Read Online The Dolls by Kiki Sullivan - Free Book Online

alone. I text him back Aw, feel better! , then I switch my phone to silent and head inside to start my new life.
    “Eveny Cheval,” the pudgy school secretary says flatly as I enter the front office, which is decked out in regal-looking furniture with eggplant-colored cushions.
    I nod, wondering how she knew it was me.
    “We never get new students here,” she remarks, answering the question I haven’t asked. She fluffs her bleached-blond curls and purses her bright pink lips at me. “Except scholarship kids from out in the Périphérie once in a while. But I know all of them in advance.”
    “Oh, do you live out there, in the Périphérie?” I ask, trying to be polite.
    “Are you being smart with me?” She glares back.
    “What? No, of course not.”
    “Well, last time I checked, I wasn’t sitting on a mountain of gold coins in a mansion like you people,” she says. “But I’m certainly not from out there .” I just stare at her, wondering how I’ve managed to piss off the first person I’ve encountered. “Now go on,” she says, handing over my class schedule. “Your books are in your locker.”
    I take a deep breath and head into the main hallway, which is teeming with students. The first thing I notice is that although all the girls are wearing the same uniform I am, every single one of them is pulling it off way better. None of them are in clunky loafers; they seem to be wearing everything from ballet flats to cowboy boots to strappy heels. My heart sinks as I realize the first impression I make here will be one of dorkiness.
    The guys are all wearing pressed khakis and pale purple oxford shirts with the initials of the school emblazoned on their left breast pockets. They, too, seem to have skipped anything resembling an official dress code. I spot a few purple and gold letter jackets, but most of the guys are dressed in pieces that smack a bit more of individuality—leather bombers, a few suit jackets, a handful of hoodies.
    Everyone is streaming by in a hurry, and nearly all of them are shooting me curious glances, but no one stops to help. I look down at the schedule again. It says on the top that I’ve been assigned to locker 445.
    Yet I have no idea where locker 445 might be, or how I’ll find my first class. I look around, hoping I’ll spot Peregrine or Chloe or another one of the Dolls, because at least they’re not complete strangers.
    That’s when I notice that the hallway is draped in black crepe ribbons. Signs that say We love you, Glory and We’ll miss you, Glory are taped on walls, and I spot a few photographs on a pin board nearby, framed in black. I step closer and see Glory Jones’s face smiling out at me.
    “You look lost.” A voice comes from the right, startling me, and I turn to see a slender girl with a heart-shaped face, big brown eyes, and thick dark hair. She’s wearing a purple tissue-weight cardigan and faded purple Converse high-tops with her uniform, almost as if she’s trying to look anti-glamorous. I like her instantly.
    “Yeah. It’s my first day, and I have no idea how to get to my locker,” I admit. “Or my first class. And I’m beginning to feel like an idiot.”
    “It was super rude of Mrs. Perkins to send you off without telling you where to go. I’d blame it on all that tacky hair bleach going to her head, but around here, if you’re not one of the chosen ones, you can forget about anyone giving a crap about you.”
    “The chosen ones?”
    She laughs, although it sounds a bit like a snort. “You’ll see.” She squints at my schedule and says, “All right, let’s get you to your locker.” We begin walking, and she adds, “By the way, I’m Liv.”
    “Eveny,” I reply.
    She reads my schedule as we dodge other students in the hall. “Cool, we have physics together sixth period,” she says. “Other than that, our classes don’t match up. But I’ll show you where your first period is.”
    We reach a row of lockers, and she points to one