I blinked slowly, aware there were people standing over me.

"Oh my God, Damien, she's dead, she's dead," someone panicked.

"She's breathing, Noah," someone else said, sounding unimpressed with the entire situation. "She's not dead, dumbass. Go get the nurse."

"Tabitha already went to get her ... oh look, she's waking up."

As consciousness crept back, a crowd of unfamiliar faces swirled into focus above me. A rhythmic throbbing at my temple made me foggy. I glanced up at the two boys crouching in front of me. "I'm Noah," one of them said, pointing to himself with a cool smile. Noah had sandy blond hair, cut short. His unique green eyes seemed to hold a mischievous glint, especially when he caught the admiring glances cast his way. His casual, yet tastefully chosen attire of a well-fitted shirt and comfortable jeans complemented his rugged good looks perfectly. "And this idiot is Damien."

Damien huffed, standing tall with an athletic grace, his dark, wavy hair that curled behind his ears. His vibrant blue eyes sparkled when his gaze met mine, his face breaking into a warm, inviting smile. "What's your name-"

"Good grief, what happened?" Someone asked, and among the sea of spectators appeared a nurse, with stern brown eyes. Clad in blue scrubs with a tan cardigan, she knelt beside me, her medical bag ready. Her flashlight danced across my eyes as she instructed, "Follow the light, dear."

I obeyed, despite the protest of my pounding head. "You have a slight concussion. Are you hit anywhere else?"

I shook my head. Off to the side, Damien held the rogue football, his face painted with guilt. Noah, however, looked like he'd seen a ghost, his complexion having lost all its color.

"Sorry about this," Damien mumbled, avoiding my gaze. "We didn't see you there."

I mustered a weak smile, trying to sit up, but the nurse's firm hand guided me back down. "Stay put for a moment, dear. You took quite a hit," she said as she packed her things, satisfied that I was out of immediate danger. "We'll have to call your parents."

I winced as crowd around me slowly melted away under the nurse's stern gaze. Damien sheepishly offered to carry my bag, his apology hanging in the air. Now that I could see, the stars fading, Damien was fine as fuck. "I am sorry ... um, shit, I don't even know your name."

"Watch your language, Mr. Ravenhart," the nurse, Ivy, scolded Damien. He gave me a smile, rolling his eyes. I couldn't help but smile too. Ivy pulled me up the main stairwell, my mind foggy. We took a right and walked down a long hallway, until we reached the end and turned into a small clinic.

The walk to the infirmary was filled with a mixed bag of emotions. Embarrassment painted my cheeks red, yet a hint of amusement tickled my thoughts. This was surely not the grand entrance I had envisioned on my first day at the , but it was undeniably one that I, and perhaps a good part of the school, would remember.

"What's your name?" Damien asked, leaning on the wall as Ivy instructed me to sit on the bed.

I gave him a small smile. "Alina."

He stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Alina." I shook his hand, his skin cold to the touch. I winced, my shoulder aching from where I landed on it.

"Excuse me while I call your-"

"Brother. Angelo is my guardian," I said, tired of hearing her say parents. Damien studied me with a cautious gaze.

"Right, sorry, dear. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." She tittered away and I met Damien's gaze.

"Not how I wanted my first day to start," I said, playing with the hem of my shirt. "What year are you?"

"Junior. I moved here last year," he said and he held up my backpack still in his hand, lifting it onto the bed. "What about you?"

"Junior. I just moved here a few weeks ago."

"Awesome. Do you have your schedule? We could-"

"I don't have my schedule yet. It's in the office, where I was headed when someone threw a football into me." I smirked when his cheeks flushed, guilt evident in his eyes.

"I truly am sorry."

"I know. Accidents happen. Don't you have class? You don't need to stay here, thank you for bringing my bag."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure," I said, nodding.

"I'll see you around then," Damien smiled and I felt my heart leap from my chest. "Maybe for lunch?"

"Yeah. That'd be great. Thank you."

+++

"Angelo, calm down."

He'd gone into overprotective mode about five minutes ago when he walked into the clinic and saw me lying in the bed.

"Don't tell me to calm down, young lady," my brother said, frowning. "You're hurt, Lina. On your first damn day!"

We were sitting in Headmistress Sinclair's office, pulled in after we left the nurse's clinic. I played with the hem of my shirt, pressing my back into the leather cushions of the armchair. "It was an accident, Angie."

He shot me a glare at the use of his beloved nickname. I smirked. "I'm the unluckiest person alive, okay? Shit like this happens to me all the time."

The office door creaked open and there was a small knock as a woman, Headmistress Sinclair walked in to join my brother and I. She was tall with dark skin, dressed in a blue pantsuit, holding a pen and paper in hand. "Alina, I apologize for this morning. Ivy tells me you have a concussion, I'll be sending you home for the rest of the day."

I shook my head. "I'm fine, really-"

"No, you're coming home," Angelo interrupted, crossing his arms.

"No. I want to stay at school."

"Alina, don't argue with me," he warned, his stern, overprotective side appearing.

"Come on, all I have left anyway is lunch, free, and creative writing. I love writing. Don't make me go home. If I feel ill, I promise to call." I used my old trick- the puppy dog eyes. Angelo glanced away, letting out a long breath. He murmured something under his breath.

"If your Headmistress allows it, you can stay," he finally said, meeting my gaze.

I glanced up at Sinclair, who was watching me with a sort of awe. She smiled, nodding. "As long as you agree to come to the nurse if you're not feeling well, and you don't use any screens or read heavily, you can stay ... I've never had a student beg to stay in school before, Ms. Morena."

I smiled. "I like learning, what can I say."

We finished our meeting with me promising once again to call Angelo or Christian to come if I felt sick. In the hallway, Angelo paused and opened his arms. "Come here, bambina," he murmured softly. I did, loving the safety and warmth he radiated when he wrapped his huge tattooed arms around me. "You call me or Christian if there's any problem. Understood?"

"Angelo, you worry too much."

He grunted. "I said, understood?"

I rolled my eyes into his shirt. "Understood."

He pulled me back to arm's length. "Good, now message Christian and Killian, they've been blowing up my phone to see how you are ... but don't stay on your phone. Screens are bad for concussions. Killian would have had my head if I didn't tell you that."

"Okay. I will."

"I'll see you at dinner, okay?" He kissed me on the forehead and took off down the stairs, leaving me alone. Everyone else was in class, I had no idea where to go. I still didn't have my schedule.

"Alina," Headmistress Sinclair called, stepping into the hallway, and beckoning me closer. "Why don't you come into my office until the bell rings? I have your schedule and we can discuss some things."

+++

Headmistress Sinclair kept me in her office until the bell rang for lunch. We discussed extracurricular activities, which I guess I'm required to join at least one club or sport. Though the academy had lots to choose from. "I see in your school records you were a competitive swimmer, I can talk to Coach Robinson. Tryouts start in a few weeks. Usually they start in August, but Robinson wants to change it up and have the students run a few meets over summer."

"I don't think-"

"We have won two state championships in the last two years. Not to brag or anything, but our team is one of the best."

"I don't really-"

"Please at least think about it."

"Yeah, okay. I'll think about it."

"Great. We'd be lucky to have you join the team." Just as she finished, the sharp ring of the bell sounded. I smiled, standing as I hoisted my backpack over my shoulder.

"Thank you. You've been very kind," I said, and she nodded.

"Have a good lunch, Alina."

I stepped out into the hallway, panicking when I noticed the sea of students. I felt my heart beating over time, about to have an essential crisis. I didn't know where to go, I didn't know anyone, and I hated it. Maybe I should have gone home.

"Alina," someone called my name in the hallway. "Alina!"

I searched the crowd to see a girl with long red hair waving her hands. "Hi, there, I'm Tabitha. I ... uh, I was there when Noah and Damien pretty much tackled you this morning. Do you need help finding the cafeteria? I'll show you the way. I believe it's stir-fry day. Don't worry, we'll get you a menu. It's up on the website too, and there's even an app. Here, pass me your phone and I'll download it for you."

I chuckled, amazed. "Damn girl, you are long-winded."

Tabitha laughed, blushing. "I'm so sorry. I get carried away sometimes. How are you? Does your head hurt? I lectured those boys all through English Lit."

"You know them?"

"Oh yeah. We're friends," she said, nodding as we traveled down a series of hallways and into a circular building. Students filed in, weaving in and out of the cafeteria. We got in line and I peered around the room, mesmerized.

Nestled within the heart of the exclusive Bloomfield Academy, the cafeteria appeared to be a culinary sanctuary that dances on the edge of tradition and innovation. Bathed in the soft glow of ornate chandeliers, its high vaulted ceilings give the room an air of elegance that befits the school's reputation. Polished hardwood floors guide students to a buffet of culinary wonders.

The scents of freshly baked bread and aromatic herbs waft through the air, as chefs in pristine white jackets labor over their culinary creations. In one corner, a salad bar stood like a vibrant garden oasis, where students assemble personalized salads beneath an arbor of twining ivy. The soup station exudes warmth and comfort, with steaming pots of bisques and broths, ready to soothe the soul.

A grand mural depicting the school's history adorns one wall, a tapestry of memories and achievements. Soft classical music plays in the background, inviting an ambiance of sophistication and culture. As students gather at long oak tables, the atmosphere hums with a harmonious blend of lively conversation and clinking cutlery amongst chatter and laughter.

I picked a chicken stir-fry, grabbing iced tea and an apple. Tabitha took a gluten free option, guiding me through the mingling students. "Come on, we sit in the back, next to the window."

Tabitha led me to their table where two familiar faces - Noah and Damien sat with three others, two boys and a girl with jet black hair. "Hey everyone, this is Alina," she said, sitting down next to Noah. Damien offered a smile and tapped the empty seat next to him. "Alina, this is Theodore-"

"Theo," the boy snapped, glaring at Tabitha. He had red hair too and I'd bet my life they were twins. "No one calls me that unless they want a busted lip."

"And Aryan," she pointed to the boy sitting between Noah and Damien. "Then best for last, Zoe." The girl with black hair with pink highlights smiled and waved as I took the seat next to Damien.

"Lovely to meet you, Alina," Zoe said in a sleek, Dutch accent. "Where did you move from?"

"Nevada. Though my family is from Italy," I said, slightly proud of that, because before my brothers I had no idea I came from Italian heritage. I had thought my mother liked the named Alina. "Are you all juniors?"

"Yup," Noah said, grinning and then frowned, "I really am sorry about this morning. Are you okay?"

"I am okay, don't worry."

"What extracurriculars are you thinking about?" Tabitha asked, while the others listened. I shrugged, thinking about swimming. I didn't want to tell them that, because like Sinclair, they would likely encourage me to join.

"What are you guys in?"

"I'm in basketball and lacrosse, along with Noah and Theo," Damien said, then gestured to Aryan. "He's in debate and competitive swimming. Zoe is on the girls basketball team, on student council, and robotics club-"

"The overachiever," Noah coughed, earning a slap from Zoe.

"And I am on the swim team with Aryan and Editor for the school newspaper," Tabitha said, gesturing to me. We chatted more until the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. "Do you need help getting to your class? The hallways and buildings can be confusing. It took me forever to learn the layout."

I nodded. "I would appreciate that a lot." I showed her my best class, creative writing with Ms. Wilder. We walked out of the cafeteria and into the main corridor outside, heading to the language and arts building. The layout was confusing, though I was grateful for Tabitha.

"This is it," she said, stopping at the end of the hallway we just walked. She smiled and gestured to the classroom in front of us, making my heart skip a beat.

"Thank you so much," I murmured and she rolled her eyes.

"No problem. You're one of us now. If you have any other troubles, text me. See you tomorrow, okay?"

My heart raced with anticipation as I approached the door to the creative writing class. I knew little about the teacher who would guide us through the realm of storytelling, but the classroom itself held a sense of promise and imagination.

Entering the room, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and uncertainty. The students were already engrossed in conversations and laughter. They seemed like a close-knit group who had shared this creative space for some time.

I chose a seat in that back row by the window, the view of the campus garden and the trees beyond captivating me. It was a serene sight, and for a moment, I felt like I belonged in this world of creativity. As I settled into the chair, my heart danced with a mix of emotions.

The teacher, a stranger to me, walked in with confidence and a welcoming smile. She introduced herself, and though I had yet to know her well, her passion for writing was unmistakable. I felt grateful for her warm greeting as she acknowledged my status as the new student.

"Alina Morena," the teacher said, her eyes scanning her class list. The spotlight seemed to shine on me, and I felt the weight of all eyes in the room. Nerves gnawed at my composure, but I met her gaze with determination.

"That's me," I replied, my voice steady despite the unease.

She glanced up at me with a smile. "I'm Miss Wilder, welcome to our class."

As the class unfolded, I became more immersed in the discussions about characters, plots, and the enchanting power of words. With each contribution, my voice grew more confident. In this classroom, I felt like I belonged.

The air in the classroom was electric with creativity, and it seemed like the spark of imagination had ignited in every student. I liked writing - no, I loved it. I hadn't had time to write over the last few weeks and all my notebooks burned in the house fire, so I'd have to start from scratch. I had the leather bound journal Mattia had bought me, but so far I had no motivation to write.

"For the next ten minutes, until the bell, I want you all to free write," Miss Wilder said from the front of the classroom. "It can be point form, a poem, a story, anything. I just want to see you all writing."

I wrote until my hand hurt. I wrote about the fire, my mother and Michael dying, meeting my brothers, everything. I wrote my heart out onto the pages and it felt good. After ten minutes of writing, I had gotten six pages done.

"Impressive," Miss Wilder said as she reached my table with approval. "I look forward to reading your work someday, Alina. If you'll allow me."

I smiled, though I doubted I'd ever let anyone read my work. "Sure thing, Ms. Wilder."

+++

I walked through the front door, waving to Christian, and struggled to take off my jacket, too exhausted.  

"She got injured her first day?!" A woman screeched, seeming extremely displeased. "Who do I need to kill now?"

I raised an eyebrow, striding to the kitchen. I peered around the casing and noticed a young women, a year or two younger than Killian, with long chocolate curls flowing down her back.

"Calm down, Valentina," Killian snapped, throwing his apron down onto the counter, throwing up his hands. "I've already been told not to harm anyone so it's only fair you're not allowed to either."

"I think we should get you a little bell," Soren whispered, and I jumped as he touched my shoulder. He chuckled. "Eavesdropping again?"

I scoffed. "Who is she? What's she doing here?" I rambled and Soren continued to stare at me, his eyes softening.

"It's our cousin, Val. She's ... a bit on the wild side. Come on, you'll love her," Soren said, nudging me into the kitchen. Valentina swivelled around and her eyes widened.

"Oh my God," she said, her Italian accent thick as she took two strides forward before coming inches from my face. "You are beautiful, la bambina è cresciuta!" [the baby is all grown up].

"Give her space, Val," Killian said, a warning. With a huff, my cousin backed up a step, still inches away from me.

She had tears in her eyes. "Oh my," she murmured, "I apologize, bambina. It's just, we've all been excited to see you and these bastardi would have kept you all to themselves."

I smiled. "I understand, it's nice to meet you. Do .. do I have any more cousins? Aunts or uncles?" I asked, glancing behind her to look at a sheepish Killian. "Why hadn't you told them?"

Killian shrugged his shoulder unapologetically. "I guess we've been a bit selfish ... and we should have told you, Alina, about the other members of our family."

"Damn straight," Valentina snapped back and I smirked at how sassy she could be, especially to my brothers. She turned back to me with a soft smile. "Come sit down, I'll tell you all about the rest of the family ... we're so excited to get to know the princess of the maf-"

"Valentina," Angelo appeared out of nowhere, his tone stern. Our cousin nodded, seeming to know what he meant when I sat clueless. "What are you even doing here?"

"I came over when I heard our bambina got hurt today at school," she said, crossing her arms. "I can't believe you won't let us ki-"

"Valentina." Angelo roared, narrowing his eyes.

Valentine huffed. "I'm just saying, if anyone else hurts our girl, they'll pay and no one can stop me," she said, her tone extremely dark. There was a moment of silence before my cousin turned to me once again. "Let me show you pictures of everyone ... this is Enzo, my older brother. This is Granny ... she's a sweet old thing, you'll love her. Got a mouth of a sailor when she's angry though. She's not Italian, that's why we call her Granny. Nonno passed away years ago, but damn, he'd be so happy to see you."

Valentina and I spent almost two hours together. We retreated into the living room, settling into the comfy couches, and she showed me dozens of photos. I learned my father Lorenzo had a younger brother named Salvatore, who married Siobhan, an Irish woman he met at a Dublin club. Together they had Valentina and Enzo. They lived in Florence, Italy with my grandmother- Granny - who were all excited to see me again.

It felt so ... so odd to have extended family. I didn't know my moms side of the family, I didn't even know my grandparents names. She hated talking about anything to do with her childhood. Growing up as an only child, it was weird to have brothers, let alone an aunt and uncle and cousins and a Granny. I couldn't wait to meet them all.

"Dinner," Killian called, the smell of tomato and basil filling the air. "Dinner, now." Valentina sighed, tucking her phone into her jeans pocket.

"Come on, princess, before those damn boys eat everything," she said and I smiled, following her into h the kitchen. From spending a few hours with her, I could tell we would be close.

+++

I think this is my favourite chapter I've wrote so far. What do you think? I know it's long.

Please vote and comment.

I just wanted to let you know that the main focus of this book is Alina adjusting to her new life, and her new friends and Damien will be minor characters. The main characters are still Alina and her three brothers. This book is her figuring out how to come to terms with her trauma and move forward as well as how she'll fit into and learn about the family business.
- Charlie 🧡