Who is this girl sitting across from me?! Because it sure in hell isn’t Ashton. I mean, she is. But there’s not a single authentic thing about her, and it’s pissing me off. I continue to stare at her, waiting for my friend to split this plastic veneer open and crawl out.
I barely notice when Sophia and Lance join us.
“What’s up, cuz?” Lance asks, sitting next to me. I shoot daggers at him. He’s oblivious. “You look great, Ashton.”
“Thank you.” She smiles brightly. “Nice that someone noticed.” I think she’s talking about me, but her attention is focused behind me.
The chair beside me scrapes on the linoleum, and Brendan sits, setting a plate of grilled salmon and Brussels sprouts in front of him. I grimace in disgust.
“You can’t sit next to me and eat that,” I tell him, scooting my chair away.
I await the arrogant rebuttal, but nothing happens. That’s when I realize the entire table is silent. I look from Brendan to Ashton. She isn’t eating. She’s posed with her arms crossed, waiting for Brendan to acknowledge her. But he’s obsessively cutting his salmon into the tiniest pieces, like he’s about to feed them to a squirrel.
Sophia concentrates on stabbing her peas like it’s an Olympic sport, and Lance ping-pongs his eyeballs between Ashton and Brendan, anticipating who will break first.
And … it’s Ashton.
She throws her entire plate across the table at Brendan. He pushes back to get out of the way but not fast enough. The plate lands upside-down on his lap. He stares at it with his hands raised, like he can’t figure out what to do next.
The room freezes like someone scratched a record. Other than a few gasps and captured giggles, no one moves. If they had their personal phones, I'm sure this would be trending. Just as quickly, the murmur of voices picks up and everyone has moved past the drama, like it’s yesterday’s headline.
Ashton rises and struts across the dining hall as if it’s a catwalk. I stare after her.
“What the hell did you do?” I demand.
Brendan shoots me a sideways glare. “None of your fucking business. Stay out of it.”
“You’re such an asshole!” I snarl, chucking a roll that bounces off his forehead. Lance laughs loudly, pointing at Brendan’s stunned expression. I rise and race after Ashton. But I don’t find her. Not in her room, unless she’s refusing to answer. Or anywhere in the dorm. And she’s not at Screaming Point either. She could be roaming the Court, but I may never find her there. I walk around it for as long as I can anyway until I’m forced to return to my room for curfew.
She finally answers my hundredth call as I’m approaching the dorm.
“Hey, what’s up?” she answers with a smile in her voice.
“Um, are you okay?” I ask carefully.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her sing-song voice grates on my nerves.
“Ashton. Be real, please. What happened with Brendan? You can trust me.”
“I know,” she says, all pretenses gone. Her voice is flat. “But I can’t tell you.”
Then she hangs up. I stare at my phone, trying to decide if I should be angry or worried.
The tension between Ashton and Brendan becomes so intense, I can’t be in the same room with the two of them. That’s when they’re in the same room together. And it’s not because they argue. Hell, they don’t even look at each other. Brendan continues to be his arrogant, can’t-be-bothered self, and Ashton gets high—All. The. Time. It’s amazing she can function and has yet to get caught. Especially when it carries over to the country club. I hear about it from Grant, who’s honestly concerned for her. Even Lily says something about Ashton spiraling, and she doesn’t see her nearly as much as we do.
“Do you think you should talk to her?” Lily asks when she bumps into me in the library a few days after the food bomb.
“I’m trying,” I reply. “But she won’t respond to my texts, and whenever I see her, she’s so out of it.”
“I know,” Lily says in a hush, glancing around. “I saw her drinking in the service area of the Green yesterday. She’s not even hiding it. If she doesn’t pull herself together, the club will fire her.”
I sigh.
I seriously have no idea how to handle this situation. Ashton is my first authentically emotional friend. And I may not be saying that just right. What I mean is that Nina and Tori deal with their problems. If something’s bothering them, they let it be known—sometimes with a punch to the throat. Or a tongue-lashing so severe, the recipient is left in a fetal position, muttering to themselves. And I pretty much coped the same way.
Whatever we can’t deal with, we sort out on our own behind a suit of armor. We confide in each other, but we aren’t really … vulnerable. Things tend to get thrown and shattered. We’re not big on tears. So this is completely unknown territory for me, and I have no idea how to be a supportive friend. I’d leave her alone and let her have her space, except I can’t stand by while she self-destructs.
I notice Grant enter the library. When he sees Lily talking to me, he visibly slows and ducks down another aisle. So … everyone’s avoiding each other? The only person I can’t seem to get away from is Lance. He’s always finding me, in the Court, at the gym, and at every meal. And his enthusiasm hasn’t gone unnoticed by Sophia, the only other person who has been sitting with me in the dining hall lately. Her suspicious glances are starting to worry me.
That brings me back to Lily, standing in front of me, asking me how I’m planning to save Ashton from herself.
“I’ll keep trying to talk to her,” I tell Lily.
“Maybe you should talk to Brendan. This has to be his fault.”
“Probably.” The last thing I want to do is talk to Brendan. Throttle him, yes.
“Anyway, I have to go to the computer lab for this tutoring session. I’ll see you next weekend,” she says before disappearing.
“Uh, okay,” I respond, having no idea what she’s talking about.
I watch her disappear down the aisle toward the entrance. Maybe she’s having another party and doesn’t realize I’m grounded and won’t be able to attend.
As soon as she’s out of sight, I search for Grant. I locate him in the Biography section, skimming a book on Albert Einstein.
“Looking for fashion tips?”
He raises his eyes from the page and smiles when he discovers me concealed behind the book.
“Do you think I could pull it off?” He holds up the iconic image of Einstein with his electrified hair.
I look from the picture to Grant. “Not the hair. The mustache, maybe.”
He runs his fingers over his clean-shaven skin. “I’ll start growing it out today.”
I laugh. He sets the book back on the shelf. I check over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone. “Were you avoiding Lily?”
“That obvious?” He grimaces guiltily.
I nod.
“Ever since you told me that her dad may not be her father, I’m having a hard time talking to her. I want to tell her, but I know I can’t.”
I groan. “See! This is your Integrity curse. It’s as bad as Joey’s issue with Honor. I totally get why you want to tell her, but you understand that this could hurt so many people, right? Especially since we don’t know the entire truth yet.”
“I know; it’s just … hard.” He takes my hand and leads me through the stacks toward the stairs to the study rooms. “Wil is cursed with Honor?”
“Supposedly,” I mumble, walking down the stairs.
“Which means he knows something he’s struggling to keep secret?” he concludes uncertainly.
“Something like that,” I answer quietly.
“Something to do with you that I don’t know yet?” Grant turns toward me when we reach the bottom of the stairs.
“Not yet,” I answer, biting my bottom lip. “But you will.”
I’ve been thinking about when and how to tell Grant the rest of my truths, considering how freeing it felt to let him in on
the family-tree debacle. But I also fear that releasing the bind on my secrets will then secure them to him. The last thing I want is to watch him struggle with their weight, the way I have since the night everything happened.
He nods thoughtfully. “I’ll listen whenever you want to tell me.” Grant holds out his hand to escort me to the open door at the end of the hall.
When we enter, Brendan is seated with his feet propped up on the table and his hands folded on his lap. “We need to talk, Princess.” He eyes Grant. “And he can’t stay.”
“Screw you, Brendan,” I respond, dropping my bag on the table. “This room is for my study session with Grant. Get out.”
“You sure as shit don’t need a tutor,” Brendan pushes back. “This is important, Lana. Besides, you promised.”
I clench my teeth to keep from screaming, but I can’t hold back the frustrated growl that rumbles in the back of my throat.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Grant asks Brendan, nodding toward me and how undeniably vexed I am. “Doesn’t seem like Lana wants anything to do with you right now.”
“I don’t care,” Brendan quips. “She owes me. So I’m collecting.”
“Why does she owe you?”
“Because I promised,” I huff. “And he knows I won’t back out on a promise.”
“Hey, cuz! I was thinking we should …” Lance trails off when he enters the small space and sees I’m not alone. “Sorry. I saw your name on the list reserving this room. I didn’t realize it was to …” He looks from Grant propped against the wall with his arms crossed to Brendan leaning back in the chair. “What are you doing exactly?”
“You think Lana’s your cousin?” Grant asks Lance with a note of curiosity. “Do you know for sure?”
Our attention simultaneously draws to Brendan.
Brendan inspects Lance and then Grant before shooting me a scathing look. “They know?”
“Yes.”
“What else do they know?” he demands, slamming the legs of the chair on the floor.
“Whatever I decide to tell them!” I shout back with venom.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Lana?” he yells, standing up and shaking his curled hands like he wants to strangle me.
Grant takes a step forward at the same time I do. Lance remains where he is, looking smug now that he’s finally in on a secret. Although he’s done a really shitty job at hiding it.
“Don’t start,” I threaten. “This is my life too. So go ahead and tell us what you found out about the paternity tests.”
Brendan shoves the chair, and it ricochets loudly off the table. He inhales deeply through his nose and barely collects himself. “I don’t know. It’s another reason I wanted to talk to you.” He glowers at Grant and Lance before continuing, “The lab where the tests were conducted was bought out and closed down two years ago. I’m trying to find out who purchased it because they may still have the results. But it’s some shell company … which is weird. I’m still looking into it. But we need to talk.”
Lance pulls out a chair and sits. “Yeah. Let’s talk.”
“Uh, not you. This is between me and Lana.”
“Not if it has to do with my family,” Lance argues, trying to sound intimidating but sadly failing.
Brendan harrumphs indignantly. “Your family has done nothing but cover up this entire mess for the past seventeen years. There’s no way in hell I’m talking about it with you or any of your brothers.”
“Guess you won’t be talking then because I’m not leaving.” Lance crosses his arms defiantly, like he’s won this argument. Poor guy.
“Fine. I’ll go,” I announce and spin around to find Ashton standing in the doorway.
“What’s going on?”
We stare at her wordlessly.
Her attention fixates on Brendan. “Brendan, what do you have to talk to Lana about?”
Brendan avoids her scrutiny, eyes fixed firmly on me. I swallow, not wanting to be in the middle of what is or isn’t happening between them. No one offers an explanation. It’s like we’ve all stepped on landmines and are afraid to move.
“Lana?” she pleads.
I can only look back mournfully. She shakes her head in disbelief.
“I get it. You can’t say anything because it’s a secret. So many fucking secrets!” Her voice grows louder as she talks. “If we can’t trust each other, then what the fuck?” She focuses on Brendan again. Her words said through gritted teeth. “Brendan. This isn’t protecting me.”
He still refuses to look at her.
Her eyes become glassy, and her voice breaks. “You promised.”
Brendan visibly flinches but otherwise remains unmoved.
Ashton spins and rushes away.
I spit out in disgust. “You don’t love her.”
I never found love. Never. Even when I lied to myself and believed I had.
I race after Ashton as she weaves through the Court. I’m panting and can’t keep up. But this time, I know where she’s going.
By the time I arrive at Screaming Point, she’s releasing her heartache so loudly, I think she may crack the sky. I stand back, while she expels every breath until her legs give out and she falls to her knees, sobbing.
“I want to hate him,” she bellows, wrapping her arms around her waist like she’s trying to hold herself together. “I want to hate him so much.”
I slowly approach and kneel next to her, carefully touching my hand to her back like I might break her. She leans into me, and cries escape so violently that they pierce my heart. I hold her the best I can.
I don’t tell her it’ll be okay. I don’t diminish her pain. Her hurt. Her anger. I allow her to feel every single emotion that pours out through her tears. That shakes with her racking sobs. She owns her feelings, and I won’t be the one to pacify them away. They belong to her.
I can sense the moment she eases back into herself and returns to being present with me. I allow her to pull away but take hold of her hand to let her know I’m still here with her. That I’m not going anywhere for as long as she needs me.
Ashton breathes in deep and releases the last of it, allowing it to be carried away on the wind that gently brushes past us, like it knows it’s holding something sacred.
I finally see her. My friend. Free of the facade she’s been wearing all week. Maybe her entire life. The person she’s been suppressing with her vape or shots of tequila.
The truth is, she is broken. But strong. Angry. Yet resolute. She has a story, and from the vulnerability shimmering in her blue eyes, I know she’s ready to tell it.
“He’s always been there when I’ve needed him. He promised to protect me. That’s why he’s so angry about what happened at the barn—it reminds him of the time he couldn’t. The time someone hurt me and he was too late to stop him.”
My throat tightens. I knew in my gut what last time meant. I just wished it weren’t true.
Ashton’s voice is quiet, but I hear every word.
“We were at a club for my friend’s sixteenth. Her parents reserved the VIP section for her. It’s the only way they’d let us in, to keep us separated, away from the bars. But we still snuck in drinks. Parker was there. He’s friends with her older brother. And he brought Brendan with him. We talked. And I liked him instantly.”
I press my lips together, resolving not to make a face.
She notices and laughs weakly. “I know; you don’t get it, but I … see him. And he accepts me.”
She pauses to take a breath, preparing herself. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to say it. That I know. But I also want to allow her to be heard. So she knows that her story is safe with me. Without fear of judgment. Or shame.
“This other guy was there. I don’t know if he was invited or someone snuck him in. But he made it into the VIP area with us and would feed us drinks from the bar. He kept trying to talk to me, but I …” She shivers. “The rest of my friends thought he was so cute and charming. I knew he wasn’t right
. I could feel it.”
Her deep blue eyes connect with mine, a tear rolling down her cheek. “He put something in my drink. I knew something was off when I could barely stand. I went to the bathroom to throw up. And … he followed me.”
I close my eyes, trapping the tears. I squeeze her hand.
“I don’t remember,” she chokes. “I don’t remember, Lana. Do you know how awful that is? To not remember while wishing to forget?”
I shake my head, unable to find words. Because there aren’t words to erase this.
“I have flashes, like … I’m outside my body. And sometimes, I try to convince myself it didn’t happen.” She swipes under her nose. “But I see her … her cheek pressed against the tile. I hear her … crying, begging and saying no over and over again. And I hear him … breathing. Grunting.” She struggles with the words. “Saying in her ear … ‘You wanted this.’ ”
I cover my mouth to contain the gasp. No, no, no, no, no.
In a distant daze, Ashton fixates on the water. “Brendan found me. Had one of my friends stay with me in the bathroom while he called the ambulance. He brought Niall to the hospital with him. I’m not sure why exactly. But for some reason, he knew he could help.”
I’m listening, but I’m not. I hear what she’s saying, but I’m trapped in a place when those same words were said in my ear. A time before this happened to her. The moment I could have stopped him from ever hurting someone else, but … I remained silent. I let him go. I gave him permission to do it again.
“He’s dead. Morgan Wolfe. Was stabbed in an alley that night. They say it was a mugging. But … I call it retribution. I just wish I’d been the one to do it.”
I close my eyes, tears running like rivulets down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry. Ashton, I’m so, so sorry.”
She faces me with a small, soothing smile. “Oh, Lana. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
But I did.
She pulls me into a hug, and I silently beg for her forgiveness as I cry within her embrace. When I pull back, I can’t meet her eyes. Instead, I gaze out at the lake and feel the wind against my cheeks, reminding me of all the heartache it has carried away with our screams.
The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4: Now We Know/What They Knew Page 6