Page 58 of Because I Killed Him
“You mean about Jack and Edmund?” I ask.
Charlotte’s mouth quivers, and she presses her lips into a hard line. “I know I said I’m ready to talk, Lore, and Iam—just not about that.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” Her voice breaks on the word. “What happened between the three of us was my fault.”
I suspected as much back in the blue first-year carriage. Jack barely acknowledged her, and when he did, the pain in his expression was louder than any outburst. Unlike Edmund, Jack didn’t seem to want revenge. He just wanted her out of his sight.
“I’m not going to judge you, Char,” I say. “We all screw up.”
“Notthisbad. I know I made a big stink about the shot duel, but…” She pauses, her eyes darting away from mine. “If the scorpion had stung me, I would’ve deserved it.”
She pulls away and sinks onto the window seat, where a stream of sunlight harshly highlights the puffiness under her eyes. She looks like she hasn’t slept well in days.
I drift over, still curious, but I don’t push. Instead, I sit beside her and say quietly, “We can talk about whatever you want.”
“Thanks, Lore.”
Charlotte shifts into a cross-legged position and fishes an emerald-studded lighter from her pocket. I recognize the lighter as the one her mom gave her before she died. During our friendship, Charlotte never went anywhere without it. Seeing the lighter is comforting, a small sign that not everything about her has changed.
Charlotte’s fingers shake as she works a cigarette free from a gold case, and they shake even more as she tries to light it. I take the lighter from her, flick the flint wheel, and hold the flame steady at the tip of her cigarette. She leans in, takes a drag, then exhales a ribbon of smoke toward the glass.
“There’s a party in the Speakeasy on Sunday,” she says. “The spider’s going to be there.”
“Thespider?”
“Rosamund,” Charlotte clarifies. “Edmund’s twin sister.”
I recall seeing Rosamund in the dining hall earlier, one hand holding Edmund’s, the other clutching Jack’s. Her grip was possessive, as if the boys were the two halves of her heart, whether they wanted to be or not.
“I saw Rosamund with Edmund, Jack, and Dickie at lunch,” I say. “Does she have a thing for Jack?”
Charlotte coughs mid-drag, blowing out smoke in short, irritated bursts. “Hell, I wish it were just that. Rosamund isobsessedwith Jack… and with Edmund, too. Dickie says she can be perfectly nice when they’re not involved, but the second you get close to either one, you’re on her kill list.”
Charlotte flicks her cigarette ash. “That’s the only version of Rosamund I ever knew. She was everywhere when I was with Jack—always turning up, flirting with him right in front of me, showering him with expensive gifts as if she thought she could buy her way into his pants. You know that hovercar Jack picked us up in at the train station?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“The spider’s the one who gave it to him.”
I nod, understanding why Charlotte sat on her coat the whole ride. “Jack rejected her, though, right?”
“Yeah, but not in the ‘screw off’ way I wanted. Now that Jack and I have split, Rosamund knows I’m wide open. Worse, Dickie told me she found out Jack helped us on the train. She thinks I’m trying to get back together with Jack, so she’s gunning for me again.”
Charlotte drapes her hands over her knees, her gaze hardening as if she’s staring down a demon she chose to run from rather than face. And now it’s finally caught up to her.
“Why don’t you just skip the party?” I ask. “I put in for a dismissal with the Office of Student Affairs. You should, too.”
Charlotte lets out a dry laugh. “Ha—yeah, right. The Stag Leap Gala is a first-year rite of passage. Nobody skips it. Why don’t you want to go?”
Two Pinkies wheel in a steaming dinner trolley and park it by the window seat. I wait until the robots are gone before saying, “Because I’m pretty sure Irene is going to come after me during the party… maybe even try to kill me.”
Charlotte snorts, as if I’m joking. But then, realizing I’m serious, her smile falters, and she sits up straighter. “How, exactly? The Speakeasy’s got security up the ass. Even Irene can’t get away with shanking you in public for no reason. She’d disgrace herself and her whole family. And even if she’s crazy enough to risk it, you can fight back.”
“No… I can’t.”
“Why not?” Charlotte glances at my hand. “You’re healed now, so what’s the problem?”
