by Kate Brian
“Privilege my ass. Do you know what they’re showing down there right now?” Jasper said, walking around to join her. “Avatar.”
Ariana snorted a laugh.
He walked over to the projector and hit a button, bringing the machine to life. “I, however, have a real movie on tap.”
Suddenly the screen flickered to life, and Ariana saw the familiar opening scene of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Audrey Hepburn traipsed along the New York streets in her black dress and tiara, smiling her bright Hepburn smile. Ariana sighed contentedly. Audrey Hepburn was her favorite actress of all time, and this was the greatest of all her films.
“Shall we?” he said, gesturing at the ground.
“We shall,” Ariana replied giddily.
They sat next to each other, and Jasper reached around for the bottle of champagne he’d stashed nearby. He popped the top, and Ariana squealed as foam sprayed out, soaking one of the blankets near their feet.
“Sorry about that,” Jasper said, looking not at all sorry.
“I’ll bet,” Ariana replied, gently wiping her toes with her fingertips.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jasper said, holding the bottle between them. “You should come to my soccer game on Friday.”
Ariana pulled a baffled face. “And why would I want to do that?”
Jasper lifted a shoulder. “Because I am excellent at soccer. If you saw me play you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”
“You’d be surprised at my capacity for self-control,” Ariana replied smoothly, even though just being this close to him was making her nerves sizzle and her mouth water.
Jasper didn’t respond. He simply smirked, as if he knew she was exaggerating. “Also, I think you should come home with me for Thanksgiving next week.”
Ariana blinked, unable to contain her surprise. Thanksgiving was big. Thanksgiving was the kind of holiday one only attended if things were serious. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean . . . with your grandmother gone and everything . . . it might be a little depressing to go home,” Jasper said. “And we have a huge party. My family comes from all over, and we cook all weekend and eat and drink and dance. You’d love it.”
“Nothing depressing about that,” Ariana replied with a smile.
She hadn’t even thought about where she might go when the school closed down for Thanksgiving break. But now she realized it might be nice to go down south. Almost like going to her real home. And she’d never gotten the chance to meet Jasper’s parents over the weekend.
“Okay,” she said, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. “I’ll think about it.” She glanced down at the open champagne bottle. “Are we going to be drinking that anytime soon?”
Jasper smiled. He brought the bottle to his lips, taking a long drink. Then he offered it to her.
“What? No glasses?” Ariana asked.
“Afraid you’re going to catch my cooties?” Jasper asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Oh, I think we’re well beyond that,” Ariana said.
Normally not one for drinking and the surrender of control that inevitably occurred, Ariana decided this was a special occasion. She took the bottle from him and allowed herself one good sip. When she lowered it again, she looked at Jasper, holding his gaze, then licked the tingling liquid from her lips.
Jasper smiled slowly. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you, Ana Covington?”
“Always,” Ariana replied.
And then she leaned forward and kissed him. And as Jasper turned toward her, as he slipped one hand around her neck and the other inside her coat and over her flat stomach, something flipped inside Ariana, and she just let herself go. She stopped thinking. Stopped planning. Stopped wondering what it would all mean. Stopped wondering how she would break up with Palmer. For once she just let herself feel.
She felt his lips pressing firmly against hers. Felt the cold touch of his hand as it slid beneath her shirt and lay against her warm skin. Felt her body arching toward his, wanting to know every single inch of him. When his lips left hers and trailed over her cheek, down her neck and onto her shoulder, she felt as if she might explode with happiness.
Jasper knew what he was doing. It was as if he knew exactly where she wanted to be kissed. Exactly how she wanted to be kissed.
“I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you,” Jasper whispered in her ear, sending delicious shivers down her spine.
“When did you first see me?” Ariana breathed, her eyes closed, her leg wrapping around his waist.
“The first day here. Out on the quad when we got our colors. You were with your friends, and you looked so damned gorgeous,” he said, gasping for air as he kissed her. “Every second since then I’ve been dreaming about this.”
Ariana brought her mouth down on his and kissed him like she’d never kissed anyone before.
Suddenly Jasper pulled back. One hand cupped her face and the other was on her thigh. His lips were pink and raw, and his breath was quick, but he seemed suddenly, perfectly serious. He looked into Ariana’s eyes, his own so clear they were almost startling.
“I love you,” he said firmly.
Ariana blinked. There was no hemming and hawing. No “I think I’m falling for you.” No “I can totally imagine myself loving you.” None of those vague, hedgy things boys usually said to give themselves a safety net. This was not a statement he was going to back away from anytime soon. But that was Jasper. He knew who he was. He knew who he wanted. And the person he wanted was Ariana.
No. The person he wants is Briana Leigh Covington.
And suddenly tears sprung to Ariana’s eyes. She pressed her hands into the blanket at her sides and scooted herself away from him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You can’t say that,” she told him. “You don’t even know me. Not really.”
Without hesitation, Jasper closed the gap between them. He took both her hands in his and sat cross-legged, looking at her openly. “I can say that. Because even though I might not know every little thing about you, I know there’s nothing you could ever do, nothing you could ever say, that would make me not love you.”
Ariana’s jaw dropped slightly. He couldn’t have said anything more perfect if he’d had a thousand screenwriters working for him. How did he know? How was he always able to do and say exactly what she needed him to do and say at any given moment? Suddenly Ariana was back at that restaurant table with Palmer. Hearing him say that he could never be friends with anyone who’d let themselves get involved in a scandal. If Palmer knew who she really was, he’d drop her in a second. But Jasper . . . Jasper was going to love her no matter what. A tear spilled out over her cheek, and Jasper reached up, touching it away with the pad of his thumb.
Ariana opened her mouth to speak. “I—”
The sound of squealing car tires split the air, followed by a shout of surprise and a scream. Ariana and Jasper looked at one another, startled, then jumped up and ran to the side of the roof. A black Cadillac Escalade whipped around the turn in the parking lot below and into a spot where it slammed on its brakes, sending smoke and the scent of burning rubber into the air.
“Isn’t that Royce’s car?” Jasper said.
Oh crap.
Conrad hurled himself out of the front seat, slamming the door so hard it was a miracle the thing didn’t fall off its hinges.
“I have to go,” Ariana said without a second thought.
“Wait. Why?” Jasper asked.
But Ariana was already gone, sprinting down the stairs toward the first floor of Privilege House as fast as her quaking legs could carry her.
“Connie!” Ariana said, gasping for breath as he slammed the front door of the dorm. She’d just made it to the lobby as he stormed inside—and right past her on his way to the elevators. “Conrad!”
Connie completely ignored her and stepped into the waiting elevator. She heard him curse under his breath as he drove his fists into the back wall with a bang. Ariana’s
heart was in her throat. What had happened? Where was Lexa? What had she done?
Dear God, what had she said ?
Blindly, Ariana shoved open the door and ran for the parking lot—ran for Conrad’s car. From three feet away she saw Lexa doubled over in the front seat, bawling her eyes out, her long dark hair half covering her blotchy, tear-stained face. Ariana sprinted over and tried the door. It wouldn’t budge.
“Lexa!” Ariana shouted.
The girl continued to cry, rocking forward and back, forward and back. Ariana’s pulse raced so fast she thought she was going to black out. Instead, she gripped the door handle with everything she had in her and forced herself to focus.
“Lexa!” she shouted, slamming both palms flat against the thick window glass. “Lexa! Open the door! Lexa, honey you’ve gotta unlock the door!” She began to beat the pane with the heels of her hands, making so much noise she couldn’t possibly be ignored.
Lexa looked up then, her hair sticking to the snot under her nose. Her eyelashes were thick with tears, and her eyes were shot through with red lines.
“I can’t get it out, Ana,” she said, her words muffled by the thick glass. “I can’t get it out.”
Slowly, Ariana’s gaze fell to Lexa’s hands. She was wringing them together as if she was trying to wash them.
”I can’t get it out, Ana. I can’t get it out.”
Ariana flashed back to tenth-grade English and Macbeth. Lexa was channeling Lady Macbeth in her breakdown scene. Ariana remembered Leanne Shore reading the soliloquy in class like it was yesterday. “‘Out, damn’d spot. Out, I say!’”
She’s crazy. She’s really and truly crazy, Ariana thought, her heart sinking like a stone. She had a sudden vivid memory of Crazy Cathy back at the Brenda T. One afternoon the inmates had been enjoying their outdoor time when suddenly Cathy had started screaming. She’d jumped up from her table and fallen to the grass, writhing and shouting that there were ants on her skin. That she was covered in them. That they were crawling up her nose and into her ears and over her brain. She’d had to be locked down in solitary for over a week, where she’d screamed herself so hoarse her voice had never been the same.
Lexa had that same look in her eye that Cathy had that day. Like she wasn’t really there. Not there at all. Ariana had counted on the fact that Conrad’s presence would keep her calm, but if she could have a breakdown like this even when she was alone with him, then Ariana was in serious trouble. Because she couldn’t keep watch over Lexa 24-7 for the rest of her life. It simply could not be done.
Don’t think about that. Not yet. Right now all you have to do is bring her back. And you can bring her back, Ariana told herself. You have to bring her back.
“Lexa, please,” Ariana said calmly. “Just hit the button with the little open lock on it, right there. Right there on the door. Hit it so I can open the door and get you out of there.”
Lexa sniffled and looked down. “I can’t get it out.”
Ariana swallowed hard. Lexa didn’t even understand her.
And then, suddenly, a click. Ariana’s head popped up. She reached for the door handle and tried it again. The door swung open. Lexa looked at her, her back bent, her shoulders curled.
“I can’t get it out,” she said.
“I know,” Ariana said soothingly, reaching for her. “I know, Lex. I’m gonna help you.”
Carefully, she tugged Lexa out of the huge SUV. The moment Lexa’s high heels met the ground, her ankles went out, and she almost hit the asphalt. Cursing under her breath, Ariana braced her arm under Lexa’s and held her up. She was heavier than she looked. Ariana looked up at the glowing windows of Privilege House, wondering where the hell Conrad had gone—why he hadn’t come back out to check on Lexa. Did he even realize she was still out here?
“Come on. Let’s get you inside,” Ariana said patiently.
“I can’t get it out, Ana,” Lexa said, holding her shaking hands out flat as she loped along. Her fingers were all dry and cracked from so much washing, and her palms were red and raw. But there was nothing staining her hands. Nothing to be gotten out. “I can’t. I just can’t get it out. No matter what I do, I can’t get it out.”
“I understand,” Ariana assured her, holding Lexa close to her side. “I understand.”
Lexa caught a few curious and appalled looks from a group of sophomore girls as Ariana helped her to the elevator. It was all Ariana could do to keep from lashing out at them. This could just as easily have been them. No one around here knew how close they all teetered to the abyss. They all thought they were so secure, so wealthy, so privileged that nothing could ever touch them.
But they didn’t know. They had no idea. No one was safe. Bad things could happen to anyone at any time.
“I can’t get it out, Ana. I just can’t get it out,” Lexa whimpered as the elevator whisked them to the top floor.
“I know, Lexa,” Ariana replied, stroking her hair. “I understand.”
Tiptoeing as best she could so as not to arouse the attention of their other friends, who would undoubtedly pepper her with questions, Ariana escorted Lexa to her room. She helped her lie down on her bed and removed her shoes, placing them carefully on the floor. Then she fished out her almost full bottle of Valium and stood next to the bed.
“I can’t get it out, Ana. I can’t get it out.”
Ariana stared at the dozens of tiny pills inside the bottle. It would be so easy. Lexa was completely out of it. All she had to do was feed her the pills. Surely an entire bottle of Valium could take care of one tiny person like Lexa. She would simply swallow them, go to sleep, and never wake up. It would be like putting a dog out of its misery. Look at the girl. She was a disgusting, sad, sorry mess. She wasn’t in her right mind. Probably never would be again. And when they found her in the morning, Ariana could just say that Lexa must have taken the pills herself while Ariana slept. It would be so . . . very . . . easy.
Slowly, Ariana uncapped the bottle. She tilted it over her palm and shook out two of the small, white pills.
“Here. Take these,” she told Lexa, holding out her palm.
Lexa looked at the pills, focusing for the first time all night. “They’ll help me sleep,” she said robotically.
“Yes. They’ll help you sleep,” Ariana replied.
Obediently, Lexa swallowed the pills dry, then curled up on her side on Ariana’s bed, facing the wall. Ariana placed the cap back on the bottle and shoved it as far back in her drawer as it would go. Then she closed the drawer slowly and moved her chair over to block it from opening. To remind her that it was not to be touched.
“I can’t get it out, Ana. No matter what I do. I can’t get it out.”
Ariana lifted the chenille blanket from the foot of her bed. She laid it over Lexa, then crawled into bed behind her, looping her arm around Lexa’s waist.
“I can’t get it out Ana. I can’t get it out.”
“I know, Lexa. I understand. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of you.”
And Ariana held Lexa close, until the Valium finally did its job and she drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Conrad was sitting at one of the indoor tables at the Privilege House café, sipping a coffee and staring down at a novel that he had open across one thigh. Ariana watched him for a couple of minutes. Every once in a while he shook his head, as if irritated, and refocused on the book, gritting his teeth. Ariana knew exactly what he was doing—reading the same line over and over again because he couldn’t concentrate. Because he was thinking about Lexa.
You shouldn’t have bailed on her, she thought, clenching her jaw. If you were going to feel so guilty about it, you shouldn’t have deserted her, locked in your car.
Stealing herself, Ariana walked through the lobby and over to his table. She had to keep reminding herself that Conrad was not a villain in all of this. He didn’t know how to handle the new Lexa any better than anyone else. All he needed was a little help.
A little guidance. Maybe, in fact, a bit of guilt. And Ariana was going to be the one to help him feel it.
“Hey,” she said, pausing behind the wire-backed chair across from his. “How’s it going?”
Conrad’s eyes flicked over her face. “It’s going.” He returned his attention to the page.
“Mind if I sit?” Ariana asked. She didn’t wait for a reply. “So much for being a stand-up guy,” she said.
Conrad sighed and closed his book, dog-earring his page as he laid it flat on the table.
“I guess you talked to Lexa,” he said derisively. “Oh wait, you couldn’t have, because she’s frickin’ out of her skull.”
“Conrad,” Ariana said, gripping the marble tabletop with both hands as she glanced around at the other occupied tables. “Please.”
“Why keep my voice down? Everyone knows it, Ana,” Conrad said, lowering his voice nonetheless as he leaned forward. “The girl is in need of some serious drugs.”
Which she’s already getting, Ariana thought.
“No, she’s not. She’s just going through a tough time,” Ariana said.
Conrad sighed. He leaned back heavily in his chair and shook his head, as if Ariana was saying exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Ariana’s blood started to boil with impatience. Maybe he was the villain.
“What, exactly, happened last night?” she asked.
“We went out to this restaurant that I knew would serve us wine. You know, because of all that stuff the other night about her becoming a red wine girl and all that?” he said. Ariana nodded and he leaned forward again, resting his forearms against the edge of the table like a well-mannered gentleman. “So I picked out a great bottle, and we ordered our food, and everything was fine. But ten minutes into the meal I knocked over her wine glass by mistake, and she went completely off the reservation.”
Ariana swallowed hard. Spilled wine. Like spilled blood. That’s what had done it. It wasn’t much of a leap to make when one knew the whole story.
“She starts wringing her hands together and talking about how it’s never gonna come out,” Conrad said, speaking more rapidly as the story tumbled forth. “So I’m telling her it’s just a tablecloth and who cares and they’ll get us a new one, but that just seems to rile her up until she’s screaming. ‘I can’t get it out! I can’t get it out!’ It was a total scene. We got thrown out of the damn place.”