So Into You [The Jane Austen Academy Series #2]

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Authors: Cecelia Gray

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BOOK: So Into You [The Jane Austen Academy Series #2]
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SO INTO YOU

 

The Jane Austen Academy Series # 2: A Modern Retelling of
Sense & Sensibility

 

by

Cecilia Gray

 

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* * *

 

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

 

Copyright 2012 by Cecilia Gray

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written consent from the author/publisher.

 

Published by The Alpha Division, LLC

 

* * *

 

The last thing that the girls at the elite Jane Austen Academy need is guys. But over the summer the school has been sold, and like it or not, the guys are coming. And they’re about to turn the Academy—and the lives of its students—totally upside down…
Meet sweet and sensible Ellie, who hasn’t met a problem her mom’s yoga mantras can’t fix. But when her parents threaten to pull her from the Academy just as her flirtation with the cutest boy in school heats up, will Ellie be able to keep her cool?

Acknowledgments

 

To the girls of the Jane Austen Academy series trailer for injecting me with a renewed energy for the project, and to the team at French Press Films for making the bestest trailer a girl could dream of.

 

Check out the trailer now!

 

And thanks to Shelley. Cuz duh.

Chapter One

 

 

Ellie Dvorak had long been settled at the Jane Austen Academy—or Jasta, as she and her friends called it.

She adored its rituals and the easy ebb and flow of classes, dances, and outings. Her favorite ritual was tonight’s Twilight Picnic, the sole evening event of the year held outdoors. On the last Friday of each October, teachers served students warm apple cider and fresh-baked cookies to signal the seasonal transition from summer heat to the warmth of a California fall. The Twilight Picnic was one of many quirky events that made Jasta so surreally wonderful.

Only tonight’s Twilight Picnic, as with many Jasta rituals this year, was different. Because this year Jasta was co-ed.

Like last year, a patchwork of colorful picnic blankets covered the grassy courtyard in the center of campus as the girls set up for the event. This year, between and around the picnic blankets, was a smattering of gym towels and gray sweatshirts—holding spots for the boys who were too new to Jasta to come prepared.

Ellie scooted further down her blue tartan picnic blanket so she was out of the shade of the apple tree, leaned back on her elbows so her long, blonde hair swung behind her, and stretched out her coltish, bare legs to catch the last rays of the sun dipping low in the sky. With a contented sigh, her long lashes drifted shut and a smile crept across her lips.

"You’re like a cat," Emma said. "You always find the sun."

"Maybe the sun finds me."

Ellie didn’t need to open her eyes to know her roommate perched with her back arched, her neck long, and her perfectly styled blonde hair tousled in the wind. She managed this pose in the inconvenience of a tight blue dress and knee-high tan suede boots. The fashion icon always moved as if someone was watching—which in her case was true. Doubly true now that boys were enrolled at Jasta. Emma always made an impression.

Ellie could still remember the first time she laid eyes on Emma more than two years ago at freshman orientation.

She’d received her room assignment, class schedule, and a sticker ID badge. During the campus tour, she’d towered over a crowd of eager eyes and nervous smiles while clutching her pink backpack, skateboard, and half-dozen plastic grocery bags stuffed to the brim with flip-flops. The tour group had walked through the main building, which was made up of four intersecting halls, two academic and two dormitory, forming a central courtyard dotted with apple trees.

When they had finally been led outside, Ellie had stood in the courtyard with her head tilted back and jaw slack. She’d gazed in awe at the spiral towers that reached toward the sky; at the large wooden doors at each compass point in the courtyard—north, south, east, and west—that swung open like gates to a medieval castle; at the glossy black, wrought-iron lettering over each entrance bearing the school’s motto,
We Will Be Heard
.

The boarding school felt important and dignified, unlike the beach shacks in Santa Cruz. The people were different, too. Her neon board shorts and shredded tank top screamed among the other students’ designer luggage and brand labels.

She’d felt so alone. She’d
been
alone, as her parents could not possibly abandon their yoga practice during a crucial backbending workshop series. When Emma had teetered past on stilettos in mid-diatribe to her posh parents about the inadequate closet space, Ellie had panicked.

Ellie remembered thinking,
Are they all like that?
Before she knew it, her phone was in her hand, her thumb dialing her parents, a plea on her lips to return home.

Then Lizzie had come along.

Lizzie, fresh off a plane from Chicago, had briskly crossed the green lawn and, despite her dark head barely coming to Ellie’s chin, she’d seemed the tallest person in the place. Her critical reporter’s eye had darted from one end of the courtyard to the other before it swung to Ellie’s face, her nametag, and back to her face before she’d declared, "You’re more of an Ellie."

It hadn’t taken long for Jasta to become Ellie’s new home, and for Lizzie to become the sister she had always wanted.

Then, earlier this year, thanks to the incoming male student body that had forced the girls to take on roommates, she now had a new friend in Emma.

"No napping," Emma urged. "You’ve got to see this."

"I’ve seen the Twilight Picnic before," Ellie mumbled. Soaking up the sun always made her deliciously drowsy.

"You haven’t seen the Twilight Picnic with eye candy."

Ellie winked open her right eye, squinted against the sun, and grinned. She searched the crowd, looking for a particular set of friendly brown eyes framed by dark lashes.

"Edward isn’t here yet." Emma never missed a thing.

"Edward?" Ellie said hastily. "Whatever—I was looking for Lizzie. She said she would be here. Edward did, too, but it’s not like I was looking for him. I’m sure he’ll turn up when he turns up. You know Edward—he—"

"Chatter alert," Emma said airily.

Ellie’s cheeks burned. She knew she shouldn’t be looking for Edward—she should enjoy being here with Emma.
Stay in the present,
her mother always said.
A person who is happy with what they have is always happy.
It boiled down to her mother’s life motto, the foundation of her entire yoga practice:
Accept the path the universe sets, else you strive against your destiny.

After weeks of aching for Edward, Ellie had to accept it wasn’t meant to be. Easier said than done, unfortunately.

She was relieved to spot dark hair and a worn denim jacket. Lizzie darted through the crowd but was stopped every few minutes by one girl or another. Ellie knew the questions they must be asking.

Did you discover the identity of Jasta’s new owners yet?

Are they going to change the school’s name?

How did the Board react to our protest petition?

Or more likely,
Are you and Dante really dating?

Ellie sat up and waved Lizzie over, but instead of seeing her, Lizzie steered left. Ellie’s hand fell to her side as her best friend ran to the campus equivalent of a blond Greek god.

Dante’s arms closed around Lizzie and he pulled her so close and tight, her feet lifted off the ground. Ellie could have sworn the entire courtyard of girls breathed a collective exhale of jealousy.

"And to think she hated him a week ago," Ellie grumbled as she watched Dante scoop Lizzie up with an arm under her knees to kiss her.

"We both know Lizzie didn’t hate Dante," Emma said. "She just didn’t realize she liked him yet."

Ellie was quiet. Because she
hadn’t
known Lizzie liked Dante. Lizzie had sworn she hated the imperious golden boy, and Ellie had taken Lizzie at her word. She hadn’t been able to see through the protests to the truth beneath them, but somehow Emma had, even though Emma and Lizzie didn’t even particularly
like
each other at the time.

The gong of the bell from the main tower shook the crowd of students from their lazy reverie. They sat to attention on their blankets and sweatshirts to watch the sun’s slow descent to the horizon as it poured orange light through wispy clouds.

Ellie leaned back again onto her elbows and scanned the crowd. Where was Edward? She didn’t want him to miss his first Twilight Picnic. He’d asked a million questions about the event.
Did people dress up as the vampires or werewolves? Where do I get the sparkly glitter for my face?
His expression had been so earnest it had taken her a moment to realize he was only trying to make her laugh.

As much as she loved Lizzie, her friend was always fretting, and as much as she loved Emma, she was always posing. It was nice to be with someone who just wanted to have fun. She half expected he would actually show up dressed as a sparkly vampire. Edward always seemed comfortable being exactly who he was—whether he was the center of comic attention, a sidekick, or a face in the crowd. Seeing Edward so perfectly in place no matter the place made Ellie feel like she belonged anywhere, too.

"Is Bergie resorting to servitude?" Emma pointed to the long tables of refreshments, where teachers filled red plastic cups with apple cider.

Headmistress Berg, inexplicably dressed in a zebra print pantsuit with her dark auburn hair piled high atop her head, mingled near the table, but instead of picking up a plate of cookies or grabbing a serving of apple cider, which would have shocked the student body speechless, she bypassed the refreshments and prowled her way through the courtyard.

Bergie adjusted the lime-green frames of her cat’s-eye glasses as she squinted into the crowd. Her gaze stopped at Ellie. She crooked a slim finger.

Ellie scooted closer to Emma and the comforting presence of the knotted, gnarled apple tree trunk at her spine. Bergie could not be summoning
her
.

Bergie hated
Lizzie,
who was a constant, outspoken thorn in her side, but not
Ellie
. She’d always been rather indifferent to her. Ellie wasn’t a troublemaker. Ellie had the highest standardized math scores of any Jasta student in a decade. Ellie followed rules.

But there was no mistaking that Bergie teetered on unstable heels—heels that even Emma wouldn’t bother with—toward them.

"Miss Dvorak," Bergie called.

Emma drew closer to her side. "Why is she asking for you?"

"She’s not coming for me," Ellie insisted. "Why would she? I haven’t done anything wrong. Or maybe she’s looking for me because I’ve done something right. Like maybe I broke a record on my PSATs or—"

"Chatter alert."

"Thanks," Ellie mumbled. Only, while it was easy to stop talking, it wasn’t so easy to stop her hands or her foot from tapping or her teeth from chewing at the inside of her lip.

"Miss Dvorak!" Bergie repeated as she drew closer.

Ellie scrambled to her feet as Bergie reached the edge of the blanket. The headmistress heaved a few breaths, as if her thin frame couldn’t manage the cardiovascular requirements of walking a few hundred feet in soft grass.

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