“You want me to lie to her, so you don’t feel guilty?”
“I want you to go with her because I don’t give a shit about this dance, and she does. And because … you’re a good guy.”
The crease of Grant’s frown deepens. “But … I don’t want to.”
“Why? It’s not that big a deal.” My indifferent rebuttal disturbs him even more.
It’s Grant’s turn to pace. He looks like he’s trying to find the right words while fighting for composure. Probably what I look like after speaking with Brendan. I watch him silently. Grant is the most contained, easy-mannered person I’ve ever met … until he’s passionate about something. But I never expected it to be about a dance.
He stops before me and takes a breath before speaking, “Tell me this. What is it with girls thinking they decide who gets the guy?”
I’m confused. It’s apparently all over my face, so he tries again.
“Like your promise to never be with a guy who’s been with any of your friends. At some point, you and your friend were both interested in him. You backed down to let her pursue him. You decided from the very beginning which of you he was going to like. Not even giving him a chance to get to know you.
“But what about the guy? Doesn’t he get a say?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Probably because I have no words to explain this. I’ve never even thought about his feelings before. I’ve always assumed guys don’t care and are happy with whichever girl wants them as long as she’s hot. I guess that’s pretty shallow of me now that I’m thinking about it. I’ve just never been proven wrong before.
“I’m not a commodity you get to pass off to make your friends feel better. I’m not interested in any of your friends. Never will be. I want to be with you. Only you, Lana. You’re more important to me than every other girl. So, no, I’m not going to change my mind and go to the stupid dance with Sophia. It’s you or no one.”
I stare at him, stunned. He waits patiently for everything he said to settle in. The passion and conviction behind every word. The hurt that I could so easily dismiss his desires in place of someone else’s. That I didn’t even consider his feelings. What he wanted.
“I’m sorry.”
The words are soft but strengthened with truth. They’re the only words that come out because they’re the ones that matter right now.
Our eyes lock. He nods once in acceptance.
My lips curl into a flirtatious smile. “Guess you’ll just have to wait for my grand proposal then.”
A mischievous glint lights up his eyes. “I will try to be patient.”
“Can I sit?” I tentatively approach Sophia when I locate her seated at a table outside the dining hall, studying.
Despite the fact that there are maybe fifty people on campus for the summer session, she’s done an expert job of avoiding me the past few days. Maybe she and Brendan share more skills than coding.
Sophia glances up quickly before averting her attention back to her book. “I guess.”
I slide my legs over the bench, sitting across from her. “I heard about your Ball-vitation.”
This gets her attention. She squints at me like I’m crazy.
“My what?”
I grin, happy it worked.
“Your invitation to the ball. Ball-vitation. Ashton came up with it. Thought you’d think it was cute.” I shrug awkwardly. “Or not. I thought it was weird too.”
Sophia giggles despite herself. “That definitely sounds like an Ashton word.” Then she deflates again. “Grant told you?” She sets her pen down and sighs. “I didn’t know you were a couple.” I resist the urge to flinch. “If I had, I never would’ve asked him.”
“Well … if I screw this up, which is highly likely, you can totally try again.” I scrunch my nose. “Sooo can we … be friends?”
“You want to be friends with me?” She laughs incredulously.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I scoff. “I totally get if you don’t want to be my friend. I am a little angry.”
“Well … I’m a little crazy. So maybe it’ll work.” Her eyes are glassy, probably from not blinking, as she flashes a wide, indulgent grin.
I laugh loudly. “Oh, hell yes it will.”
My insides feel all warm and gooey when I walk away, like I’m a human Cinnabon. It’s a strange but comforting sensation. And despite agreeing to be friends, I couldn’t bring myself to ask her to access Brendan’s computer files. I really wanted to, but friendship shouldn’t come with strings attached, especially when they’re illegal favors.
Upon approaching the dorm, I notice something I haven’t seen in a long time—a red ribbon tied to the rose trellis. Someone left a note in our hiding spot in the birch forest.
I turn around, curious who hid it. Hoping it’s not Brendan about to ruin my day.
But Brendan does ruin my day when I come upon him pinning Ashton to a tree, her leg wrapped around his waist and his face buried in her neck. I cover my mouth to conceal my gasp of abhorrence and spin around to flee. That was never on my list of things to see in this lifetime. And now, I will never unsee it.
Apparently, Sophia and I aren’t the only ones who’ve made up.
He’d never forgive you for what you did. For the hurt you caused. For the future you stole.
I’m tucking a change of clothes into my tote bag when my phone buzzes with the message, “Mr. Harrison is here for you. Please come to the administration building immediately.”
“So demanding,” I grumble indignantly, dropping the phone into my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.
A few steps into the main foyer, I hear, “Lana!”
My mother rushes across the open space with her arms wide, prepared to embrace me. I smile and hug her back just as fiercely when she overtakes me.
“Oh, honey, I’ve missed you so much.” She steps back to take me in. “You look so beautiful. I mean, you always have, but … you’re almost … glowing.” Then she leans in and whispers, “I can’t wait to me him.”
I shift uncomfortably, not ready to bond with my mother over my new … Grant. I not-so-subtly redirect the conversation. “You look good too, Mom.”
She’s always had this angelic, fairy essence about her with her big blue eyes and waist-length fair hair. But it’s nice to see her without the shadows under her eyes, replaced by a twinkle that makes her porcelain skin look almost luminescent.
She takes my hand and pulls me close to her side. “Niall and Olivia have this fantastic day planned for us. Wait ’til you see.”
Niall is standing by the door. “Hi, Lana. It’s nice to see you again. Hope the past couple weeks have been … uneventful.”
I produce a cheeky grin. “You weren’t called, so let’s just leave it at that.”
He presses his lips together and nods tersely. “Shall we?” He opens the door for us.
Waiting in the passenger side of a silver Land Rover is, who I can only presume to be, Olivia Harrison. She steps out of the car as soon as we come into view.
“Lana, this is Olivia,” my mother gushes, like she’s a celebrity or something. “Olivia, this is her. Our Lana.”
I shoot my mother a questioning glance out of the corner of my eye before redirecting my attention to Olivia.
“Lana, you have no idea how happy I am to meet you.”
And I don’t. Their doting attention feels overwhelming … and really strange.
“I’ve heard you’ve been helping Mom out. I’m sure she’s happy to have someone around.”
“I’m honored she’s allowed me back into her life. I’ve missed her dearly. Both of you. Although I know you don’t remember me.”
Before I can react, Niall interrupts, gently setting a hand on Olivia’s back, “Why don’t we get going?”
“Of course,” Olivia answers brightly. “You brought your suit, right, Lana?”
“I did,” I say, opening the back door as my mother rounds to the other side of the car.
“W
e thought we’d take the boat out and spend the afternoon on the lake,” Niall explains as we drive through Blackwood’s monstrous iron gates.
My mother tilts her head to take them in. “This school reminds me of something out of a story. Like those fairytales your grandmother would read to you.”
Oh, she has no idea.
“How do you like Blackwood?” Olivia inquires from the front seat.
“It’s been … educational,” I reply with a forced smile.
Olivia gives me a curious smile over her shoulder. An unasked question flits in her eyes before she faces front again.
While we drive, I take a moment to inspect Mrs. Harrison with her delicate features, sleekly styled dark blond hair and vibrant smile. I try to make out the color of her eyes, but she slides sunglasses into place, making it impossible. Lance looks more like her than Niall, who is all Parker and Joey. At least, I hope Joey.
Niall sets a hand affectionately on top of Olivia’s. She looks over at him adoringly. The same expression she wore in the picture when she was pregnant with Joey on Nantucket. There’s no way she cheated on Niall. If she did, I will give up on love forever. Seriously.
“You never told me this boy’s name,” my mother interjects like she’s continuing a conversation we’ve been having this entire time.
“What boy?” Niall asks sternly at the same time Olivia asks it with girlish fascination, much like my mother’s.
So much for avoiding the subject of my personal life. “Uh … Grant.”
“What about him?” Niall asks suspiciously before either woman can say a word.
“Niall,” Olivia scolds. “Don’t give her the what-have-you-done-now tone before we even hear what she has to say.”
I laugh. Because that’s exactly what he sounded like.
“Grant’s joining us for dinner,” my mother announces. “This is the first boyfriend of Lana’s I’ve ever met.”
I make a face like I just bit into a lemon. “He’s not … I mean … I’ve never …” I sigh, giving up.
“You invited him?” Niall asks, glancing at me quickly. “Do the boys know?”
I swallow. “Uh, I don’t know.”
“Oh,” Olivia says, her mouth rounding as if she just remembered something scandalous. “You and Joey are friends, right? It still amazes me you found each other after all these years. Isn’t it funny? You used to take bubble baths together.”
I slink down against the leather, wishing it would suck me in and transport me somewhere else like the mirror did for Alice.
Niall clears his throat uncomfortably.
“Your Joey?” My mother’s eyes flash from shock to elation. “Omigod, why didn’t I know this? You were the best of friends when you were little. You once pushed a boy’s face in the sand for taking Joey’s car from him at the playground.”
“And that time he tried to get you to kiss a frog he caught, thinking it would grant you wishes?” Olivia adds.
They both burst into laughter.
I close my eyes and silently chant, This is not happening. This is not happening.
Olivia’s laughter draws me back to the car. “And then that time …” She must register my mortification because she stops herself. “So sorry, Lana. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just think it’s sweet that you two have found your way back to each other.”
“It’s so cute,” my mother gushes. “I’ve always known you would. You had this connection ever since you were babies. Remember, Olivia, how they always used to defend each other so fiercely? It was so adorable, like they were siblings.” She sighs, lost to a time I can’t remember.
From that point until we finally arrive at the lake house, I zone out everything they titter on about and stare out the window. When I glance at Niall, his placid expression makes me think he’s doing the same thing. But he always kinda looks like that.
We spend the next few hours cruising around the lake, swimming off secluded inlets and sunbathing—or in Niall’s case, reading. I make a habit of diving under the water when any mortifying mom-conversations surface. You’d think they were the teenagers with the amount of giggling they were doing. I talked Niall into letting me drive the boat for a little while, although he hovered next to me, prepared to take over the moment the boat threatened to capsize.
When we return to the lake house, I have a frizz of loose strands floating around my head, like I was electrified, despite trying to keep it contained in a topknot. My mother has a flush of color on her cheeks I’ve never seen before and a smile that won’t quit.
I nod appreciatively at Niall when he helps me off the boat. And I can tell he understands the weight of the gesture when he nods back. Olivia links arms with my mother, and they chatter incessantly all the way to the house.
“They’re close, huh?” I note, not taking my eyes off them while Niall and I trail behind.
“Olivia’s missed her. I’m glad they’re spending this time together.” His usually flat tone has a hint of sentiment to it that I pretend not to notice.
“What happened?” I’m trying to be subtle and practically hold my breath, awaiting his answer.
“It’s complicated,” is his unhelpful and extremely frustrating response. I sigh audibly. Picking up on my agitation, he adds, “She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”
I leave it at that and enter the bottom level of the house by the hot tub where Olivia stored our change of clothes before we took off on the boat. My mother is staying on this level, in a bedroom with its own mini patio. It’s quaint and private within this corner of the house. I choose to shower and dress in one of the three changing rooms that line the hallway.
When I emerge, braiding my wet hair because I can’t be bothered to blow it out, I overhear the whir of a hair dryer in my mother’s room and decide to head upstairs. I find three people in the kitchen, one wearing a white chef’s jacket and the others in black pants and white dress shirts.
“Would you care for something to drink?” one of the servers asks, motioning toward the small bar they set up on the corner of the island.
“Uh, no, I’m okay. Thanks.”
The dinner’s catered? The concept is so outside my brain that I just stare at them for a second, watching as they continue to prep the meal and stack items to set the table. Which is … huge.
On the upper deck is an expansive distressed grey wooden table that looks as long as the bar at Stella’s. Who exactly is coming for dinner?
“Oh shit,” I breathe.
Fear of the coming nightmare dinner creeps in when I spot Parker standing on the dock next to Brendan, looking out at the lake. Brendan glances back toward the house like he can detect me.
I turn around, not ready to face the two of them together. It was only recently I discovered they’re business partners, and I’ve yet to come to terms with it. Definitely not prepared to witness their conspiring in person.
But I have no idea where to go. So I retreat to the guest bedroom I stayed in the night of my birthday and close the door with my back pressed against it, willing my pulse to chill the fuck out.
I step to the window and watch the two guys talk like they’ve known each other their entire lives. Parker leans back and bellows in laughter at something Brendan said.
Then Joey appears on the upper deck—with Lincoln. They join the other two, greeting them with a casual nod.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I question out loud, not expecting to see anyone from Sherling here.
Did they invite Tori and Nina too? The possibility lightens my mood. Having my girls here would turn this night around—or at least provide some much-needed support.
I start toward the door, ready to search for them, when I notice a picture on the dresser. An oddly familiar picture, which is why it catches my eye. It’s a group photo, captured in black and white, of people having a picnic on a lawn in front of a large house. But unlike the chaotic one Brendan still has in his possession, everyone is in place, posing for the camera.
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Niall has a toddler-aged Parker on his lap with a very pregnant Olivia beside him. My mother is seated next to Brendan’s mother, and Kaden’s sitting behind them. I squint to make out a small boy wearing glasses propped on his lap, ducking away like he’s hiding from the camera. He wasn’t in the original photo, but neither was Kaden. The woman in the dark dress whose face I couldn’t see before is now looking at the camera with a blank expression, similar to the old pictures when people couldn’t move because it took forever to take the photo. And next to her is the opposite. The man with the light-colored hair is smiling with such charisma, you’d think he was campaigning for office.
I don’t know how I skated over them at first glance, but when I look at the photo more closely, I find Lily’s mother—a stunning blonde, from whom Lily has inherited most of her traits—and a dark-haired man with the most sincere smile, who also was absent from the original picture.
I stare at him. “What the …”
I set the frame down on the dresser so hard, I may have cracked the glass. Backing away, I turn to find the same stunning blonde standing within the doorframe. She doesn’t look like she’s aged much, probably attributed to doctors in sterile rooms with needles and scalpels, paid to prolong her youth.
Her golden-blond hair is styled in a long, wavy sheet, like one of the classic Hollywood starlets. Her big bluish-green eyes look drowsy beneath dramatically oversize lashes. Her plump red lips are bright and shiny. She’s wearing a flowery cocktail dress that accentuates every curve before it trails off in a train in the back. In contrast, the front is hemmed short, revealing tan, shapely legs. She takes a sip from a martini glass, her gaze locked on the dark titanium band with black diamonds on my thumb.
She takes a few steps into the room, still consumed by the ring. “That’s an interesting ring you have there.”
My automatic instinct is to hide it behind my back, as if to protect it. But what’s the point? It’s not really mine. So I lift my hand to admire it instead. “I found it on my floor.”
The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4: Now We Know/What They Knew Page 12