“The extra strict is probably something to do with Mom’s upbringing,” I guessed. “Apparently her parents had a lot of rules, which definitely influenced her way of raising me.”

My mom, Konami Lewis, was second-generation Japanese. It was from her that I got the brown skin tone and long, straight black hair. In most other ways, I looked like my dad, Samson Lewis. He was a blue-eyed, Texas-born Southerner. His family was from old oil money, and they were very proud of their son the diplomat. They loved my mom, so the cultural differences never mattered to them.

Mom’s family wasn’t as proud, because we didn’t uphold a lot of Japanese culture in our house anymore, but on the nights Mom was home, we always ate the best food. Homemade sushi, tempura, and edamame. With vegetables only – we were not into the meat thing.

When we reached the parking lot, a familiar black Mercedes was idling in the same spot it always was, dark tint hiding Gracie and Bruce, who I knew were inside.

“So, I’ll pick you up at nine tonight?” Brad said as he handed me my bag back. Before I could protest, he ruffled up my long hair again and strode off toward his Aston Martin. I grumbled while waiting for Bruce to hurry around to open my door. I could have gotten it myself, of course, but he liked to do his job properly. So, I waited.

Bruce and Gracie were two of the five permanent staff my parents employed. I’d known them most of my life and it was a comfort to have some stability. When he reached my side, I smiled, and he gave me a nod in return, always polite. At sixty years old, he was nearing retirement age, and I was afraid that one day soon his kind brown eyes, grizzled face, and wiry salt and pepper hair, would be gone from my life.

“Thanks, Bruce,” I said as I slid inside. He closed the door after me and I settled back into my seat.

If Brad was your typical rich playboy … I wasn’t much better. Spoiled would be an apt description. It was my thing. When I was younger, I’d been into school and grades, but then I discovered friends, and I ditched those “nerdy” things to focus on that part of my life. It took me a long time to realize I was just playing a part. Pretending.

Except for Brad. I never had to pretend with him. He knew about my secret anime obsession, not to mention that I was still waiting on an owl to tell me I was a wizard.

I was coming to realize, though, that it was more than just college choices that confused me. It was the very essence of what made up Maya Lewis.

“How was school?” Gracie asked this same question every day. It was our tradition.

After dropping my bag down, I turned in the leather seat to face her. She had her light blond hair up in a tight ponytail, which made her look younger than her forty-three years. Her hazel eyes were very brown today, only a hint of green, and she wore not a slick of makeup.

“It was hectic,” I said truthfully. “The teachers are piling on the work, and college applications are due or overdue. It’s insane.”

She patted my arm, tilting her head to the side as she gave me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t push yourself so hard that you burn out. Just keep going the way you are.”

The urge to hug her was strong. I had no idea what I would have done without Gracie’s calming presence in my life. Like most kids, I adored and forgave my parents for their flaws. But Gracie was there every day. I was eternally grateful for that, even if she was getting paid to do it.

Her words resonated with me and I made a sudden decision. “Brad wants me to go to a party tonight. I wasn’t planning on it because I have so much work to do … but maybe I should try to relax before jumping into my assignments.”

She nodded, her brow tightening minutely. “Sure, I can cover with your parents.”

Technically, I wasn’t allowed out at night, especially not to parties, but Gracie didn’t agree with keeping me completely locked up. She said she trusted me, and that as long as I never broke that trust by drinking or doing drugs, among other things, she would allow me small freedoms.

For the most part, I never really broke her rules. A few drinks here and there, but I never lost control.

“Especially if Brad is there to keep an eye on you,” she added, turning back to the front and sinking into her seat.

“He’s going to pick me up and drop me back off, so he’ll definitely be keeping an eye on me.”

He’d disappear through the middle of the party, off hooking up with half the cheer squad, most of whom were my friends, but then he’d find me again before we went home. He never left me behind. He was a great friend … and a really shitty boyfriend. Luckily, I’d never had any romantic interest in Brad, because that would have gotten awkward really fast.

Traffic was heavy, but we made it home in decent time. Our mansion was in a gated community on S Lee Street, just a few blocks from the school. It took a minute for the huge front gates to open, and then Bruce drove up the round drive, pulling up at the door to let us out. This was the only house I’d ever lived in: three stories, cream and tan exterior, with brickwork, climbing ivy, and two pillars framing the front entrance.

My room was on the second floor, and I went straight up to ditch my uniform and change into something more comfortable. It had started getting cold last week – the middle of November – so I settled on some jeans, a white, fitted, knit pullover, and my fluffy socks. The dark purple streaks in the end of my hair were very prominent against the white of my top, and I was glad I’d talked my mom into letting me get it done.