Page 57 of Hell House
I fling my towel into the laundry basket and find my leggings and oversized t-shirt that I’d stolen. I go over to my phone and see a few missed notifications. Skye sent me a bunch of pictures from our outing. I make a note to save these, noting the way that Graham stares at Skye in some of these. I’d need to feel her out later to see what she thought about that. I was all for a man who could cook, and those dimples? Please.
I see another notification from my Grams, alerting me that my card was paid, and she even upped the limit. Thank God. I decide to do some online shopping, first stop underwear.
I’m several carts into my online shopping spree, when I get another notification from Headmaster Hayden. My stomach sours. Something was off about that man, I could feel it.
I press open, scanning the email requesting a meeting with me tomorrow morning. Ugh. I hit reply wishing I could come up with some sassy remark, but I’m too tired to care. Fuck it. I hit accept to the meeting and put the time into my planner, wondering what the hell he could possibly want to see me for. I wonder if I can take a pillow with me to sit on, instead of having to wait in that god-awful torture chair.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Lukas
I’d slept in to find most of the house empty, including my roommate. Did she even come home last night?
The thought makes my stomach drop. Who would she have been out with? I decide a little light internet stalking was in order. She kept her Instagram as public, so it wasn’t really stalking, was it?
I pull up her handle and flip down to her stories. I had an anonymous username, and never posted anything. Enjoying my outsider perspective to the social media site, it allowed for me to interact without giving away any personal details. As a Ledger, I was expected to keep a certain public standard which included not sharing any personal details. As much as I might not share though, plenty of others did. Tagging the famous heir Lukas Ledger in a lust filled haze.
Her stories load with pictures of her out at Diablos last night. She’s swaying to the music, having the time of her life with Graham behind her. Graham? My chest constricts. I put down the phone, not wanting to see any more even though there’s several more posted.
When we’d first been possessed by our sins, Graham was my first conquest. We pretended it didn’t happen, but I’d be lying if I still didn’t think about how good it felt.
I decide to take out my frustrations on some sketching. Professor Whitelsbee was being stingy with how many classes I could sit in, claiming I wasn’t being a good model. One screw up was all it took with her, and I was feeling the brunt of that.
I lose myself in my art, until my hands start to resemble claws, and I’m sore from the hours I’ve been hunched over. Maybe I should take Sloan up on his stretching instruction he’s always offering. My stomach rumbles loudly, reminding me that I need to eat. This is why I couldn’t have plants. I’d kill them all by forgetting to water them. At least my body spoke up to me loudly when I got too in my head, as I often did. The real world was fucking insane, but in my art, I could control the chaos.
I emerge from my room to the sounds of laughter. They must be back.
“The fucking whale almost took you right out with it! I don’t know how we all managed to stay upright, and the guide was the one who got flipped.” Sloan’s voice booms up the stairs.
They all look wind whipped and tanned. Skye is perched on the edge of the couches arm next to Graham’s splayed-out form. I wonder what it would be like to be sandwiched between them. Fucking Lust, rearing it’s head again. I push it down waving to the group gathered in the living room.
“Hey Luk-ass.” Sloan calls out. “You missed an awesome day.”
Skye looks like she’s avoiding looking in my direction. From guilt or attraction, I can’t decipher her reasonings. Not for the first time I wish I was saddled with something like mind reading or flying. That would be a hell of a lot more useful.
I grab some cheese and meat from the fully stocked fridge and throw together a sandwich, careful of the mustard that I’d made sure to replace. You could never tell with Emmet though, the little fucker was too good at sticking to the shadows, pulling off pranks and spying on people. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree with that one. His dad had come by the house several times sweeping it for bugs. And not the creepy crawly kind. I didn’t give a fuck how Emmet’s family made their money, just as long as it didn’t affect me. Despite their less than legal dealings, they were generous- giving to several charities, including domestic violence survivors which earned them some points in my book. Maybe if my mom had a place like that… Fuck. I shoot down that line of thinking, aware of where thoughts like that tended to take me.
I shove the sandwich in my mouth, putting the ingredients back where they belong. One thing Graham cared about the most was this kitchen and his food. You never fucked with Graham’s food. He’d go zero to angry Nonna in seconds. He hated when his mother’s influence leaked out of him like that, but the rest of us just found it funny. I especially liked when he waved his spatula around scolding us.
I join them all back in the living room, sitting in the only empty chair across from Skye and Graham. I listen as they recount their day.
“I just hated stopping by that fucking cave.” Sloan says. Everyone goes still and I can tell Sloan wishes the words never left his mouth.
“What is it with you guys and that cave?” Fuck. She was far too smart, and we were far too obvious. Of course, she would pick up on our weird vibe.
“Seriously? No one wants to answer?” she glances around the room, but no one meets her in the eye.
“Ugh, whatever. Be weird. I need to go take a shower anyway.” I don’t miss the way Graham stares after her, like he’s considering joining her.
Shit. Are they already at that point? I rub my chest feeling dejected.
I head upstairs and barre myself in my room. I finish a homework assignment while Skye showers. I fill out the last problem, right as Skye bursts in clearly agitated and dripping wet. She’s wearing a terry cloth robe, and I ache to find out if she has any clothes on underneath. I watch as several drops of water run down her bare legs. I stifle the desire to trace my tongue along the same path of the water droplets.
“Ugh, you’re here.”
“Yeah, I kinda live here.”
“Why is everyone being so weird about that cave, Lukas? Seriously. It’s maddening.” She sits on the edge of her bed, her wet blonde hair cascading over her shoulder. She’s bare faced and fucking beautiful. I feel this attraction to her, beyond the Lust, beyond surface level bullshit. It’s like I’m seeing straight to her soul, wanting a chance for ours to entwine.
