month. They’d never been close—she’d always felt like her mom loved her least out of her sisters. It would be a difficult conversation, and she couldn’t imagine how it would go. Her throat tightened just from trying.

“When did you say Habitat met again?” Brett asked, zapping her out of her thoughts.

“Thursdays during lunch block.” Courtney ran a hand through her hair and tried to relax, glad he’d changed the subject. “Why? Are you thinking of joining?”

“I’ll go to the first meeting with you and check it out. If I join, maybe I’ll make a short video about the house we build.”

“I would love that,” she said, meaning it. His face lit up, and she wanted to grab his hand, to move her chair closer to his, to lean into him and rest her head on his shoulder and enjoy the view of the lake…but she had to stop these thoughts. If she wanted to continue being around him—which she not only did but wouldn’t have a choice about once their parents were married—she had to make him believe she didn’t see him that way. So despite every muscle in her body begging her not to, she leaned away from him and said, “It would be nice to have a friend join with me.”

His face fell when she said the word friend, and the word tasted sour on her tongue. But then he sat up straighter and moved his chair closer to hers, and she knew he wasn’t going to leave it at that. She couldn’t back away, or get up in the pretense of having to be somewhere else, or do anything to discourage him…. She needed to know what he had to say. Not knowing would be positively painful.

“We both know that there’s more than friendship between us.” He rested his fingers on top of her hand, which she’d stupidly left on the armrest closest to him, and her skin heated, her breaths coming faster. “I know you’re trying to fight it, but, Courtney…I can tell that you want to be with me as much as I want to be with you. And there’s no reason for us not to be together. We could even be together in secret. No one has to know.”

His eyes blazed, daring her to be honest with him. She yearned to say yes, to be brave and follow her feelings, no matter the consequences.

But she couldn’t forget what Rebecca—Brett’s mom and her soon-to-be stepmother—had told her after seeing her and Brett kiss in public. Rebecca had taken her to brunch at the Grande Café in the Diamond the day after the grand opening, just the two of them, so that they could talk about it….

“It seems like you and Brett are getting along well.” Rebecca had been the one to start the conversation.

“We have a lot in common.” Courtney fidgeted. It wouldn’t be long until Rebecca mentioned the kiss—the kiss with Brett that had been incredible, but that she’d given in to despite Adrian’s rule that she and her sisters must not get romantically involved with their stepbrother-­to-be.

Rebecca nodded. “My son is a wonderful boy, and I would be proud of him dating someone as responsible as you.”

Courtney’s heart jumped. Maybe Rebecca wasn’t going to forbid her from dating Brett?

“Thank you,” she said, hoping the conversation would continue on this positive note. If Rebecca approved of Courtney being with Brett, she could convince Adrian to revoke his rule.

“However,” Rebecca said, and Courtney’s stomach dropped, her fork pausing midair, “while I know overcoming your feelings for Brett will be hard, Adrian and I have our reasons for not allowing this to continue.”

Courtney placed her fork down, her appetite gone. “But you said you would be happy if Brett and I were together?”

“I said I would be proud if he dated someone as responsible as you,” Rebecca repeated. “But we’re about to become a family.” She watched Courtney closely, as if begging her to understand.

But Courtney hadn’t defied the rules just to be put back into place. If she wanted Rebecca to understand where she was coming from, she would have to be vocal about her feelings. It would be awkward, because she didn’t know Rebecca well, but Brett was worth it.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” She spoke quietly, looking down at her barely touched brunch. “The connection between us….t’s real.”

Pity shone in Rebecca’s eyes. “I remember as a teen feeling like each relationship I was in would last forever, but unfortunately, it doesn’t always work like that.” She looked off into the distance, as if remembering something. “High school relationships end for various reasons, even if both people involved are fantastic individuals and have great times together. After those relationships end, it’s healthy to put that person in the past and move on with your life. But if you and Brett dated and it didn’t work out, you wouldn’t be able to put each other in the past, because you would also be step-siblings. It would strain the family, and it would put both of you through an incredible amount of pain.”

But it wouldn’t be like that between Courtney and Brett…. They were different. She couldn’t ignore her feelings for him because they might break up in the future.

On the other hand, Rebecca’s logic was irrefutable. If they did break up, they would be forced to see each other often. They would be a part of the same family. Every time they were around each other would be incredibly painful. Courtney was already dealing with that now, and they’d only been “together” for a week. What if they were together for months, and then had to go through something similar to what they were going through now? It would be torturous.

The smartest long-term decision was to push aside her feelings for Brett to save herself from that hurt in the future.

So after talking with Rebecca, Courtney had had a similar conversation with Brett, during which she’d explained the reasons they couldn’t date. He’d avoided her for weeks.

Now he was practically begging her to give them another chance. But despite wanting to give in—to say yes, she wanted to be together, and see how happy those words made him—she couldn’t do it. She would disappoint the family, and the pain she would go through if it didn’t work out between them scared her. Her sisters believed she was strong, that she could remain levelheaded in the face of anything, but that was only because she kept herself from making unwise decisions to begin with.

“What do you say?” Brett asked again. “Do you want to see where this leads?”

“We can’t.” Courtney pulled her hand away and laid it in her lap. Despite the desert heat, her skin felt cold where it had been touching his.

He sat back and scowled. “Is that really how you feel, or do you just not want to disappoint Adrian?”

“Not wanting to disappoint Adrian and your mom is part of it,” Courtney said, her voice low. “But you know my main reason.”

“How if it doesn’t work out, we’ll never get the space we need because we’ll be in the same family.” Brett repeated what she’d told him after that brunch with Rebecca.

“Yes.” She nodded, her throat tight from forcing the word out. “We’re not just two people who happened to fall for each other. In less than a year our parents will be married. If it doesn’t work between us, it could get extremely messy. We would still have to see each other, and it would be painful. Like what we’re going through now times a thousand.”

“So you do still have feelings for me.” His eyes gleamed triumphantly, and she couldn’t lie to him and deny it. “I knew it. But there’s another way to look at this…the way I choose to look at this. What if it does work out? Wouldn’t it be worth it?”

For a brief moment, Courtney imagined pushing aside logic and acting on her feelings. She loved spending time with Brett, and trusted that whatever was between them was real and deserved a chance. Maybe it would work, and maybe it wouldn’t. If it didn’t work out, she could worry about it then. That’s what Peyton would do. Sometimes Courtney wished she could be daring like her older sister, and let loose and enjoy the present without worrying about the future.

She could wish it all she wanted, but it wouldn’t change who she was.

“We can’t risk it.” Courtney forced herself to sound strong. “Besides, if we dated secretly, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. I would worry about Adrian and Rebecca finding out, and about how we would never be able to get space from each other if it didn’t end well. I can’t put myself through that.”

“I can’t imagine wanting to end things with you,” he said, looking at her like he truly believed it. “So you have no reason to be afraid of that happening. I promise.”

Her heart melted at how undeniably sweet that was, and she trusted that, in this moment, he meant every word.

“That’s how you feel now.” She blinked away tears. “But you don’t know if you’ll still feel that way weeks from now, or months from now. It’s not a promise I could hold you to.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, taking her by surprise. It was what she’d wanted him to say, but now that he had, she felt as empty as before—maybe more so. “Not that we can’t be together,” he clarified, “but that we can’t know what will happen between us in the future. If we don’t give this a chance, we’ll never know. And I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t live with that. The only way to know is to try.”

Courtney’s heart raced; she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take before she caved. If he didn’t stop pushing her, she would have only two options—give in and ruin whatever trust she was building with Adrian and Rebecca and risk putting herself through undeniable heartbreak, or distance herself from Brett and not even be friends with him. And as much as imagining them being only friends hurt, it had to be better than nothing. Right?

“You’re making this so hard for me,” she said. “But you know my reasons, and I hope you can understand and respect them.”

“I understand them,” he said, although the determination hadn’t left his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I agree with them.”

He dropped it after that, although she couldn’t help feeling that it was only for now, and he wasn’t giving up. Which should have frustrated her. She should make him promise to drop it completely, and not push her again.

But she couldn’t do that. Because, while she wanted to believe everything she was saying, she still wondered what would happen if she could set aside her inhibitions and see what they could have together.

* * *

The student tutoring meeting started fifteen minutes after last period, but Courtney didn’t want to be late, so she went straight there. One other person had the same idea: Madison Lockhart. Courtney didn’t dislike many people, but she hadn’t liked Madison since she’d kissed Damien in front of Savannah and made Savannah cry. Even worse, Madison hadn’t seemed sorry about it.

Madison glanced at Courtney and draped her long dark hair in front of her shoulders. “If you’re signing up to get tutored, you’ll have to wait until Friday,” she said, her voice so fakely sweet that it made Courtney want to roll her eyes. “This meeting is for the tutors only.”

“Then I’m in the right place.” Courtney sat down, leaving an empty seat between her and Madison, and dropped her bag onto the floor next to her feet. “I tutored at my last school, and I want to tutor here, too.”

“You can’t just decide to be a tutor,” Madison said. “You need recommendations from teachers you’ve completed courses with at Goodman. Since you’re new, that means you’ll have to wait until at least next semester.”

Courtney matched Madison’s fake smile at the victory she knew was coming, which was petty, but she deserved it. “Over the summer I emailed the teacher in charge of student tutoring with recommendations from my teachers at Fairfield,” she said. “She looked them over and said she would be happy to have me as an English tutor for lower classmen.”

“Oh.” Madison frowned. “Well, if you only tutor in En­glish, you won’t be working with your future stepbrother.”

“Brett?” Courtney’s heart leaped. “I didn’t know you knew each other.”

“I tutored him in bio.” She tossed her hair back and smiled, as if enjoying a private joke. “We had one-on-one tutoring sessions in the private rooms all last semester, and let’s just say we got to know each other pretty well.”

“How well?” Courtney’s chest tightened at what Madison was hinting.

But Madison couldn’t have been involved with Brett. He would have said something, and besides, he would never be interested in Madison. She was the type of Goodman snob he didn’t hang out with—the type of girl who was ignorant of everything outside of her one-percenter bubble. What could they have in common?

“I got to know him well enough,” Madison said. “When two people spend that much time together, they form some sort of connection. We hung out a few times over the summer, too. I’m surprised he hasn’t mentioned it.”

Courtney’s fingers clenched into fists, and she wanted to demand that Madison explain what she meant. But before she had a chance, three more girls walked in, followed by the teacher.

Throughout the introductory session, Courtney kept imagining Madison tutoring Brett in one of the individual rooms, the two of them getting to know each other until they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. And Madison had more experience than Courtney—Courtney’s only kiss had been with Brett at the grand opening. (There was also the time Oliver had tried to kiss her on the way home from the charity event held by his mom that she’d been forced to attend with him, but that didn’t count.)

The images of Madison and Brett in a small room together—using the table to study biology in a way quite different from reading about it in a textbook—made Courtney’s mind fuzzy and unfocused through the entire meeting. She barely heard a word.

If Madison had said that stuff to distract her, it had worked. But Courtney wasn’t having it. She also didn’t trust Madison to be honest.

There was only one way to find out the truth: she had to ask Brett herself.

* * *

Once back at the Diamond, Courtney knocked on Brett’s door. She needed to speak with him in person—this wasn’t something she wanted to ask via text message or over the phone. And it wasn’t a far trek, since their condos were across the hall.

Brett’s eyebrows shot up when he opened the door. Then he smiled, as if he thought her being there meant she’d changed her mind about them being together. Her stomach twisted at how off guard he would be when he found out the reason for her visit.

Courtney took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Approaching Brett was the right thing to do—it was the only thing she could do to keep the what-ifs from driving her crazy and messing up her focus in school. She was here to make sure she stayed on track academically.

It would be easier to convince herself of that if her heart hadn’t started pounding the moment she saw Brett.

“Hey.” He opened the door wider and motioned for her to come in. She did, keeping her hands gripped around the straps of her backpack so he couldn’t see them shaking.

His condo was nearly identical to the one Courtney shared with her sisters—a foyer, living room with a panoramic view of the Strip, dining area, kitchen and a door to the master bedroom, all in a sleek contemporary style. The only difference was that his didn’t have the extra hallway that led to the other two bedrooms.

“Are you busy?” Courtney asked.

“Just watching The Walking Dead,” he replied. Courtney glanced at the ninety-inch television—the same size as the one in her and her sisters’ living room—which was paused on an image of a fierce black woman swinging a sword at a bloodied, decaying monster. “I’m on season three.”

“I’ve never seen it,” she said. “Well, I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know much about it. I never used to have time for TV.” She glanced out the window and reminded herself why she was there: to ask him about whatever had happened between him and Madison.

But he spoke again before she had a chance.

“I have all the seasons on DVD. Now that you have more free time, we could marathon them from the beginning.”

Her breath caught. Was he asking her as a date? Or as friends? Either way, marathon watching any show with Brett would be a bad idea. That would mean being alone with him for hours, and she couldn’t trust herself to repress her feelings for him for that long.

She glanced at the corpse monster on-screen again and cringed. “It looks…violent. And gruesome.”

“It definitely can be.” He picked up the remote and powered off the TV. “But it’s not bad when you remind yourself that it’s makeup and effects. Plus, even though it’s set in the zombie apocalypse, the essence of the show is about humanity—­how people adapt and react in extreme situations, having to work together to survive with people they would have never encountered in their normal lives.”

“It sounds like some of the dystopian books I read,” Courtney said.

His eyes glinted with amusement. “So you don’t have time for TV, but you do have time for reading?”

“Always.” Courtney lowered her hands from the straps of her bag. “I borrowed books from the library at school so often that the librarian knew me by name. I can’t fall asleep at night without reading at least a chapter, but I usually read more. And while I know I shouldn’t, I sometimes read before doing my homework, to recenter my mind so I can focus.”

“That’s why I watch an episode of a TV show when I get home from school.” Brett’s voice rose, sounding so excited that they had this small thing in common. “But I should read more. Whenever I read a book, I usually enjoy it. But there are so many movies and television series I want to watch that I’ll never have time for them all in my lifetime, so I go to those first.”