What the fuck just happened?
Marek does as he promises by walking me to class. Along the way he ignores everyone who attempts their hardest to grab his attention. Every so many steps, I sense he’s paying far more attention to me than anything else. His sly smile matches mine when we are caught eyeing each other. There is a thunderous wave of whispers as we make our way through campus. Sidelong glares prove something everyone believes.
We don’t belong next to each other.
“Ever notice how much this place looks like Hogwarts?” I slow my steps and set my stare on the highest peak of the row of buildings. With strong and distinct lines and architecture, this place is unbelievably historic.
“What are you doing, Palmer?” Marek back-pedals to where I’ve stopped in the center of the sidewalk and pulls on my arm.
I hold my ground. “I’m appreciating what I have.”
“Let me guess, this is some sort of rambling from losing your sister? Some lesson her short life taught you?” He steps up to me shoulder to shoulder, and we both take deep breaths as if we share a set of lungs.
“Do you have to be so crass all the time?” Marek Hawthorne would be struck down by the devil if he showed a glimmer of sensitivity. That is one thing I’m certain of. Bosses don’t tend to appreciate lax employees.
“It’s what I’m made up of.” He elbows me, and I follow him towards the lecture hall. “That and other things.”
“Please, divulge these other attributes that make you who you are because I don’t quite understand you.”
“Funny from a girl who spreads her legs as thin as my patience without batting an eyelash.”
“I was trying to live a little, for a second, trying to understand.”
“Your sister.” He interrupts. “You’re curious how it all worked. How we worked.”
“I thought if I put myself in her shoes, even for a night, I’d maybe see how she ended up the way she did.”
“We had nothing to do with what happened to her, Palmer.” His voice carries a strong force, unwavering as if he believes what he’s saying is true.
“I want to believe you.”
“You do believe me, or else you’re no better than any of us up on the hill. You’d be a girl who slept with two of the guys who are responsible for the brutal demise of your heart.” He steps in front of me and bends down to hook his stare into mine.
“How’d you know?” I reach for the necklace through my shirt, gripping tightly to the silver locket. The sharp edges of the skeleton key bite into my skin.
Marek watches my hand. “Your sister didn’t keep our secrets from you, but she didn’t keep yours, either.” He watches me so attentively, I don’t think he realizes when he reaches up and grabs ahold of the hidden key around his own neck.
“Your heart. It’s what we’d say to each other, when things got bad at home, when our parents arguing seemed to never let up, or when one of us was worried about something. Like a way of saying ‘someone in this world has your back’,” I explain, knowing he already understands everything I’m saying.
Memories of Reed take over. Panic sets in, much as it has done hundreds of times since she’s been gone. It’s the universe’s way of reminding me there’s a hole in place of her. Nothing is the same. Not our family. Not school. None of it seems real without her in it.
Marek grabs me, holding me out in front of him by my arms. “Get it together, Palmer. Don’t let anyone see you cracking.”
“But I am.” I wave my hand in front of my face, a lame attempt to calm myself. “I’m cracking right down the middle.”
“Does this happen often? The attacks?” Marek cradles my face in his hands. Uncertainty and something else I can’t quite place shine back at me.
I try to regulate my breathing, but nothing is working. I clench my hands together, only to release the tight hold and shake them out.
A warm finger brushes along my skin, wiping away the evidence of my sadness. Marek. My eyes flutter, and through the thick dark lashes lining my eyes, I see him watching me.
“You’re only as weak as you allow them to believe you to be. You’re only as strong as you allow yourself to be. When it hurts, when you’re missing her so bad that it feels like it’s all collapsing in on you, take a minute and pretend that I’m standing in front of you.” He releases me from his hold, grabs my hand, and rubs his thumb over the back of it. “Notice all of my features and say them out loud to yourself. It’s a way to ground yourself, to bring you back from that dark place.”
“Inky, dark hair. Crystal blue eyes. A tight jawline. Your silver chain. The most immense soul.” I rattle everything off like it’s a grocery list, not like it’s everything he’s made of.
A goofy grin crosses Marek’s face. “See?” He runs his fingers over my collarbone and down to my hand, mingling his among mine until our hands are linked. “Your breathing is already calming.”
“Did you do that for selfish reasons, to hear the truth about what I see when I look at you?” I eye our connection, assuming he’s seconds away from dropping my hand. Instead, he guides me into the building. “Because what I see is different than what the rest of them see.”
“You shouldn’t see anything special in me, Palmer.” He deposits me into my seat. Surprisingly, he leans down on the top of my desk, resting his mouth against my ear. “The only interesting thing about me is you.”
His perfect lips glide away from my ear and over my cheek. The movement is slow and sensual. We have an audience, and still, I don’t push him away. What we’d shared in Byron’s bedroom is on display for our classmates to see. Leaning into him as his lips hit mine isn’t the best idea. We both shoot forward like a firework in the sky. Explosive. Unruly. Magical.
“Okay, you two, get a room,” Byron calls out, giving Marek and me no choice but to separate. He stands behind Marek, forcing him to step aside. “Or better yet, Palmer, find mine.” His accusation is a whisper, allowing only the three of us to bear witness to his words.
“Go fuck yourself,” I whisper, shoving him away from my desk. He stumbles a little bit, earning me an appreciative laugh from Marek.
With methodical movements, Byron runs his brown, sultry eyes up and down my body. “I know what that mouth can do, so I can only imagine what that tight little pussy of yours is capable of doing to a man. Weakening their knees, buckling their resistance, transforming their entire soul from a single pulse.” He licks his lips and backs away.
The class is none-the-wiser of our teacher’s words. They are blissfully in their own worlds, unaware of the debauchery happening under their own noses. Those who the Glass House Boys allow in know the rules. No one utters a single word. Secrets run this place. Always have.
“What my sister ever saw in Byron Decatur is a mystery to me,” I whisper as Marek takes the chair next to me.
“Sometimes we don’t need to understand others, Palmer. Sometimes it’s better to believe they see something redeemable.” He pulls out his notebook and leans back in his seat.
His stare shifts over his shoulder. Dixon sits next to Marek, while Breaker plops down next to me. The three of them stay silent yet manage to say so much by the seats they occupy during class. A single choice shifts the entire dynamic of our student body.