The sub calls the class back to attention, but it’s a lost effort on her part. Even as we all quiet down, it’s obvious there’s only one thing anyone wants to talk about, and it’s prom.
People are angry and disappointed. I hear whispers wanting to demand answers of Aldridge, or even setting up a petition to go to the board directly. What they don’t realize is how futile all those efforts will be. While I’m sure the other board members bought the idea of safety first—hook, line, and sinker—I’m positive it was Mr. Angelle who brought it up, and the students’ safety is not his top priority.
Rat bastard.
I shoot a glance toward Saint. He’s looking at me, his expression determined. What’s he thinking? I never got a response from him about his father being on campus, but he’s got to be considering a similar scenario as I am.
When the bell rings at the end of class, I shoot from my chair and make a beeline for his desk before he can get away.
“Ellis,” he says.
“Angelle,” I reply, glancing around to make sure no one’s paying attention to us as they hurry from the room. “We need to talk.”
“Talk or talk.”
I jab my tongue in my cheek. “About your dad being on campus today.”
“And?”
“I think he’s the reason we’re not having prom,” I say when he climbs to his feet.
He slings his arm around my shoulder and starts ushering me to the classroom door. “Possibly.”
“Do you think there’s more to it, though?” I chew on my bottom lip nervously. “Like, could he use this to turn the whole school against me?”
“Paranoia’s got you stressed, little masochist.” Saint laughs and presses a kiss to the top of my head, which earns us more than a few stares and sneers. “Are you really so worried about what all these assholes think of you?”
I try to shrug under the weight of his arm. “Not necessarily, but I wouldn’t mind not being completely hated and despised for once in my academic career at Angelview, you know?”
He gazes down at me a moment, his brow furrowed.
“I got you. Besides, I promised you some normal high school experiences, didn’t I?”
Before I can question what he’s thinking, he stops in the middle of the hallway and raises his voice enough that everyone can hear him.
“Listen up, fuckers,” he snaps, catching everyone’s attention immediately. “Spread the word, prom is still happening, but at my house. Don’t be a shithead and come dressed up.”
There’s a loud, collective woohoo that rises into the air at his announcement, and I watch as people grab out their phones and immediately begin texting and posting.
He faces me, arms stretched wide, and I’m nibbling on my bottom lip when he joins me again.
“That was … over the top.”
“And you thought I was ignoring those corny ass movies you play while you’re bouncing on my—”
“Stop.” But I feel my cheeks heat and I can’t stop my grin from widening.
“Come on.” He drops his arm and takes my hand. “Let me take you back to your dorm.”
As Saint and I walk across campus, I feel so happy, it’s like I’m floating. I don’t even mind the blatant stares as we pass hand-in-hand, or the loud whispers speculating about what we are to each other. None of that matters. All that matters to me in this moment is Saint, and how shockingly thrilled I am to be at his side.
Like normal fucking people.
When we reach my building, we stop and turn to face each other.
“I’ll be back after track practice,” he says, pinching my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “We’ll watch another one of those lame ass movies, okay?”
I watch him go before heading into my building. I still feel like I’m floating as I make my way up to my floor, then down the hall to my room. Despite Mr. Angelle showing up, I have to say, today has been a good day.
When I open my door and step into my room, I freeze and realize I’ve spoken too soon.
Ghost is inside, waiting for me.
He gives me that mean, cocky grin of his and says, “The fuck you smiling like that about?”
I hurry to shut my door behind me and narrow my eyes into a glare. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs. “What else? Nora wants to see you.”
“Now?” I gasp.
He nods. “Yeah, now.”
Shit. I’m not ready to see her yet. I thought I’d have time between now and our Sunday meet-up to prepare what I’d say and how I’d act. Spur of the moment like this, I’m not sure I can keep a cool head around her.
“I’m not really in the mood to see her,” I say with a shrug.
Ghost’s lips curl and he seems entertained by my defiance.
“Well, then it’s a good thing I don’t give a shit about what you want, isn’t it?”
“Ghost, really, it’s not a good day for this,” I insist. “I can’t see Nora right now.”
“Again, I don’t give a shit,” he points out. “She wants to see you, and I want her happy, so you’re coming with me whether your skinny ass likes it or not.”
My mind scrambles to come up with something to distract him with. Something to dissuade him from making me go to her.
“What happened to your family, Ghost? Does she know what happened to your father? Does she know where your little sister is?”
“Why the fuck do you want to know so much about them?” he hisses.
“Well, it’s just that you’re so adamant that Nora’s been so protective and maternal of you, I’m just curious if she somehow fucked your family up as badly as she did mine.”
He looks confused—and increasingly agitated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nora is your family. You should be grateful that she’s given so much attention to you.”
“Grateful?” I release a bark of bitter laughter. “You really don’t know the truth about her, do you?”
“Watch that mouth of yours, bitch,” he growls. “You’re going to say something you’ll regret.”
He’s likely right, but I’ve come too far to back down from him now.
“Did you know Nora was responsible for my father’s death? Did you know she was working with Angelle back then? They plotted it together. She wanted my father’s money, and it was only an accident that she was anywhere near that house when it burned down. She’s been lying all this time. Angelle only targeted her after he found out she planned to betray him.”
Ghost stares at me for several long moments. I think I may have truly shocked him.
He shakes his head. “Lying slu—”
“Why would I lie? What would I have to gain? My mother helped kill my father. How do I win with that?” He looks at a loss for words. His mouth opens and closes several times, but no sound comes out, so I pull up the video on my phone and toss it to him. “I’m sure you’ll erase it to save her, but don’t worry, I have copies.”
He watches every second of the footage, a hand skimming his tattooed throat, a muscle working in his jaw. When he’s done, he stares at the dark screen for a long time, then places the phone face-down on my desk.