As the world turned to twilight, I felt something in my stomach harden. That house…I’d been in that house before. I’d sat on the street on watch for hours as I shadowed Celeste. This—my fucking awful luck—was shaping up to be exactly like that.
Jazmine Smith lived in the Fitzpatrick house.
She lived with Oliver, and yet she wanted me to investigate him? That didn’t bode well, and I couldn’t help but wonder just what shit Oliver Fitzpatrick had gotten himself into. Celeste had pretty much fallen off the map. As far as I was supposed to know, she and Astrid should still be in that house.
They weren’t, though.
I knew they weren’t. If they were, the news would’ve been all over them, constantly checking in. Something had to be up. Why was Jaz living there? I could think of no logical reason for her to be in that house, unless she was a distant relative.
She had the dark hair like Zane and Thorne, but her face, the level of warmth on her skin…no. She couldn’t be related. Her last name was Smith, one of the most generic names in the United States.
In my pockets, my hands clenched to fists the moment I decided I was going to find out just what the hell was going on here. Two birds with one stone, two jobs at once. I could handle it. The money would make sure of that.
Chapter Eighteen – Jaz
“So you’re going?” Bobbi asked, referencing the party. Since it was Friday, the choir class was pretty much left to its own devices. I’d long figured out that choir was basically half singing, half study hall, and I wasn’t going to complain. The days we spent singing were torturous.
Bobbi and I sat in the corner of the room, though I leaned away from her. She wore an oversized sweater, covering her mouth with its long sleeve. Her hair was a bit greasy and up in a bun; she’d told me she caught something and was in bed all day yesterday.
“Have you asked your mom yet?” she said, cocking her head, her hazel eyes boring into me like daggers. She knew my mom didn’t want me going out or dating, so she knew how badly tonight would probably turn out.
“Not yet,” I said. I’d figured it would be best to spring it on her and then storm out of the house; it would give her no time to argue with me. “I don’t want to do it early and risk her finding a way to keep me there forever.”
“And you’ve never been to a party before?” Bobbi asked to clarify, her voice muffled and sounding quite sore through her sweater sleeve.
I shook my head. “Is that lame?”
“Around here, yes,” she answered honestly. “Even I’ve been to some, and I’m what most around here would consider uncool.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I felt…strangely nervous about tonight, although I probably shouldn’t be. Didn’t tell Bobbi who’d asked me, who was driving me, and who I’d texted last night after getting home from the meeting with Jacob—but that was probably for the best. I didn’t want her to think I had a crush on the guy.
Even if, you know, I did.
But as it stood, I had a crush on Vaughn too, which was just stupid. So in reality, a crush meant nothing.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said, losing myself in the racing thoughts in my head. The rest of the class had broken up in groups, all chatting away happily. I wondered if any of them were going to the party tonight. It sounded like Bobbi hadn’t been invited.
Everyone seemed to like Archer. He was probably popular, whatever the hell that meant around here. To me, everyone at Midpark was the in crowd. Even the choir people who, at my old school, would’ve been considered geeks, seemed to fit in with everyone else. I could hardly get my bearings at Midpark High.
“Have you decided what you’re going to wear?” Bobbi asked. “Sounds like you have a date, so you should dress for a date.”
Dressing for a date. It was not something I’d ever had to do, so I felt clueless, utterly lost. I wasn’t sure I had anything in my closet that would count as date clothes. Nothing fancy, that’s for sure. I’d probably look like a loser next to Archer at this party.
The look on my face must’ve said it all, because Bobbi started to laugh—although her laughter was interrupted by a coughing fit. Once she had her lungs under control, she said, “You look lost.”
“I am lost,” I muttered, frowning. “What do people wear on dates?” God, that sounded like a ridiculous question, but I spoke it seriously. I might’ve snuck around with guys here and there before, but that was different than an official date. When you were running around between classes and during assemblies, you didn’t care what you looked like, only that you succeeded in hooking up.
Bobbi laughed again. “Oh, you need a lot of help. If I wasn’t feeling so shitty, I’d offer to come over and help you pick out an outfit.”
For a moment, I just stared at her, wondering if our friendship was at that level. I didn’t even know we had a friendship to begin with—was this how you started one, unofficially? Dressing the other?
Don’t get me wrong, I had friends at my old school, but…I never really clicked with them. There was something always holding me back, as if I’d had a sense of premonition and knew Mom would drag me states away during the middle of my senior year.
The bell rang, and we said our goodbyes. By the time I got to the cafeteria, Vaughn was already sitting and picking through his food. Today’s choice was a cheeseburger, along with some questionable-looking mac and cheese. He wore a short-sleeved shirt today, his black hair spikey.
He stopped fiddling with his food the moment I sat down, bringing that dark gaze to me. His tattooed hands seemed to tense, and I tried not to stare at them as I opened my lunch bag. That black stare made my heart do funny things, and even though I shouldn’t, I remembered that encounter in the restroom.
That kiss…how badly I’d wanted to do more, kiss him more, never have that moment end.
It was weird, having two crushes at once. I didn’t think I’d ever had feelings for more than one guy at a time. Sure, there was always the passing oh, he’s cute that popped in my head about certain boys, but never any of the heart-skipping, thigh-clenching variety.
Still, for someone who wanted to kiss him again—and do more—it was kind of funny how I was acting as if the kiss had never happened. Probably because it was official: I was getting Jacob to look into the Scott family. I didn’t want him to be pissed at me, which he definitely would be. But maybe he’d never find out. He probably thought I didn’t have the money to hire a PI, and technically he’d be right.
That money had come from somewhere, but I had too much on my mind right now to worry about that, too.
Vaughn, on the other hand, stared at me harder. I caught his eyes constantly dropping to my mouth, and the attention on certain body parts of mine made me hot in a way it shouldn’t. He hadn’t always been so blatant in his staring, but after the moment we shared in the restroom, it was almost like…well, almost like he thought I was his. His to stare at, his to kiss, his to do whatever with.
Some girls might like that, but I…I didn’t.
Not entirely, and that was mostly because I had a crush on someone else, too. My heart was currently being pulled in two different directions, and I had no idea what to do. A part of me hoped Jacob would find something terrible out about his family, and I could use that to distance myself from him.