Page 3 of Trust Fund (The Trust Fund Duet 0.50)
“What?”
“Go back down and play with your calculator.”
There’s a pained pause. “I can’t. Not when I know you’re up here, getting high and hanging off a two-hundred-foot yacht. If something happened to you—”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” The sea takes that moment to bump bump bump me, my ass a full two inches off the rail with every pull of the yacht. I’m holding on tight so I don’t go flying, not forwards or backwards, my perch secure.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather paint a mythical creature on the observation deck?”
“I know you’re making fun of me right now, but no. I don’t have enough paint for that.”
“Can you just sit on a deck chair like a normal person?”
“Do I look normal to you? Don’t answer that.”
There’s a flash of white teeth. That’s how I know he’s smiling even though the rest of his face is in shadow. The smile is there one second and gone the next, as temporary as his presence in my life but strangely momentous. “I’m sorry I called you a poor little rich girl.”
“Are you just saying that so I’ll get off the railing?”
“Is it working?”
“No, but I appreciate the effort.” And strangely that was true. No one ever cared enough to follow me up to the deck at midnight, to make sure I didn’t fall into the ocean. It makes me want to prove myself to him, to convince him that I’m worth saving even if he apparently already thinks so. “Medusa wasn’t for attention. I mean it was, but not because I wanted Daddy to pay for a new science lab.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
“This girl got roofied at a party.”
He sucks in a breath. “Harper.”
“It wasn’t me.” I glance sideways to see his black eyes staring at me, so hard and fierce it almost seems possible that he can go back in time and rip the balls off a frat boy. What would he say if he knew my past? “It wasn’t me, I swear. I wasn’t even friends with her.”
After a searching look, he turns back to the ocean. “A girl got roofied.”
“Everyone knew about it, like the next day. One of the football players slipped it in her drink, and then the football team, I mean the entire football team, took advantage of her.”
“Christ.”
“They suspended the guy who brought the roofie to the party, one of the players, but not the one who gave it to her—the quarterback. And not the rest of the team. A big game was coming up. You can’t play a game without all your players.”
He’s quiet a moment. “I’m sorry.”
For that I pass him the joint and watch while he takes a drag, his lips touching where mine have been. “The honor society set up a protest and everyone who went got suspended. And after all that there wasn’t a single word about the party in the local papers. The morning before the game there was going to be a big pep rally with the cheerleaders and the school’s donors. The press was going to be there. They had the janitors stay late shining the floor. Real press, from a newspaper that wouldn’t take money not to print the story.”
He passes the joint back to me. “So you painted Medusa.”
“She was raped by Poseidon, which so happened to be the school mascot.” I have to blink away stupid tears. I don’t know why it would make me cry now, when it didn’t before. Not when I had to walk down the hallway next to boys who would hurt me if they had the chance. When I had to wear my skirt a certain length and my hair a certain way, as if I was the reason they were cruel.
“Did everyone turn to stone?”
I look
down at the water, where I can see more white crests against the ink. It looks rough for a calm night. “The reporter took pictures and started asking questions, but he didn’t get the whole story that day. A week later the story was printed. The entire team was suspended. The headmaster was ready to suspend me too, but Daddy flew down and smoothed it over.”
“The science lab.”
“Which means I’m no better than those players, using my family money.”
His voice is soft enough I have to strain to hear it over the murmur of the waves. “You’re plenty better, Harper. Don’t you ever doubt that. You’re fucking gold.”
