Four Of A Kind Novel Chapter 2: [1.1] A Crash Course in Valentine Family Politics

Chapter 2: [1.1] A Crash Course in Valentine Family Politics

Room 3-A was located at the end of the east hallway, third floor, last door on the right.

I found it with approximately forty-five seconds to spare.

Thank god I made it on ti.

The classroom was only half-full. Students were milling around different tables talking about their sumr vacation, comparing schedules and complaining about needing to be sowhere at 9AM.

The air slled like a mix between an Office Max and Sephora.

I scanned the room for an empty seat near the back. Sowhere I could close my eyes for five minutes without anyone noticing.

"ISAIAH!"

Or not.

A body slamd into

from the side. Arms wrapped around my shoulders. The impact nearly knocked

off my feet.

"Bro! My guy! My compadre! My brother from another mother!"

That would be Felix Beaumont. Son of the prestigious Beaumont Culinary Group and roughly two hundred and forty pounds cramd into a five-foot-ten fra.

He was also my best friend.

"Felix. You’re crushing my spine."

"I haven’t seen you in two months! Two months, Isaiah! Do you know how boring my sumr was without you?"

"You went to Paris, Tokyo, and Milan."

"Boring! No one there appreciated my humor!"

"That’s because your humor is terrible."

He released , clutching his chest like I’d wounded him. "You’re so an to . After everything we’ve been through."

"We’ve been through one freshman year prank war and that ti you got food poisoning from gas station sushi."

"That was a bonding experience!"

"You threw up on my shoes."

"BONDING."

I sighed. This was my life now. This was what I’d signed up for when I’d made the mistake of sharing my lunch with Felix Beaumont on the first day of freshman year. Three years later, he still hadn’t left

alone.

So mistakes haunt you forever.

Felix slung an arm over my shoulder, steering

toward a pair of empty seats near the window. He was grinning that grin of his. The one that usually preceded either disaster or entertainnt.

"Dude. Dude. Have you SEEN who’s in our horoom this year?"

"I just got here."

"Look. Look look look." He pointed toward the front of the classroom with all the subtlety of a neon sign. "Window seats. Second row. Tell

what you see."

I looked.

And imdiately understood why Felix was vibrating like a caffeinated chihuahua.

Two girls sat by the windows. Identical in every way that mattered. Sa wine-red hair. Sa purple eyes. Sa devastating beauty that made the morning sunlight seem inadequate by comparison.

One of them was laughing, talking animatedly with a group of classmates who hung on her every word. Her hair was styled in twin tails with pink ribbons, and she had approximately seven accessories visible from this angle. She radiated warmth like a space heater in human form.

The other one was staring at

with murder on her mind.

Ah. Coffee girl.

"That’s the Valentine sisters," Felix breathed, his voice reverent. "We have two of them in horoom. Do you know what this ans, Isaiah?"

"That you’re going to be using those pickup lines you learned in France?"

"It ans a FANTASTIC opportunity! It ans—"

"That I need to find a different seat."

I started to move. Felix grabbed my arm.

"Wait wait wait. Why are you running? A blessing from the high school gods! Two wealthy heiresses ripe for the taking!"

"The angry one wants

dead."

Felix paused before looking at the sisters, then back to , then back to the sisters.

"Is that... is that CASSIDY? Cassidy Valentine is glaring at you?"

"Is that her na?"

"Bro. BRO." He grabbed my shoulders and shook . "What did you DO?"

"Spilled coffee on her shirt."

"You WHAT?"

"It was an accident."

"An ACCIDENT? Isaiah, do you have any idea who you accidentally assaulted with coffee?"

"A very angry girl with expensive taste in dry cleaning?"

Felix released . Ran a hand through his hair. Started pacing in a small circle like he was processing a great tragedy.

"Okay. Okay. Let . Let

break this down for you." He pulled

toward our seats, pushing

into the chair by the window before taking the one next to . "The Valentine sisters. You know them, right? Everyone knows them."

"I know of them." I’d seen the na almost everywhere. The brand was inescapable especially when you had a little sister bombarding you with wishlists of their products.

"They’re a fashion company or sothing."

"Isaiah you sweet sumr child. That’s like calling a Rolls-Royce just a car. Maison Valentine is basically fashion royalty ran by the matriarch of the family Camille Valentine and spearheaded by all FOUR of the sisters... and you just made an enemy of the second most dangerous one, Isaiah."

I glanced toward the front of the room. Cassidy Valentine was still staring at . She hadn’t looked away once.

That’s actually impressive commitnt to hostility.

"Which one is she again?"

"Cassidy is considered the wild one. Rumor says she’s been suspended like four tis and sohow keeps getting away with it because her family literally funds half this school." Felix shuddered.

"She’s got a reputation, the tabloids call her the ’Problem Child Valentine.’"

"She seed more like a ’Rage Problem Valentine’ to ."

"This is serious! She’s basically the most promiscuous girl at Hartwell, and you just beca her enemy number one!"

I processed this information. "How is her being promiscuous relevant to

spilling coffee on her?"

"It’s NOT. I’m just, you know, providing context. Background information. The full picture."

"You’re gossiping."

"I’m BRIEFING you."

There wasn’t a difference between the two, but I let it slide.

Felix continued, apparently incapable of stopping now that he’d started. "The other one in our class is Harlow. The sweet one. She’s basically the opposite of Cassidy. Everyone loves her. She runs the fashion club, has like two million Instagram followers, and she’s never said a an thing to anyone in her life."

I looked at Harlow Valentine. She was currently helping a underclassman find sothing in their bag, smiling like the act of assistance brought her genuine joy.

Two million followers for being nice. There’s a business model I don’t understand.

"Then there’s Vivienne. The perfectionist. Student council VP, top of her class, basically runs this school behind the scenes. She’s the one who’s probably going to inherit the company."

"Is she in our horoom too?"

"No, thank God. I don’t think I could handle that much intensity first thing in the morning."

"And the fourth?"

"Last but certainty not least is Sabrina Valentine. She is considered the most private of the four. She barely shows up in photos, she never does interviews, and she is seen exclusively in the library."

"Sounds peaceful."

"It’s TERRIFYING. She’s like a ghost. A really hot ghost." He paused. "Actually, all four of them are stupidly attractive. It’s unfair. The universe gave one family all the good genes and the rest of us got stuck with..." He gestured at himself. "This."

"You’re not that bad."

"Bro, I gained fifteen pounds this sumr eating my way through the Beaumont Tokyo locations. My dad called it ’quality control.’ My doctor called it ’concerning.’"

"You’re cultivating mass."

"See, this is why you’re my best friend. You get it."

I didn’t get it. I just didn’t have the energy to be an before 8 AM.