Tristan elbows him hard. “If the two of you do not stop discussing literal crimes as loud as you possibly can in public, I’m taking Winter and switching schools. You can find a new goalie.”
Hayden turns to glare, but then sees one of the underclassmen staring at him, pale as a ghost.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” Hayden growls. “Get the hell away from me before I add you to my list.”
The guy scrambles away without even knowing what the infamous Hayden Lockwood list of people he wants to kill even is.
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing.
Tristan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I swear to fuck if you don’t start using your indoor voices...”
“Is that what Winter calls it when she sings you to sleep?” Hayden snickers, but sobers when Tristan hooks his foot around his ankle and trips him.
“She does not sing to me, she hums,” Tristan clarifies, and I lose it because we think we’re such bad asses and this is what we really are.
Tristan and Hayden bicker all the way to the showers. I hear Hayden snap a towel, and I know it made contact with Tristan’s skin because he’s for sure not using his indoor voice right now.
I’d usually laugh and talk some shit on both of them, but I’m stressed out over this whole arranged marriage thing the Fairbanks are trying to pull on Lilac.
I lean back on the bench, breathing hard.
I can’t let her marry him. I can’t let herpretendto want him.
Even if she never looks at me the way I want her to, I can’t stand seeing her with someone else. Let alone someone she very much does not want to be with.
Even if she never knows how I feel about her, even if it will ruin everything I’ve strived so hard to preserve since the Fairbanks took me in, I’m going to have to do something.
Because if I have to watch Lilac with that smug twit for another second…
I’ll make Hayden’s list look like a children’s book.
LILAC
I’m late.
Of course I’m late.
The GPS rerouted me through two winding back roads, and I circled the block twice, trying to find the valet stand. My phone buzzes for the third time since I parked, and I know it’s Vincent.
He’s going to mention it. Of course he is. Because being late means I’m unreliable. Flighty. Emotional. All things he and my parents believe I need to be “fixed” for.
This dinner is the compromise for my parents not ripping me out of school after the whole mansion debacle. My brother, of course, made things so much worse. According to my mother, he left out the fact that he had sex with my friend Lexi in the woods while her boyfriend stood idly by. Instead, he told her that he only showed up that night because he was worried about my poor choices.
Speaking of poor choices. I was grilled about Callum, and what’s going on between us. Mom didn’t laugh when I said, “I wish someone would tell me.” Apparently, my brother decided it would be good to tell our parents that he thinks I’m sneaking around with Callum. Like it would be a crime to date him. Ialways thought that my parents liked Callum because they took him in when he was a kid. He killed his own father in self-defense, and there was a lot of turmoil in his family due to everything that was going on. I found out last night that Callum’s grandmother paid my parents to take him in. I don’t know why, but the thought made me tear up. I think because Callum has always praised them for stepping up for him. I don’t want to keep secrets from him, but I hope he never finds out. I think it would hurt him dearly. One thing I can say is that what I’ve felt for him has always been genuine.
I just need to get away from my parents hold, and soon. I’m looking into it, but I’m pretty sure my grandmother’s estate is paying for my tuition at Castlebrook, which would mean they can’t do anything to me or force me to come home. If that’s not the case, then I need to make some hard decisions. I’ve never had a job, but I’d rather struggle trying to find one and pay my own way, even if that means having to drop out of school. I’m only here tonight to buy some time until I can figure things out. All I can think about is that dead girl and Mina’s scared eyes just before she was shoved down the stairs.
When the police made it clear that they thought we were just a bunch of reckless college students, I shut down. There was no use in arguing with them when we had no proof of what happened that night.
I take a deep breath, smooth my hands down the front of my soft lavender sweater, and push open the door to Laurent’s. It’s the kind of restaurant with white tablecloths, low lighting, and an imported bottle of water that costs more than my favorite jeans. Vincent insisted on sending a car for me, or picking me up himself, but I made what felt like seventy-four excuses to be able to drive myself. He’s pushy, but in a polished way that makes other people think he’s just looking out for whatever girl he’s trying to push into doing something.
I spot my Vincent right away despite only having seen a picture Mom sent of him.
He’s already seated. His posture is perfect. His expression? Annoyed. But controlled. Too controlled.
He’s older than me by a few years. I think Mom said he’s twenty-five, but he looks like a politician twice that age.
I paste on a polite smile and make my way over, trying to ignore the way his eyes rake over me like he’s evaluating a business transaction. He doesn’t rise to greet me.
