Page 21 of Bombshell

My vision is a field of red and black, and suddenly a vivid daydream of Windfall burning—like Tara in Gone With The Wind—comes to mind. The thing that really scares me, though, is that it doesn’t bother me in the least. I would burn this place to the ground just to watch the look on Angus MacLaine’s face.

“I’m going to destroy everyone who fucked me today,” I yell to whoever’s listening.

Cyrus overtakes me, rushing to the safety of his car as though he’s concerned about being arrested. It’s not like he doesn’t have bail money. “Look, man, I’m not saying it’s right. But I’ve seen it before with other families. They’re forcing her to choose between you and them.”

I climb into his Mercedes, still lost to the fantasy of watching this place burn.

“Let’s call Poppy. Maybe she knows what’s going on.” He starts the engine, and as soon as the controls unlock, he dials Poppy over the car’s speakers as he hauls ass down the driveway.

“Heya. How’d the trip to Windfall go?” she says, bright as ever. The girl could have a picnic in a hurricane.

Cyrus gives me an incredulous look before replying, “I’m in the car with Sterling now. We’re leaving Windfall. They wouldn’t let us see Adair. They threatened to arrest Sterling if he wouldn’t leave. Me too.”

“What the actual fuck?” Poppy says, and if she has cursed before, I can’t seem to remember. If I wasn’t ready to kill someone, it would probably be funny. As it is, her indignant response goes a really long way towards calming me down. If Poppy acted like everyone at Windfall, I’d know everything is lost. That means Adair hasn’t told her anything. Adair isn’t part of this. I hold the thought like a string of a balloon, knowing the second I relax, it will slip from my fingers.

“Poppy, what the fuck is up with Adair?” I want to come clean about having my scholarship pulled, but I can’t bring myself to.

“No clue. She told me she felt crappy and was going home. I just thought she wanted Felix to cook for her. Ava and I are awful cooks, and—”

“I just want to talk to her,” I cut off her nervous chatter. “Could you let her know?

“I’ll try.” She says it with the air of someone trying to turn back time.

“Poppy, doesn’t this seem like...you know?” Cyrus says, casting a worried glance at me.

Poppy sighs, clearly understanding what he meant. “It does. Look, Sterling, you should probably prepare yourself. I know things have been rough, and I’m sure Adair tried, but we’ve seen this before. Somebody falls for someone on the wrong rung of the social ladder, and their parents go mental. Payoffs, boarding school, you name it, it’s on the table.”

“Adair wouldn’t…” But I already know she would, because she just did. I just don’t want to accept it.

“Wait until you can get in touch with Adair. She’ll come around. You know what her father’s like. Maybe she has to make it look like she’s playing along.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” Cyrus says, jumping on board. “Things will get back to normal, but only as long as you don’t make the situation worse.”

“Exactly,” Poppy agrees.

“Sure, cool.” I don’t mean it. Have I been infected with the faux politeness of the South, too? Or am I too busy dwelling on what rung of the social ladder I’m on in their minds?

Or am I on it at all?

“Poppy, I’ll be over in an hour or so, okay?” He ends the call. “Back to the dorm room?”

I slump in my seat. “Can you stop at a liquor store on the way?”

Why the fuck not? There’s nothing left to lose.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“You got a better one?”

He doesn’t argue with me after that. Why would he? We both know the answer. There are no good options. No choices left to make. He can see that, even knowing half the information. I never stood a chance, which means that they’re all right about me. So, why not enjoy the little time I have left?

7

Adair

“Adair, you have to get out of bed today.”

Poppy’s voice, muffled by the closed door, cuts through the musty air in my room, waking me up from a nightmare. Sterling and I were in New York. We’d been struggling to get by, I think. He wanted us to charge people money to watch us have sex. He kept saying it was the only way. I’m clutching the covers to my neck when I wake up, drenched in sweat, and bolt upright, my nerves as ragged as the moment I fell asleep.