I was starting to understand why the people in the novels I read became murderers.

It had been only a few days since I had arrived at Seven Hills, but I already felt one minor inconvenience away from snapping.

Reason number one: the fact that I had been sent here in the first place. It was all right that my parents were divorcing; after all, it had been a long time coming, and in the end, it was their decision to make. When they had sat me down at the kitchen table, apologetic smiles pasted over obvious discomfort, I had even been relieved for a split second to know that this was it—the storm cloud that had been building up under the roof of the house, growing darker and more threatening with every year that went by, charging the air with so much tension that my hair stood on end every time I came through the door, was finally erupting and it wasn't as loud as I had feared. No earthshaking thunder or blinding flashes, just a sheepish apology for the way things had been lately and an earnest This has nothing to do with you, we both love you so much. None of that would have been a bad thing in itself. It was only when my dad slid his phone over to me, the words Seven Hills International Boarding School for Boys and Girls written in an elegant font at the top of the website he had pulled up, that I realized I had let my guard down too soon. This was absolutely fucking terrible, but not in any of the ways I had anticipated.

Reason number two: Seven Hills was just as god-awful as I had thought it was going to be. Surrounded by the thick castle walls in the middle of bloody nowhere, I was a fish out of water. While things had come easily to me at home, I suddenly had to fight tooth and nail not to fall behind in all of my classes and spent the afternoons wading through a flood of homework that inched higher every day. Every bit of fun that might have remained was prevented by the thousands of rules that Amelia was all too glad to remind me of on a daily basis. Around her and all the other stone-faced boarders in their pristine uniforms, with shiny cars financed with their daddy's money parked behind the castle, I felt out of place and overly conscious of my ill-fitting blazer and scuffed-up shoes. Most of the time, I tried my best not to be seen; I simply sidestepped and ducked and blended into the brick walls whenever someone passed me by.

The only exception was Evelyn. Without her, I was sure I would have gone insane already, maybe turned into some kind of madman that had to be locked away in the attic like a character in some Gothic novel and whose wailing could be heard around the castle halls at night.

The third reason for my misery: Gabe.

Rooming with a complete stranger was anything but comfortable as it was; rooming with a complete stranger whose goal seemed to be to drive me mad was almost unbearable.

Every time I entered our room, it looked worse. Now it wasn't just empty food packaging and school stuff that were scattered all across the room, but also clothes, most of them dirty, and not only in his half of the room but in mine as well.

The cause of all the chaos was lying on his bed in nothing but boxers, playing something on his laptop. He wasn't wearing headphones, because that would have been too considerate, but was blasting his stupid gaming music out of the crappy speakers. To top it all off, he was eating crisps, sending crumbs flying everywhere when he yelled at his opponent.

Meanwhile, I was sitting at my desk, trying to study. "Gabe," I snapped, for probably the third time in five minutes. "Can you tone it down a little? I'm trying to do my homework."

Gabe looked at me, stuffed another handful of crisps in his mouth, and turned the sound up to its highest volume.

This little fucker.

Massaging my temples, I closed my eyes for a second. Being two years younger than I was, Gabe seemed to be intent on making up in attitude what he lost in age. It had been exactly the same the two nights before when I had tried to sleep, so this wasn't the first time we'd had this kind of argument. By now I was irritated and sleep deprived and was honestly considering throwing his damn laptop out of the window. Or him. I still had to decide.

But not right now when I had a summary of the first two chapters of Wuthering Heights to finish and two pages of Spanish vocabulary to memorize. By leaving, I knew I was giving him some kind of satisfaction, but I didn't care. Focusing on schoolwork was hard enough for me as it was, and I knew I wouldn't get anything done with him in the room.

So I got up and gathered my things, only stopping in the doorway once more to say, with as much authority as I could muster, "When I come back, your things had better be on your side of the room or I swear I'll burn them."

The only answer I got was a loud burp. Clutching my books so tightly my knuckles turned white, I slammed the door shut behind me. The looney-in-the-attic idea was honestly starting to appeal to me. That way, I would at least have my own bloody space.

With only an hour and a half before curfew, there weren't many quiet places around here to work; the common room for boys and girls was crowded in the evenings, and the Great Hall was being cleaned after dinner. There was the library, but Miss Pepperman would be there, and I didn't want to do my English Lit homework around her, knowing that she'd probably offer help and it'd be awkward.

I ended up strolling around the castle for a bit to see if I could find a room where I'd be undisturbed. The entrance hall was as eerily silent as it had been when Evelyn and I had first arrived, my steps echoing from the walls as I walked towards the door that led to the west wing.

The corridor behind it was darker than the entrance hall, with pictures of the school's former headmasters on the walls and myriad doors on each side. The eyes of the grainy black-and-white photos followed me as I hesitantly neared the first door to my right. I didn't know what was more of a surprise: that it opened when I pushed against it, or that the room behind it was a huge auditorium.

Entering felt a little bit like I was doing something forbidden, but the ceiling lights were on, so I figured it was okay to be in there. My steps were muffled by the thick red carpet that matched the velvet of the seats that went all the way to the back of the room. At the front, there was an empty stage, only some of it visible as the curtain was drawn.

Whistling quietly to myself, I climbed up to one of the highest rows and slumped into one of the comfortable seats. I decided that I liked this room. No Gabe and no trash lying around, and instead of stinking like decay, this room only smelled faintly like dust. In the long-awaited silence, I opened my Spanish book and muttered the vocabulary out loud, but I hadn't even finished the first half of the page when the door suddenly flew open with a loud bang.

I looked up in fear of seeing a teacher or, even worse, Amelia. Instead, my eyes landed on Jasper, the chiseled-out-of-marble-by-Michelangelo-himself lad who was in all my classes and seemed to be friends with Evelyn's roommate.

He didn't look in my direction and I doubted he even noticed me as he crossed the room to lean against the stage; after a few days here, I had apparently perfected the art of being invisible. I briefly wondered what he was doing here alone, but that question was answered when, one after another, about twenty other students filed in after him.

None of them seemed to notice me sitting in the back of the room as they went to sit down in the first row. I was grateful to remain undiscovered because it gave me the chance to really look at Jasper for the first time.

I had always liked watching strangers, to try to see if I could deduce anything about them just by studying their clothes, their expressions, the way they carried themselves. With Jasper, it was especially interesting. There was so much to see, so much worth a second glance.

The first thing that caught my eye—the first thing I had noticed upon seeing him in the Great Hall yesterday—was his bright silver hair. It was styled in a way that seemed effortless, tousled just enough to look like he had just rolled out of bed, a few strands falling onto his forehead. I could tell that his appearance was important to him, but that he didn't want other people to think it was.

There was something intimidating about his eyes, a piercing blue that intently fixed on the kids sitting in front of him. Or maybe it was his height. I already considered myself quite tall, but Jasper easily had a few inches on me. However, when my eyes drifted down his legs, I realized that this was also owed to the shoes he was wearing; black boots with a tall platform that looked higher than anything I had ever seen my sister wearing.

Those shoes weren't the only things that broke the school's dress code: he wasn't wearing the stupid blue jumper or the tie, only the white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was infuriating that the blue bowtie and suspenders he had added for some reason didn't look silly on him. With his perfect appearance and calculating gaze, he was a prime example of the type of unapproachable boarders who surrounded me.

I almost jumped when he spoke. "Salut everyone, welcome to the first rehearsal of the school year. We don't have much time, the premiere is in two months, that's only a few rehearsals before everything has to be perfect. I hope all of you have learned your roles over the break because today we are starting off book."

In class, he had only spoken a few short sentences at a time. Now, the French accent was unmistakable, with harsh Rs, barely there Hs, and sentences with a melodic rhythm, like a river flowing over stones.

"Sadly, as some of you may have noticed, Tom, the guy who did the electronic stuff, graduated this summer. So, until we find someone who's good at stuff like that, I will have to try to do the lights." He ran his fingers through his hair, grimacing a little, before he clapped his hands. "We'll start with the third scene. Into position, everyone, we don't have all night. Also, please appreciate the tower I spent the last week building with all the other early comers."

The others got up as soon as he was finished talking, rushing to stand in their positions. Two of them pushed open the curtains, revealing the stage, completely empty save for a tower made of papier-mâché and wood that stood in its center.

It had one window, and that's where the head of a boy with dark skin and even darker curls now appeared. At Jasper's signal, another guy, this one with a buzz cut, entered the stage and cautiously neared the tower. His eyes widened when he saw the boy sticking his head out of the window above, but before he could get too close, a girl wearing a scarf around her head and leaning on a walking stick shuffled across the stage.

While Buzz-cut Boy hid behind the tower, she croaked, "Rapunzel! Rapunzel, let your hair down!"

I sat up a little straighter, carefully closing my Spanish book.

Curly looked down at his mother with an exaggerated eye roll before he threw down some bedsheets that he had knotted together. "I cut my hair, Mom! Those extensions were tacky!"

The girl huffed, but grabbed the sheets and pulled herself up. Apparently, she was on the cheerleading team Amelia had talked about or something, at least I was sweating just watching her climb the tower. Once she reached the top, she sat down on the surprisingly sturdy windowsill and gave Curly's cheek an affectionate caress. "How was your day, my love?"

Curly slapped her hand away. "It sucked! Do you know how boring it is up here? You promised you'd install Wi-Fi . . ."

"Watch your tone, young man!" the girl scolded. "The last time I allowed you to be on the internet, all you did was text on Grindr! The last thing I want is to catch you up here with MuscleMan68."

"MuscleMan69," Curly corrected her.

I stifled a laugh as a few other students chuckled. A gay Rapunzel adaptation was . . . surprising, to say the least.

The girl shook her head with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Tomato, to-mah-to. I have to go now. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Whatever," Curly huffed and crossed his arms.

Seconds later, the girl was back on her feet, muttering something about how difficult teenagers were before she exited the stage.

"Say that line louder next time, Gina," Jasper said from the side.

The girl nodded and went back to her seat, slightly out of breath. On the stage, Buzz-cut Boy was rounding the tower to stand beneath the window and yelled, "Hey, Rapunzel . . . Come out!"

Curly poked his head out of the window and shouted, "Who are you? How do you know I'm gay?"

Before Buzz-cut Boy could answer, Jasper climbed onto the stage and interrupted the scene with a clap of his hands. "All right, thank you! Well done, Aiden, that was great," he said to Buzz-cut Boy. "Gina, next time I really want to hear you, but great job on climbing."

Gina giggled. "Thanks, Jasper. I worked out."

"I can tell," he said. Then he looked at Curly. "Sammy, can I talk to you for a moment? Everyone else, please prepare for the next scene."

The boy immediately turned and sauntered over to Jasper. It was hard to understand what they were saying from where I was sitting, especially as the rest of the drama club began reading their next lines out loud, but I could pick up bits of it. ". . . were so good . . . no, really, that was amazing . . . so glad that you joined the drama club . . ."

Sammy didn't seem to care about lowering his voice as he said, a sly grin on his face, "Do I get a reward for that?"

Jasper reached out to straighten Sammy's tie. "My roommate won't be back till eleven, chéri."

Only then did it finally click in my head and I rolled my eyes at myself. Of course they were together. How stupid to assume that someone like Jasper was single.

"That's what I like to hear." Sammy chuckled before he went back to his tower.

Meanwhile, Jasper turned on his heels and walked up the aisle between the seats. I tried my hardest to shrink back into my seat, but I shouldn't have worried. On his way to the small platform in the back of the room where the control panel for all the electronics and the spotlights was, Jasper didn't look my way once and walked right past the row where I was sitting.

"This scene once again, please!" he shouted. "I'll try to do some lights."

I watched him curiously as he stared at the control panel before him with nothing but confusion written on his face.

On stage, Aiden, the guy with the buzz cut, opened the scene. Jasper frowned as he pressed random buttons, and nothing happened. A moment later, he jumped when the ceiling lights right above him suddenly flickered on. Releasing an angry stream of French, he began hitting every button at once, only for the lights to rapidly flicker on and off.

Maybe it was pity for him, or maybe it was the fact that the way he hacked at the buttons physically hurt to watch, but whatever it was, it made my legs move almost on their own accord as they carried me up the stairs and towards Jasper.

He looked at me over his shoulder, raising one eyebrow, but took a step back to give me better access to the panel.

Without meeting his eyes, I reached around him and found the button to turn off the ceiling lights immediately. Then I turned a lever to turn on one of the spotlights and pointed the beam at the tower, following the silhouette of the girl currently climbing up the bedsheets.

Next to me, Jasper whistled quietly through his teeth. "Not bad, strange boy I didn't notice was here."

I turned to look at him but forgot what I was going to say. Up close, he was even more intimidating, especially since he was so much taller than me. I was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that my shirt was too big, the sleeves pushed up so they wouldn't fall over my wrists, and my tie wasn't knotted properly.

Jasper, amused at my prolonged silence, reached out a hand. "I'm Jasper Des Lauriers."

"I know," I said, shaking his hand—God, I hoped my palms weren't sweaty—and belatedly added, "I'm Seth. We're in the same class."

"Right. Want to do the lights today?"

The word tumbled out of my mouth before my brain could think. "Sure."

"Oh thank God," he said, the last word twisting up into a small laugh. "I probably would have caused a short circuit any second."

Some kind of short circuit had to have already happened in my brain because all I could get out was a softly echoed, "Probably."

"All right. The control board is all yours." Jasper slowly backed away. Just before he turned around, he offered me another brilliant grin. "Merci."

Whatever reply I had got stuck in my throat, so I just nodded. Watched as he made his way to the front of the room. Dragged my stare back to the stage. Adjusted the spotlight so it landed on Jasper's boyfriend.

And just like that, homework was suddenly my smallest concern.