Matter Point Read online

  Table Of Contents

  Other books by this author:

  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

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  About the Author

  Matter Point

  Copyright © 2020 by GG Shalton. All rights reserved.

  First Edition: April 2020

  [email protected]

  Editor: Joy Editing – https://www.joyediting.com/

  The Cover Collection – http://www.thecovercollection.com/

  Formatting: Streetlight Graphics

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Other books by this author:

  Regency Romance

  A Previous Time

  Amelia’s Deception

  Deceiving Lily

  Escaping Nobility

  Medieval Romance

  Hiding Katherine

  Freeing Joslyn

  Young Adult Romance

  Matter Point

  New Adult Romance

  The Innocence of Anna Lynn – Coming Soon

  Chapter 1

  Ariel

  “You’re going home, Ariel.” The Headmistress of Tarragon Prep Academy lifted her spectacles as she shifted in her chair.

  Mrs. Robertson tried to speak matter-of-factly, but I saw the cracks in her demeanor. After all, I had known her since my first year at Tarragon. Being the epitome of propriety, she would never show favoritism, but I knew she cared about me. On occasion, especially during parents’ weekend when I would stay in my room, the rest of the staff showed me pity as well. My father lived thousands of miles away and barely visited, and he was my only family. We weren’t close as far as fathers and daughters went, but some family interaction, no matter how dysfunctional, would have been a nice change of pace.

  I could only stare blankly at Mrs. Robertson. It was a reaction I had mastered when I didn’t know how to respond. It was better than babbling incoherently. Surely, she had me mixed up with another student. There were at least twenty Americans at this school.

  “What do you mean?” I finally said, my voice cracking. I couldn’t wrap my head around her sudden declaration. I didn’t really have a home per se, and I’d just finished the term. This coming year was to be my final year before going to university. It was supposed to be my time to break out of my shell and have some fun. “You must be mistaken, Mrs. Robertson.”

  I hadn’t been back to the States since I was thirteen years old, and it had been two years since I saw my father. He had been unable to visit last year due to his wedding. We’d made no plans for a visit this summer either, and I was to stay with my friend Isabel in Switzerland. I barely knew my father or his new family.

  “Your father sent a letter last week. He has unenrolled you and asked that I give you the news.” Her forced smile gave away her hope that I would accept the circumstances without much protest.

  Even rolling my eyes, I saw her tense when I didn’t return her pleasantries. “Typical—I don’t even get a phone call.” Tears of frustration pooled as anger took a toll on me. Lifting my chin in a rare show of defiance, my words came out with more courage than I felt. “I refuse to leave.”

  She removed her spectacles and softened her tone. “You know I would keep you if I could, but I cannot. Your father was clear that you are to return home the day after final examinations. You will finish your secondary education at Matter Point High School. In the States, you will be a senior. I have sent your transcripts.”

  I felt my stomach churning as the contents threatened to come up. “It’s not fair! Why this sudden interest in me?” This had to be a nightmare. I didn’t even know where my father was living. Swallowing hard, I looked at Mrs. Robertson. “Where is this Matter Point?”

  Her eyes gave away her disappointment. “It’s in Missouri by a town called Creston. At least that’s what I saw on the map. I must admit I was a bit curious. There are many lakes nearby. I’m sure it’s lovely.”

  Taking a shaky breath, I tried to keep my composure. “I know I’m American by law, but I haven’t been to the United States in years. How will I survive in an American high school?”

  “Perhaps you should call your father?”

  “He’s always so busy.”

  The truth was that I hadn’t spoken to him by phone since Christmas. Sure, he’d texted me on my birthday to tell me he’d added some money to my account and to buy myself a gift. There were no words of affection and frankly, I was surprised he’d even remembered it was my birthday.

  “Ariel, conceivably he wants to see you. This could be a good thing, spending time with your father.”

  I shook my head. “Please don’t pretend with me. Not you. We both know that isn’t the reason for this abrupt awareness of my existence. I was sent away to boarding school when I was thirteen years old. After my grandmother died, he couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”

  “Ariel…” Her tone was a mix of this is enough and I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do.

  I lifted my chin as my throat tightened. “He never spends more than a few hours with me when he visits, and most of that time is spent on the phone with his business partners. A few gifts and dinners are the extent of our relationship.”

  “Maybe he’s changed.”

  I shook my head, knowing in my heart that wasn’t true. “I tried to be perfect for him, never gave him any reason not to like me. I made perfect grades and worked diligently on my gymnastics until the school stopped the program. He never notices my efforts.”

  “Do you want me to speak to him? I don’t think it will change his mind about your enrollment, but it may give him a chance to know how you feel.”

  The thought of her telling my father how I felt only made me seem pathetic. “Poor little rich girl and her rich girl problems” was how I’d heard some of the staff whisper about girls who complained about their parents.

  “No,” I said sharply. Trying to recover, I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for my tone, Mrs. Robertson. I don’t wish for you to tell him. It would only upset him and make things harder on me.” Looking at my shoes, I digested the inevitable. “I’ll pack my things.”

  Mrs. Robertson stood and came around the desk. “I will miss you. I wish for you to sta
y in touch.”

  I stood on wobbly legs as Mrs. Robertson embraced me for the first time in my life. Her hold was strong.

  We broke apart and I looked at her face. “I will stay in touch. Thank you for your kindness.”

  The plane ride was rough. The layover in New York took forever, and now I was on my way to Kansas City. From there we would have a three-hour drive south to Matter Point. It was outside of the city of Creston.

  Apparently, my father had moved to Matter Point from St. Louis a few years back. He was a successful entrepreneur and dabbled in many business ventures. His family had come from old money, but I’d never given that much thought. Really, what did it matter? From what I’d gathered, the more you had, the more you could pay someone else to raise your children.

  I’d heard from Mrs. Robertson that my father had bought some property a few years back in an exclusive lake community called Matter Point. The internet described it as a place for the wealthy, and there were plenty of golf courses and lake activities to keep people entertained. The website used the buzz words of lucrative property and exclusive lake access. I cracked a smile, thinking about how ridiculous it all sounded.

  I would have preferred to live in St. Louis in my grandparents’ home. It was the only home I remembered, and my memories of my grandmother were precious to me. My father’s mother had raised me since my own mother had left after I was born. We lost my grandfather when I was too little to remember him, so my grandmother and I had relied on each other as my father traveled and only came home occasionally. Her death was the hardest time of my life.

  Staying in her home would have been my first choice since my father had decided I must return to the States, but my quick phone call with my father a few days ago had smashed that request. He felt I would thrive at Matter Point High School. It was not a private school but was practically considered one because only Matter Point residents attended. I wasn’t sure how I would enjoy living there. The nearest city was at least thirty minutes away.

  The woman beside me attempted some polite conversation, but I put on my headphones and tried to zone everyone out. I know ignoring an adult was ill-mannered—my schooling was very strict on propriety—but I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to wallow in my self-pity. After all, it was summer, and my best friend and roommate, Isabel, and I had made plans with her family. They were spending the summer at an old castle and had invited me to go along. I knew they probably felt sorry for me, but I’d accepted, nonetheless. Isabel and I had even made plans to visit France with her older sister. But now none of that would happen. My father had ripped me from the normal life I had made for myself and was throwing me into a public school in America. He hadn’t even had the decency to talk to me about it or ask what I wanted. Our call had been short, and all he’d said was that he would pick me up from the airport and explain everything. That was it.

  I doubted my new school would be as strict as Tarragon. Then again, I had no idea how public schools worked. Even when I went to school in St. Louis, it was a private school. My grandmother had picked me up after school every day and made sure I did my homework. We went to the library at least three times a week, and she loved taking me to museums to learn history. She said it was better than any schoolbook. But now, it would be different. Would they make fun of me?

  I couldn’t imagine going to school with boys. Since I became a teenager, I’d been in an all-girls’ school. My father hadn’t wanted me around adolescent boys. Wonder what has changed his mind now? He had told me before that he felt I needed to focus on my studies, and I’d wanted to please him, so I never argued or questioned him. At Tarragon Academy, we were allowed little free time between academics, duties, and church. Boys were only allowed to visit in a common area on the main floor. Our dorms were strictly off-limits to males. Even brothers who came for visits weren’t allowed near the dorms.

  Many of the other girls had complained about the strictness, but I was used to rules and enjoyed having structure. My father had always demanded I be on my best behavior in order to participate in the “dinner hour,” he called it. I used to crave spending time with him, so I did everything I could to please him. However, I always fell short.

  Closing my eyes, I thought about my grandmother. She tried to make up for my father’s absence. When I asked about his whereabouts, she would make excuses for him. Even as a child, I knew what she was doing. The truth was that both my parents had abandoned me. When I was little, I dreamed of my mother coming to see me one day. I knew so little about her. My father would never answer any of my questions about my mother, so when I found a picture of her in an old chest of my grandmother’s, I kept it. My grandmother knew I had it but never spoke about it.

  My throat tightened as I remembered the day my father told me my grandmother was ill. A few weeks later, she passed away. After the funeral, he left me with a nanny he’d hired, and within the next couple of months, I was shipped off to boarding school in Europe. He didn’t even accompany me, sending my nanny to help me through orientation.

  The woman beside me nudged me, and I looked at her, a bit confused. She pointed at the flight attendant who was trying to ask me something.

  I removed my headphones. “Yes?”

  “Please put your tray table up. We’re about to land.”

  I nodded and raised it. Putting my headphones aside, I pressed my hand to my stomach. I was anxious to see my father and his new wife, Amanda. She’d sent me a Christmas card with a picture of them by a tree. I could only assume the two young kids standing beside them were her children. My father hadn’t mentioned them when he called me on Christmas.

  Feeling the plane land, I tried again to settle my nerves. My father always had me on edge, and I could only imagine the real reason he’d taken me out of school. My grades were good, and I was never in trouble. Why did he do this to me?

  Taking out my phone, I typed a quick text to Isabel.

  Me: Just landed and now officially back in America. I miss you already.

  Isabel: Miss you too bestie. Text me later and tell me how it goes.

  Coming out of the jetway, I scanned many faces. I had hoped he could get through security to greet me, but he may be in baggage claim. Following the signs, I went through the exit and saw people holding up signs for their passengers. I searched the crowd of strangers, hoping to see him. After a few moments, I heard someone call my name, and I turned to see a young boy with pudgy, reddened cheeks approach me.

  “Did you call my name?” I was confused how this child would know me.

  “Are you Ariel?”

  “I am.”

  The boy held out his hand. “I’m Ritchie. Your brother.” The kid had to be around twelve years old.

  “My brother?” The thought almost made me giggle. “I don’t have any siblings.”

  “Your dad married my mom. I’m your stepbrother.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at the kid as I shook his extended hand. “Nice to meet you, Ritchie.”

  His bangs fell into his eyes as he tried to stretch to a taller height. I looked around him and my eyes landed on an attractive woman standing beside a slightly older boy with his arms crossed.

  She smiled as she approached me. My mouth fell slightly open as I noticed a small baby bump. Was she pregnant? “Ariel? I’m so happy you are here.” She embraced me as I stiffened. I assumed this was my stepmother, but the hugging was a little over the top. I looked behind her as she spoke to me. I was barely listening as I tried to find my father. I heard her laugh.

  “I’m Amanda. Wow, you’re even more beautiful than your pictures. Stunning.” I noticed she was watching me carefully and lost her smile briefly. “He was heartbroken he couldn’t meet you here.”

  I finally stopped searching and met her gaze. “My father isn’t coming?”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. He was called away at the last moment. But he promised to cut th
e trip short by a few days. I know he’s looking forward to spending time with you.”

  The familiar ache in my chest made me stumble over my words. “I see.”

  “We can get your luggage and be on our way. I rented a minivan. I thought it would make the trip more comfortable.”

  “Mom, can we get a snack?” Ritchie looked longingly at the vending machines.

  “Let’s wait so we can get on the road. It’s a long trip and we can stop by a gas station and grab a few snacks. “ She looked at the boy who hadn’t said a word and only stared at me as though he didn’t want to be there. “I know you met Ritchie; he’s twelve. And this is Robbie. He’s fourteen and will be a freshman this year. You’ll both be going to high school together.”

  He rolled his eyes as he stepped away from his mother. Great, he seemed like a brat.

  “Robbie, please help Ariel with her other luggage.”

  He groaned but took the handle. I was speechless. These people were strangers and I was leaving with them.

  The boys argued as my stepmother rolled her eyes. “I can’t tell you how excited I am to have female companionship.”

  I didn’t reply. Truthfully, I was at a loss for words. We kept walking to the parking lot and the boys helped me load the suitcases into the van.

  “Shotgun,” the younger boy said as he ran to the passenger side door.

  “Ritchie, let Ariel ride up front.” Amanda’s voice was strained, as though she was exhausted from a day of playing referee between her children.

  Anger swept across his face. “What? I have to ride the whole way next to Robbie?”

  I held up my hand. “I can ride in the back. I don’t mind.”

  If I was stuck up front, she would expect me to converse and answer questions, and I wasn’t in the mood to be civil. I should be used to my father’s disappointments, but this one took the cake.

  She hesitated, then her shoulders sagged. “Fine. Ritchie.”

  I plopped into my seat in the back and stuck my headphones in my ears. I wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. I saw her glance back, notice my headphones, and press her lips together. She seemed not to want to say anything further.