Their eyes meet, and she goes completely still; I get the sense that she knows she’s in trouble.
“You didn’t think I’d hear about your bad behavior when I got back?” he asks with a long sigh, looking handsome as ever in his Whitehall prep blazer, slacks, and plaid tie.
“I thought you were dead honestly,” Kimber whispers, looking away as she finishes up the last, few steps. “Lying in a ditch somewhere.”
“So you thought you’d lure Dakota and Chasm to a group of girls with knives? If I were dead, that’s even more fucked-up. Didn’t you care that they might be feeling hurt, too?” Parrish studies her with that impossible gaze of his, the one that used to put me into a rage at the slightest provocation.
We said some horrible, horrible things to one another, that’s for sure.
“I ran away from you with Dakota in tow because I didn’t trust you or your friends either,” Chasm admits, and Kimber cringes. She looks like a kicked puppy right now. Part of me feels sorry for her, but the rest wonders if a verbal tongue-lashing from Parrish and Chasm isn’t an appropriate punishment. “You looked like you might try to kick her ass yourself.”
“I—” Kimber starts, but then Tess is popping her head back through the door.
“We have to go, honey,” she says softly, and Parrish sighs. “If there’s time left, I’ll drop you off at Whitehall in the afternoon.” Tess doesn’t move, waiting there for Parrish to join her and effectively ending the conversation.
Parrish gives Kimber another scathing look before he smoothes his expression into a neutral one and turns away to leave with Tess.
“Stay safe,” he calls casually, and then he disappears out the door and takes my heart with him.
When I glance back, I see that Kimber is watching me very, very carefully.
“Ooh, you’re in trouble,” Chasm purrs, frowning down at the little sister that Parrish and I share. “As you should be.”
She says nothing, slipping past him and into the garage to slump in the backseat of his car. It’ll be awkward riding with us, I’m sure.
“This should be interesting day,” I start, and Chasm shakes his head, pushing his lightning bolt bangs away from his forehead and giving me a look.
“Interesting? I sure as fuck hope not; I hope it’s boring and studious and plain. If I only have one wish left, that’d be it.”
He moves around me, careful to put distance between us, and disappears into the garage.
Maxx pads quickly down the first few steps of the spiral staircase, putting his hands on the railing and offering me an encouraging smile.
“Good luck today, Kota,” he tells me as I smile back.
“Thank you.” The words are as honest and as heartfelt as I can make them. X nods, as if that’s all he needed to say, and retreats back upstairs to—this lucky bastard—sleep in a little more. Seeing as he already finished his studies and made breakfast for us this morning, he deserves it.
I squeeze my hand around the strap of my book bag, ignoring the annoyance I feel when my fingers brush the metal heart pin, take a deep breath, and head off to join them.
If I were an outsider looking in at Whitehall Prep—as I once was—I’m sure I’d find it very grand looking, with its imposing white stone walls and towers, its spires. As an insider? It looks dreadful, like a fanciful prison full of horrible people.
This is truly just the prep center for the rich and horrible.
As soon as Chasm, Kimber, and I walk in the doors of the third-story courtyard—nobody’s around to throw me over the edge today, which is nice—we find ourselves at the center of the academy’s collective attention. I keep thinking I’ve really and truly felt it, that horde of glittering demons staring at me with their intensity unmasked.
But, apparently, they’ve been holding back.
I really feel it today, the way they watch us as we pass. Nobody heckles us or throws things or scowls. In fact, they don’t talk at all. It’s dead silent.
“Holy fuck,” Chasm murmurs, but he seems somewhat relieved by the quiet, exchanging a glance with me as Kimber peels away from us and takes off down the right hallway. Chas and I turn left, and he deposits me at my classroom the way he’s been doing for weeks. “Hey.”
He puts his hands on my shoulders and gives them a squeeze, one that I think is supposed to be friendly but that takes my breath away instead. He’s just that pretty, and I like him just that much. I almost wish that I didn’t, so things could be easier with Parrish, but that’s not how love works. And anyway, I’m too selfish; I wouldn’t give my feelings up for Chasm or Maxx, even if I could wave a wand and make it happen.
