I can’t tell Loni anything, though, and that kills me. Of all the people I’d want to have in my corner right now, she’s near the top of the list. I just can’t put her at risk. I can’t make her an accessory by accident or put her in Nora’s crosshairs.
Plus, selfishly, I’m afraid if I tell her everything that’s happening, she’ll not want to be friends anymore.
Typical Mallory Ellis, the voice in my head teases. Or should I say Eden Jacoby?
I really fucking hate that voice just as much as I hate the reminder of who I really am.
Eden.
Nora’s daughter.
I liked things better when I thought my mom was a small-town addict and part-time meth chef who slept around with truck drivers and dads that she picked up at PTA meetings.
“Really, Loni. I’m fine. There’s nothing more than usual, anyway.” I decide to try and distract her. “What’s new with you? How’s the Brandon situation going?”
To my surprise, a deep blush stains her cheeks.
“I suppose there’s been a development of sorts.”
I straighten in my seat, leaning closer to her, genuinely intrigued.
“Oh? And what development is that?”
She drops her gaze to the table and starts wringing her hands in her lap. “He asked me out. This Friday. Just to talk, you know, about everything that went down last year and clear the air.”
“Even after you said no to prom?”
She hesitates. “Well … I didn’t exactly say no.”
“What?” I exclaim, shocked.
She waves her hands and gazes around with wide eyes, no doubt worried I’ll get us in trouble or draw unwanted attention.
“It wasn’t a hard no,” she clarifies. “I told him I didn’t think I could get over what happened last year, and he said he understood. That’s when he suggested we go out and talk.”
I stare at her, completely baffled. “What’s Henry have to say about his?”
After all, Nick is his brother and Brandon had shielded his teammates from being exposed.
She sighs, but I can’t deny how miserable she seems when her shoulders sag forward. “He’s not thrilled, but he says he understands. I don’t know, Mallory. I just … I just feel like maybe I should give him a chance to talk.”
Though I’m surprised, I can’t really blame her, and really, how hypocritical would it be for me to try and convince her the guy she thought she was in love with isn’t capable of being a decent person? After all, I’m wrapped up in a clusterfuck of feelings with one of the worst people I’ve ever met.
“Well, if you’re happy with the choice, then that’s all that matters,” I shrug.
She looks a little stunned by my words. “Really? You don’t think it’s a mistake to go out with Brandon?”
“It might be, but it’s not nearly as big of a mistake as the countless ones I’ve made with Saint.”
A tentative smile curls her lips. “He’s not that bad, I guess.”
I chuckle at her sad attempt at reassurance. “Says the girl who warned me away from Hot Draco. You don’t have to lie, Loni, we both know he’s terrible, but apparently that’s my thing. Terrible, no good, very bad relationships.”
I wish it wasn’t. I really, really wish it wasn’t because wanting him has me questioning every aspect of my sanity and intelligence.
Turning my thoughts from Saint back to Loni, I lean in closer to her and ask, “So … where’s he taking you?”
5
7:53 AM: Where are you? I’m worried. Please respond.
I fire off the text and let out a frustrated breath. It’s Friday morning, and I’m on my way to first period, but my mind’s occupied with Liam. There’s still been no sign of him. Worried is an understatement for how I feel. I’m borderline terrified. Saint continues to refuse to tell me anything, and Gabe remains as clueless as ever. I’ve tried texting and calling Liam several times as well, but he’s never answered or responded.
Staring down at my phone’s screen, I have little hope that he’ll reply this time either. As I walk into the academic building, I’m just about to tuck my phone away in defeat when it suddenly pings and sets my heart racing. Disappointment stabs through me when I see that it’s an email, though, not a text.
The email is from Ravenwood’s Headmaster.
Opening it, I skim through the message. Headmaster Poynter suggests I connect with a girl named Kristyn McKay, the student body president and head of the Ravenwood History Club. It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but it’s better than nothing. Reaching my classroom, I make a mental note to email Kristyn later, then tuck my phone in the pocket of my blazer before stepping through the door.
I freeze when I see Saint sitting at the desk right behind my own.
Sonofabitch. He’s been doing this in all our classes together. Moving his seat so he gets closer and closer to me, but he never says a word.
It’s fucking annoying.
Storming toward him, I put my hands on my hips and snarl, “What do you think you’re doing?”
He blinks up at me in exaggerated innocence, but it just looks sexy on his stupidly good-looking face. “Sitting.”
“Well, go sit somewhere else. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“Don’t know what you’re so worked up about. I’m just here to learn. Harvard and Princeton might rescind my invitations if I flunk out, you know.”
Gabe, who’s sitting nearby, lets out a snort. I glare at him before returning my attention to Saint.
“You’re becoming a nuisance. Does Harvard and Princeton know that?”
But I can’t deny I’m envious. While I was a little late getting my college applications out, I’ve yet to hear back from any of the schools I applied to.
Saint leans forward, resting his arms on the top of his desk and grinning up at me.
“What color panties are you wearing? That’s all I want to know.”
It takes every ounce of my willpower not to slap him right then and there. Since that has a 99.9 percent chance of getting me expelled, I give his shin a kick before spinning away from him.
“Ow,” he drawls, but it’s so exaggerated it makes my ears burn hotter.
I plop my ass into my seat and do everything I can to ignore his very existence. He goes out of his way to make this impossible, though, because he’s a jackass.
“Not only did you assault me, but you also didn’t answer my question.” His voice is low, his breath hot on my neck, making me shiver from head to toe. “What color, Ellis? Are they the little black ones with the flowers or the—”
“It’s none of your business.” I keep my eyes locked straight ahead. The teacher is calling the class to order, but I’m not naïve enough to think that’ll stop Saint.
“Maybe you’re not wearing any.” He must be leaning so far forward that he’s right behind me. I feel his fingertips on my nape, and my thighs clench when he tangles a lock of my hair around them. “Is that it, Mallory? Did you not wear panties, just hoping I’d want to sneak a taste of your pretty pussy between classes? I knew you were full of shit when you said you were done.”