Whatever the reason, he isn’t breaking rank with Saint, which just puts me back right where I started.
Anger heats my blood, and I release a breath of frustration. “Well, while I appreciate the advice, I’ll tell you the same thing I told Saint: I’m not going anywhere!”
To my surprise, he smirks and shakes his head. “Fuck, Saint was right about you.”
I furrow my brow, my heart beating with panic. “What? What does that mean?”
He just chuckles, and I clutch the rope as my panic blossoms into fury.
“Watch your back, Ellis. You think Saint’s been rough so far? You haven’t seen anything yet.”
With that, he turns and swims away from me to the edge of the pool, climbing out without giving me the answers or the help I was so desperate for. I watch him go, my heart sinking to the bottom of the pool.
8
“Why did I sign up for AP Biology again?” Loni whines, then bangs her forehead against her open book. “It’s awful. Mr. Wilkes is awful. Why did I do this to myself?”
I glance up from my textbook with a wry grin. “Because you want to get into Yale. Regular Biology does not get you admission into Yale.”
She grumbles under her breath. Henry, who is spread out next to her with Dorito climbing all over him, shares an amused glance with me. It’s Friday night, and the three of us are huddled in Loni’s room studying for an exam coming up the following week. She and Henry are laying side-by-side on her bed, and I’m on my stomach on the floor. I need to roll over onto my back, though, to bring feeling back into my elbows, which have been supporting my weight for the past half hour.
I let out a deep sigh and stare up at the ceiling, my thoughts wandering to Liam. I haven’t gone back to the pool since he made it clear he wouldn’t help me with Saint. There doesn’t seem to be much left for us to talk about, really, and I can’t stand the thought of staying on friendly terms with him when he won’t lift a finger to defend me against his friends.
Still, despite how angry and disappointed I am, I’m a little sad, too. I kind of miss our late-night swims, which is weird as fuck to realize. Being able to co-exist with him in that space had given me a deceptive feeling of hope that things could get better for me. Without him and that hope, forcing myself out of bed every morning has become a feat of immense willpower.
I wish I hadn’t said anything to him. I wish we could go back to before, when I could still hang onto that hope.
The sudden ping of a phone pulls me from my depressing thoughts, and I glance up to see Loni reading something on her screen. Her eyes light up and she looks down at me as her glossy lips curl into a grin.
“What is it?” I ask, surprised by her growing excitement.
“So, I just got a message from my friend Martha who’s super cool and not a dick that there’s a party happening at a nearby beach tonight. She wondered if we all wanted to go?”
“We?” I almost scoff at the notion that anyone would invite me to a party.
Loni nods her head emphatically. “Yes, we. Martha and her friends don’t run in Satan’s circles. They’ve got no reason to hate you, and she knows we’re friends, so she specifically included you in the message.”
“Let me see.” I’m not going to believe it until I have definitive proof that she’s not just trying to make me feel better about being a loser.
She hands me the phone without hesitation, and to my shock, I see she’s right. Martha did mention me by name in her text, as well as Henry.
I hand the phone back to Loni, a little dumbstruck.
“Um…I mean, I guess that could be fun—”
Loni lets out an excited shriek and bounces off her bed, which sends her kitten screeching and racing toward the bathroom. “Yay! This will be so great for you, Mal, to just hang out with people who aren’t psychopaths. There might still be hope for your social life!”
I sit up and watch her skip to her closest, startled by her exuberance. While I appreciate her determination to save me from my state as a social pariah, I’m not optimistic that one beach party is going to undo all the damage Saint and his crew have done to me.
Still, it does sound like fun, and I don’t want to disappoint Loni, so I slap on a big smile when she reemerges from her closet with a cute white summer dress, and act as excited for the night as she is.
The party ends up being not terrible.
In fact, I would go so far as to say I’m having a good time. Loni was right, Martha and her friends are cool people. They all kind of claim to be fringe-types at Angelview—none of them are really friends with Saint’s crew and they wouldn’t consider themselves that popular, but they’re happy to keep to themselves and avoid the drama that seems to follow the “cool” kids wherever they roam. It’s a chill group, and none of them so much as shoot me a stink-eyed glare.
I have to admit, it’s pretty great not feeling totally despised.
Loni comes bounding up to where I’m standing by a large bonfire, a red Solo cup clutched in her hand.
“Having fun, my love?” she asks, her eyes glittering with hope.
I smile and nod. “Yeah, actually. I really am. Thanks for bringing me.”
An enormous grin lights up her features. “You deserve a little fun after everything you’ve put up with. I’m just glad you were willing to give these guys a shot.”
“Me too.” I take a sip of the drink she brought me—vodka and cranberry juice—and let myself truly relax for the first time in weeks.
There’s music playing from someone’s Jeep—one of Dua Lipa’s newer songs—and I feel the urge to start dancing. I sway my hips back and forth, the hem of the flirty blue and white off-the-shoulder dress I’d borrowed from Loni swishing around my hips and thighs, as I drink a little more. The vodka warms me up from the inside out, and I begin to feel like a regular teenager with no baggage holding me down. No M.I.A mom. No past mistakes looming over my head. No accident to weigh me down with guilt and nightmares.
I’m just a normal girl with no real worries.
History should’ve taught me that no good thing lasts forever.
As Loni and I are dancing and laughing around the fire, Henry suddenly comes running up to us, his expression a mixture of rage and panic. We freeze, and my brow puckers as dread unravels in the pit of my stomach.
“What’s up?” Loni asks, stepping toward him to rest a hand on his shoulder.
He’s not looking at her when he answers, though. He’s looking at me.
“They’re here.”
I know the answer before I even say, “Who’s here?”
“Saint and those motherfuckers. They all just drove up to crash the party.”
I feel instantly sick, the dread not mixing well with the vodka swirling in my stomach. For a moment, I think I might puke, but I keep it together and take a deep breath to collect myself.
“We should get out of here,” Loni murmurs, turning to me with concern bright in her dark eyes.
Then they’d just think I’m a coward.
“No.” I comb a frustrated hand through my hair and shake my head. “I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me run away. We were here first. I’m not leaving just because those jackasses show up.”