Page 22 of Five Stolen Rings
Because whatever else Jack is, he’s not a liar—not about things like this, anyway. If he says Maude Ellery has something of his, I believe him.
“If you promise not to make trouble,” I continue, “I would even be willing to let you come over while I’m there.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You just think it’s a creepy old house, and you don’t want to be by yourself.”
“Well, itis,” I say, because I see no point in denying it. “And the portraits are weird?—”
“So weird,” he says with a shudder.
“So, yes.” I clear my throat and then go on primly, “If you’re going to be over there anyway, I’d prefer to have you there while I’m there,friend.”
And for a moment, he just stares at me, his eyes still narrowed, like he’s thinking hard about something. Then,finally, he nods.
“All right, friend,” he says, placing a delicate inflection on the word. “We can do this—on one condition.”
“If you say that I’m not allowed to fall in love with you?—”
“Not that,” he says, his eyes sparkling as his lips twitch. “Something else.”
I frown at him as something like foreboding zips up and down my spine. “We’re not reallydoinganything; we’re just going to be in the same place at the same time.”
“Just listen, please,” he says, rolling his eyes. He takes a deep breath and looks at me with something like hesitance. “How do you feel being around people drinking?”
I blink at him, feeling my brow furrow. “I feel…fine?” What a weird question. “Why?”
“You’re sure?”
My frown deepens. “…Yes?”
He nods. “In that case—I got roped into whatever get-together the twins mentioned.”
“Oh, no,” I say, shaking my head. “Nope. No way?—”
“And I need you to come with me,” he barrels on, “because I already told them I would go”—a muscle jumps in his jaw, and when he speaks again, his voice is tight—“but that was before they told me Nat would be there?—”
“Ha!” I say with a snort. “Definitelynot. You’re on your own.” I turn to push through the swinging door that leads to the back, but for the second time today, Jack’s hand wraps around my elbow.
“In return,” he says in a low voice, “I will help you with everything you’re doing at Maude’s, and I’ll stay there whenever you want. I just need you to come with me and pretend—” He breaks off, and I raise myeyebrows.
“Pretend…?”
“Pretend that we’re—you know.” He clears his throat and directs his gaze to a spot just over my head. “Together.”
I blink at him, and for a second, his words don’t register.
He lets go of me and scrubs one hand down his face. Then, as though every sentence pains him, he says, “Please, Stella. I can’t handle a whole evening of Nat by myself, especially if she thinks I’m single.”
Privately, I agree. Nat Flindowski was the devotee Jack never wanted, the one who asked him to every dance, the one whose locker was adorned entirely with his picture. He was good-looking even in high school, though it maybe wasn’t as blatant then as it is now; but Nat’s feelings for him were on another level.
I never really cared for her much.
“Just—cancel,” I say, but my voice breaks. He won’t cancel. If he said he’d go, he’s going to go. And the look he gives me—the one that saysIt’s like you don’t know me at all—has me sighing as my defenses crumble.
“Just one night?” I say. “One reunion or whatever?”
“Just one,” he says firmly.
“And you’ll help me at Maude’s?”
