From the Top (Central State)

  Published: 2022

  Published by: Jaqueline Snowe

  Copyright © 2022, Jaqueline Snowe

  Cover Design: Dany Snowe

  Editing: Katherine McIntyre

  Formatting: Jennifer Laslie

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author. For more information, please contact Jaqueline at www.jaquelinesnowe.com.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, dialogue, and description are of the author’s imagination and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Bonus Chapter

  Also by Jaqueline Snowe:

  About the Author

  FROM THE TOP

  Cami Simpson is the ‘it girl’—at least until a string of terrible decisions leads to no boyfriend, no captainship of the dance team, and no fancy apartment. Due to a mold outbreak at her place, she’s forced to relocate to a co-ed dorm as a senior. And to top it off, she finds out she’s at risk of not graduating due to an error in her schedule. Talk about the worst senior year ever.

  Frederick Brady the IV would never admit the massive crush he once had on the dance darling. Not to anyone. They’d almost had a moment a year ago, but she crushed him, so she’s the last person he wants to live next to. It doesn’t matter though. He’s on his way out to an internship and almost done with school where he can leave his heartbreak and data foes behind.

  Neither expected to form a friendship or know what to do about their insane chemistry. With late nights, insides jokes, and the rare comfort they find in each other… lines blur, and the popular girl gets with the nerdy guy. Only, Freddie’s done this before and knows how it ends. His insecurities clash with Cami’s need to be picked first, so when Freddie has to choose where to attend his internship, he can either pick the job or the girl. And for the guy who’s set on protecting his heart, well, he might break hers in the process.

  CHAPTER

  ONE

  Cami

  When it rains, it pours.

  Except this time, the water hit my mascara, so when I faced my dance coach, I rivaled a drowned raccoon. It didn't suit me. Not one bit. The walk to my coach’s office in a downpour was a clear sign of a bad omen.

  I had a reputation to uphold, and looking like a soaking wet rodent wasn’t the way to do it, but I could fix myself up before going back out in public. Right now, I had bigger concerns.

  “I’m not going to be the captain,” I said, making sure I heard her clearly. I’d busted my ass to lead the dance team for the last three years, and I had plans. I had a vision. My fucking mood board was plastered on my bedroom wall with all the ideas and mission statements to live by. Cami Simpson— captain of the dance team. It had a ring to it, but as Coach Audrey lowered her gaze and slumped her shoulders, I knew. I knew in my gut her decision was final.

  “Why?” I asked, my voice taking on the dangerously low tone that was a dead giveaway for the simmering frustration boiling inside me. I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my head to the side. One thing I’d learned early on was to never let anyone see your insides. Coach Audrey might’ve crushed my very soul with her choice, but she’d get nothing but indifference from me. Life was way easier when everyone assumed you were untouchable.

  “Because Daniella exemplifies what it means to dance, serve, and lead. Your recent incidents put our team in the spotlight, Cami. Not in a good way.” She wore disappointment on her sleeves, and I couldn’t find it in me to feel bad.

  Did people think I didn’t understand I was on a rocky path? Did they just believe I was stupid and naive? They did. They saw a pretty face, killer dance moves, and the tight uniform and assumed I was a bendy little bimbo. I let them believe that too, so it was partially my fault that it was the go-to judgement for me.

  My twin sister had the brains, and I had the boobs.

  My eye twitched, and I arched my perfectly drawn brow. Yes, I did some dumb shit, but after a recent scare with a date, I’d backed off. I didn’t say any of that though because Coach didn’t know about that stuff. “I’m not allowed to make a mistake?”

  Her lips pressed together, and she shook her head, causing my heart to beat faster and my hands to clench into fists at my sides. “Not like this.”

  The latest incident wasn’t even my fault. Not really. Someone had handed me their drink to hold onto for a photo. Sure, it was outside the bar’s patio, so within two seconds an officer saw me, and bam. Public Drinking citation. I gritted my teeth and tried a different approach. “Coach, that was—“

  “I’m sorry.” She pressed her lips tight together for a second. “You work hard. I know you do, but I’m not changing my mind.” Audrey sighed and fidgeted with the ends of her fish-tail braid She was adorable in every sense of the word but intelligent as hell and tolerated no bullshit. She’d been the queen bee of her high school and dance squad, and even now, as my shoulders hunched and my stomach rolled with heartbreak, I couldn’t fault her logic.

  It was a common theme these days. Me not being enough. Not smart enough. Not leadership material. Not the kinda girl you bring home to meet the parents. And until recently, my twin sister thought I was the kind of person who would steal guys from her. My throat tightened, and I pursed my lips, refusing to break down. I was a Simpson. We were ice cold and tough. “So that’s it. Three years of busting my ass and it goes to the junior.”

  It was like my brain stopped working. I knew I should leave, should just walk out her office door and cool down, but I kept poking the fire. Pushing. I’d dreamed of being captain of Central’s dance team since I was a preteen. I’d visit campus where my dad coached and watch them practice, buying their calendar and hanging it in my room. All those years wanting this, and it was taken away from me. By fucking Daniella Donavan.

  Audrey narrowed her eyes. “You’re going to respect my decision and Daniella.”

  “Seems like a threat, Coach,” I fired back, unable to stop myself. Even though my heart pounded against my ribs and my eyes prickled, I couldn’t shut my mouth. Did she not care how this tore me up inside? “I’m one of the best dancers on the squad. It’s the truth.”

  She groaned, that sound worse than anything she’d said so far. It was filled with the disappointment I’d heard so many times before. I straightened my shoulders back, pushing away the pinpricks over my body that would surely come. I could handle it. I had to.

  “Cami, you have all the talent in the world, but the way you attract trouble holds you back. I can’t fix that. Only you can.”

  My temples throbbed from how hard I clenched my jaw. No response was better sometimes. Made people nervous. The silence. The eye contact that went on two seconds too long.

  Audrey didn’t flinch though
. She eyed her phone and jutted her chin toward the door. “I have to meet with the director in a few minutes. Will I see you at boot camp next week?”

  Boot camp was the kickoff for the school year and one of my favorite things in the world. 24/7 dance, teammates, and working muscles. Sweat and glitter and collaboration. However, with the new turn of events, the magic dulled. I’d planned on running bootcamp as the captain—all the bonding activities and drills and pep talks. Plotting our goals as a squad and how we could support each other. Having to sit through Daniella leading it? I was close to crying, and I needed to get the fuck out of there. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

  I brushed past Audrey and went straight to the bathroom nearby. I focused on taking deep breaths as I reapplied my red lipstick, wiped under my eyes, and smudged the mascara to give myself a smoky eye look. My chest constricted, but I powered through. Once that was fixed, I made sure my crop top stopped above my belly button. With my short cut-off shorts, always black, and my hair falling into waves on both sides, I had my uniform on. That was what my dad always called it.

  It gave the impression I was unflappable, and I preferred it that way. Mean girls never went away after high school, and displaying weakness was unacceptable. Being vulnerable meant someone could use it against you, so I held my nose up high and straightened my shoulders. The midwestern summer air was thick and heavy after the rainstorm, but that was why I owned so much black--never showed you sweating. My conversation with Coach stood at the forefront of my mind, but no real decision took root. Would I actually quit, or did I just need her to want me?

  Story of my fucking life. I just wanted to be wanted. By my parents. Friends. Boyfriends. My sister. Damn. Now dance? The squad had been my saving grace, and now it was gone.

  I smiled at some of the football players jogging down the sidewalk and winked when one whistled at me. I liked attention. Sue me. Always had. Probably always would. Some might say it had to do with my upbringing where my sister got all the academic accolades and then the divorce… what a fucking mess.

  That relationship shit? No thank you. Dating? Flirting? Hooking up? Yeah, I’d do that all day, but committing to someone and opening your soul for them? Made me gag. I’d take my flings any day over a boyfriend every single time, even though people judged me for it. I was always being stereotyped though—my makeup, my clothes, my looks, and my dancing.

  Haters were always gonna hate. Might as well enjoy myself while they dissed me.

  “Ms. Simpson?” A middle-aged woman with graying hair stopped me as I entered my kick-ass apartment building. I moved in two weeks ago, and it was the dream—right in the center of campus where there was always a party nearby. The bricked walls were beautiful, and it had a clean, fresh carpet smell. The natural light was top-notch, and I’d even bought a plant.

  “Yes, ma’am?” I said, putting on my smile. It was my show-smile. The one I used when we danced at games or had a photoshoot. I knew exactly how to tilt my head and pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth to prevent double chins.

  She blinked. “U-um, did you get a call from us?”

  I frowned. “No?”

  I scanned my phone, and yes, there was a spam call, but I received a million of those a day. I didn’t have a car, and I didn’t need a fucking warranty. “Why? What happened?”

  “There’s been an incident with mold, and well, we’re relocating everyone for a few months in the dorms. Ledger Hall. Health inspection…” I tuned her out as the words LEDGER HALL went off like a glitter bomb in my head.

  The bricked, non-air-conditioned co-ed dorm? The one of far too many horror stories? “This can’t be right,” I said, my voice tight with tension. How much could a girl handle in one day before my hair would fall out from stress?

  “It is. I’m sorry.”

  She looked it too, but that didn’t help me. I’d saved every penny teaching dance classes over the last two years to live here. It was my dream apartment for senior year. The place where I would be able to study and be myself, away from the sorority life and drama of my last roommate. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s just for two months. You’ll get your rent back, obviously, and we’re hoping the remodel can finish before then, but here’s the memo you should’ve received.” She handed me a slip of paper, and I stared at it, refusing to cry.

  No captain position.

  No bad-ass place to live.

  What was next? Would I break an arm or start getting acne?

  I scanned the memo and read the instructions—talk to the R.A. in Ledger Hall to get my room. My throat clogged, and I met the woman’s gaze again. “Everyone in here has to live in the dorms now? Even if we aren’t… underclassmen?”

  She nodded and chewed her lip. “Yes. Graduate students are relocating there too. You could stay at a hotel, but we won’t refund for that.” She cracked her knuckles and gave me a pitying look, her eyes downcast like she hated what she had to say. “You have until the end of today to remove your stuff.”

  “Got it.” I pinched the bridge of my nose just as the elevator dinged. The doors slid open, and Frederick Brady IV walked out. Tall didn’t accurately describe the gentle giant of a man as he strode into the apartment foyer. If he was a coffee drink, he’d be a trenta, something not even shown on the menu because the guy was massive. At least six and a half feet tall with broad shoulders and a jawline that was dangerous to the human population.

  His sharp gray eyes hid behind thick black glasses, and his gaze landed on me for one second before sweeping over me like I was nothing. He had thick, dark lashes and black hair that fell just right on his face, and while my breathing hitched for a beat, it had nothing to do with my attraction to Freddie. The blip was at the blatant dismissal in his gaze. Like I wasn’t worth his attention. Freddie wasn’t a fan of me. Despite one night where I thought… maybe… he was such a nice guy. But the moment had been a second in time that hadn’t worked out, and now he avoided me every chance he got.

  Being ignored wasn’t great for my ego or my pride, especially not today. Something about his tightened stance made me open my mouth, desperate to ruffle someone else’s feathers instead of my own.

  “Looking good, Freddie,” I said, winking at him as he stopped in his tracks. He gave a slight shake of his head, like I was a pesky little fly before he walked up to the counter and rested his very large palms there. That put him a few feet from me.

  He smelled like evergreen and coffee, as if he lived inside a Taylor Swift album and made a home in the woods. I wanted to inhale the scent and listen to Folklore. It also might have something to do with his blue plaid shirt.

  “Hey, Erica. You’ll keep me in the loop once the unit is available again?” he asked the woman in his deep, husky timbre. The grumpy giant had a voice for blues or the radio.

  The woman nodded. “Thanks for being understanding, Mr. Brady.”

  He sighed and set a key on the counter. Then, not bothering to say a hello or acknowledge my existence, he strode back out the front doors.

  Jerk. My ego could only take so many hits in a day, and I propped a hand on my hip, jutting it out to the side as I eyed Erica.

  “He loves me—he just doesn’t know it yet,” I said to her, giving what I thought was an easy smile.

  The woman frowned and adjusted her weight side to side. I almost laughed. She was uncomfortable. Another thing I was really good at—making people feel weird.

  “Um, right.” She cleared her throat. “You’ll get your things and move out?”

  She sounded too eager for my liking, but what could I do? I nodded. It wasn’t like I had a ton of stuff since I moved in two weeks ago and was too busy planning boot camp to unpack. Another sharp pang of betrayal grew in my chest, and I gritted my teeth together, forcing the dance team situation out of my mind. One step at a time.

  Focus on packing.

  That was what I did for two hours--shoved my clothes in a duffel bag and toiletries in another. It was weirdl
y therapeutic. Packing only took an hour or so to have all my shit in bags. Keeping busy was good. If I wasn’t at practice, I was at the gym. Or putting on makeup or doing my hair. Or out at a party. I never stopped to be alone and feel because that wasn’t fun for me.

  So, I packed. Next stop—Ledger Hall.

  The horrible, aged airless dorm had to be a punishment for all the dumb things I’d done in my life. Sweat poured down my temples, chest, arms, and legs. Carrying my stuff across campus worked my muscles, but I did it. The universe decided this dorm was meant for me this year when I was already hitting rock-bottom, and I went through all things I’d done that could’ve merited this punishment.

  Cheating in eight grade math, laughing when a teammate accidentally shaved her eyebrow off, or the fact my sister thought I was a heartless bitch for six years? Maybe it was a combination of the everything that put me in this fucking dorm when my senior year was supposed to be the best one yet.

  Don’t break down. Don’t do it. Keep busy. Distraction.

  I sucked in a shaky breath just as a familiar voice called out my name. I turned, flashing a grin at my sister’s boyfriend, Michael Reiner. “Hey, what are you—” I slammed my lips shut when Freddie crawled out of the compact car.

  A flash of irritation danced along my spine. Freddie had Michael help him with his stuff while knowing I was right there? God, the guy had to hate me. Michael frowned at me, and I covered up the awkward silence with a fake laugh. “I get to relive my wild freshmen days in the dorms. How exciting, right?”