by E. M. Snow
I give her my back, intent on putting as much distance between the two of us as possible, when her next words hit me like a bullwhip.
“You know when Saint’s obsession with you wears off, you’ll go back to being a nobody, right?”
Why couldn’t she have just let me walk away?
I glance back at her and make a face. “Guess what, Laurel? I’m just as much a nobody today as I was the first day I arrived at this school. You’re the somebody he got bored with and dumped.”
Her shriek of indignation follows me as I walk away from her without a backwards glance, and goddamn, does that feel good.
The night of the masquerade ball, I’m still hesitant to attend. Loni and Henry, determined to get me over my anxiety, show up to my dorm room with a bottle of tequila and some limes.
“Pregame bitch!” she shouts, fluffing the layers of her poofy cocktail dress, as they storm my personal space.
Henry pours us all shots, and soon, I’m feeling a whole lot better about the evening to come. I’m feeling hot in my gorgeous little dress, and the mask makes me feel a little naughty.
Maybe that’s the tequila, actually.
When we’re all three good and tipsy, we make our way from my room to the campus’ ballroom—yes, I attend a school with a ballroom. It’s already filling up with the entire school, and everyone’s dressed up like this is the Oscars or something.
Henry, Loni, and I walk into the ballroom arm-in-arm. I gasp when I see the decorations. Of course, I helped put them up, but that was in the light of day without the full effects on display.
“Damn, Loni.” I grin. “Y’all really outdid yourself for this one.”
“You’re so cute when you say that. Y’all.” Loni gazes around, looking pleased, as she should. “It does look spectacular, though, doesn’t it?”
We make our way further inside, and I can’t help but gaze around for any sign of Saint. Will he like my dress? He should, since he picked it out for me. That thought makes me shiver, and I’m suddenly very horny as well as tipsy. Saint hasn’t come to my room since the night Laurel poisoned me, and I’m aching for him.
God, what the hell has he done to me?
Finally, my eyes land on a tall blonde guy standing on the edge of the dancefloor. His mask is so similar to mine, I’ve no doubt in my mind that it’s Saint. We lock eyes from across the room, and he raises his hand to summon me over with a crook of his finger.
I hesitate a moment because I’m not sure I’m ready for a public display with him. Yet, he looks so tempting and mysterious all dressed up and masked like that, I’m having a hard time resisting him.
“Guys, I’ll be right back,” I tell Loni and Henry.
“We’ll be here!” she sings, but I think she’s too distracted by everyone around her congratulating her on such a good job putting the dance together, she doesn’t notice where I’m going.
I make my way over to the masked guy and stop in front of him.
“Happy?” I ask in a syrupy sweet voice as I bat my eyelashes.
He doesn’t say anything, just holds out his hand for me to take. I slip my palm against his, and instantly, something feels wrong.
“Wait—”
Before I can finish my sentence, the guy’s pulling me out to the dancefloor with him. I feel a fissure of apprehension course up my spine. I don’t think this is Saint. He looks a lot like him, at least with the mask, but he’s not quite as broad, though he is about the right height. This guy’s hands and fingers are longer and slenderer than Saint’s thick ones, and the way he’s touching me is possessive, but not … obsessive.
As Billie Eilish’s “You Should See Me in a Crown” plays over the speaker, the guy’s hand wraps around my waist and pulls me tight against him. His body his hard, and I’m pressed so tight to him, I can feel every line, every angle, everything. My cheeks flood with heat.
“Who are you?” I realize how rude that question sounds as soon as it’s out of my mouth. “Sorry, I mean, you’re obviously not who I thought you were.”
The guy shrugs, but still doesn’t speak. I try to see behind his mask, but it covers half his face, and the room is dim. I’m beginning to think I know him because there’s something very familiar about the way he holds himself, but I can’t quite put my finger on who it is. It’s clear by his mask that he’s the one who bought me this dress, but I can’t think of anyone other than Saint who’d be motivated to do so.
“Look, I’m all for a little mystery, but this is getting kind of weird.” I move to step out of his arms and end our dance, but his fingers tighten against me, and he holds me still as his head dips and captures my lips.
I gasp in shock, and his tongue sweeps into tangle with mine. This is definitely not Saint. I know Saint Angelle’s lips. I probably have every dip and curve of them memorized, and these aren’t them. Still, this guy’s a pretty good kisser. No, not pretty good.
Pretty epic.
With a strangled cry, I push the guy off me and glare up at him. “What the hell was that?”
“Was that not good for you? We can try again, if you’d like.”
I recognize that voice. Holy fuck, I know who this is.
Reaching up, I tear the mask from his face like I’m Scooby-Doo and he’s my bad guy. I gape up in disbelief at Liam.
“What … what are you … what are you doing?”
He smirks down at me and runs his hand through his hair, which I can see now is colored with some kind of spray.
“Just thought I’d come to the Halloween ball dressed as the biggest fucking sham I know. Since I’m faking it, figured I’d bring you along for the ride.”
He’s done this on purpose. He dressed as Saint to intentionally confuse and trick me. Anger spirals from the pit of my stomach through my chest, blazing out of control. After weeks of saying nothing to me in English class, and avoiding me on campus, he pulls this bullshit on me? I shove at his chest, though I don’t budge him an inch.
“What are you trying to prove?” I demand to know.
He opens his mouth to answer, but before any words can make their way out, the crowd parts to my right. I turn, and my heart shoots up into my throat.
Saint’s storming our way, and I can tell by the look in his eyes, that he’s out for blood.
25
Saint swings at Liam without uttering a single word. His fist connects right with Liam’s cheek, sending him stumbling to the side with a growl. Saint doesn’t give him a moment to bounce back. He charges him with an enraged shout, and slams into him like a linebacker. Both boys fall to the ground, but Saint’s straddling Liam and wailing on him the next moment.
“What the hell is wrong with you two?” I scream, but they’re not listening to me.
I don’t know if Saint can even hear me over his fury. For a moment, I fear he might accidently kill Liam, but then Liam manages to throw Saint off him with his long legs. He dives after Saint, slamming his fist into his friend’s face again and again. At this point, several of the teacher chaperones, and Gabe, rush forward to try and break the two up. It seems an impossible task, as they appear pretty determined to kill each other.
After a few moments of angry shouts, cursing, and wrestling, Gabe and the chaperones manage to separate Liam and Saint. They’re both sporting swollen lips, and I’m sure Liam’s going to have two black eyes tomorrow.
I stand to the side, horrified, as the teachers try to drag them away. Liam’s not done, though, and he glares over at me.
“I thought you were better than this, Ellis. Better than him! You fucked yourself over the moment you started trusting him.”
His words are like a slap in the face, filling me with both pain and anger. I open my mouth ready to retaliate, when Saint beats me to it.
“You’re just mad you didn’t get her first.” He sneers at Liam. “It’d never worked out between you two, though. My girl likes to scream.”
My jaw drops and I stare at him in horrified disbelief. Did he just basically tell the who
school that we’re having sex with each other? Did he really just use that fact to taunt his best friend?
I’m mortified.
I ignore Liam and stare coldly at Saint as the teachers pull him away. All around me, the other students are murmuring and whispering to each other, staring at me with varied levels of shock and denial.
There are even a few jealous glares that find their way toward me.
Don’t worry, ladies. That asshole’s going to be unattached soon enough.
I manage to ignore Saint the rest of the weekend, as well as most everybody else on campus. I’m so humiliated, just the thought of having to face everyone and their fresh wave of ridicule makes my stomach churn. The only person I don’t avoid is Loni. She deserves an explanation, more than anyone else I know.
To my complete relief, she takes the news that I’ve been boning Saint Angelle on the reg fairly well. I think it definitely helps that she no longer believes he’s responsible for Nick’s attack, but he’s still a royal asshole, as he’d proven himself to be the night of the dance. I’d left immediately after he and Liam had been taken away. I’d endured enough for one evening.
It’s Monday morning, though, which means I can no longer avoid the real world, even though I really, really want to. Loni’s meeting me in the dining hall as usual, which I’m so thankful for. I don’t know that I can face the fallout of this alone.
Making my way across campus, I pause when I reach the dining hall doors and take a deep breath to fortify myself for the shitstorm to come. When I can’t put it off any longer, I go inside.
The first thing I notice is how people are staring at me as I make my way through the tables. They’re not glaring, like they usually do. I’m receiving no dirty looks whatsoever. In fact, a few people are looking at me as if in awe.
Apparently, Angelview is the new Twilight Zone.
I make my way toward the buffet, and when the people in front of me notice I’m standing there, they actually step out of my way and let me go ahead of them. I furrow my brow, certain the other shoe’s about to drop at any moment, but I get my tray of food and make my way back out to the main dining hall.
Loni’s at our usual table, and I begin to make my way toward her. I catch a few people’s eyes as I pass by, their smiles and the nods of their heads, almost as if I’m royalty or something. Are people really treating me this way because I’m having sex with Saint? I don’t know how to feel about that, and simply don’t have the brain capacity at present to process everything.
I stop short when I realize Laurel and her crew are sitting at a table directly in my path to Loni. For a moment, I consider just taking a wider path and going around them, but at that moment, Laurel glances up and we make eye contact. I’m not about to look like a coward in front of her, so I hold my head high and march forward. One of her friend’s chairs is too far out from the table and is blocking the walkway. I consider asking her to move it, but then think she’s probably blocking my path on purpose.
“Saydi, get your fucking chair out of Mallory’s way,” Laurel snaps, shocking the hell out of me. Her friend, Saydi, quickly scoots her chair in and shoots me an apologetic look.
Is this real life?
Am I in another dimension?
Have I died and this is a twisted circle of hell or something?
“Thanks,” I murmur, moving past Saydi. I glance up at Laurel, and she’s smiling at me, but her eyes are hard, as if she’s holding back every terrible thing she wants to hurl my way. Why isn’t she unloading on me like usual? The whole school just found out I’m fucking her ex, who she’s clearly not over, but instead of trying to kill me as I would expect, she’s playing nice? I can tell by the stress lines around her mouth that it’s forced, but she’s playing the part all the same.
I shake my head, baffled, and rush past their table.
My gaze sweeps the rest of the cafeteria, and I’m curious about something. I glance toward the table where Saint, Liam, and Gabe usually all sit together. Saint and Gabe are there, but Liam’s MIA. That hurts my heart a little bit.
Scratch that, a lot.
Saint looks up and we meet eyes. He tilts his head toward one of the chairs next to him, a clear invitation to join him.
I give my head a little shake and use my tray to point to the table that Loni’s sitting at. I’m still mad at him for what he did, though not so much as when I thought I’d be tormented mercilessly because of it. Ultimately, though, I’ve already promised my presence to Loni, and I’m not about to ditch her. Making my way over to her, I give her a wide-eyed look and plop down with a heavy sigh.
“What’s up, buttercup?” she asks with a smile.
“Zombies.” I raise one arm and sweep my hand around the room. “Zombies everywhere.”
She takes a bite of her fruit and yogurt parfait and shakes her head. “No, no, no. They’re not zombies. They’re acting respectful of the high god’s concubine.”
A chuckle bursts from my chest at her apt description. “I’m not a concubine.”
She grins and shrugs. “I think concubine sounds better than side-piece or piece of ass. It’s a lot classier.”
“I suppose, when you put it that way…”
She puts her food down and leans over the table to whisper, “Just remember, it’s not that they love you, it’s that they fear him.”
“Thanks for that vote of confidence.”
“I’m just saying, and you know it’s true.”
I do know it’s true. As weird as it is, I know people aren’t being nice to me because of me. They’re doing it because they don’t want to piss Saint off. Still, I can’t say it isn’t a nice change of pace.
It’s a relief not to be called a slut under someone’s breath, or have people try to pelt me with grapes.
“I don’t want to talk about Saint right now,” I tell Loni. “What’s happening in your life? Distract me from this weird nonsense, please.”
“Oh, you want different weird nonsense?” She leans in close to me, suddenly bouncing in her seat. “Have I got some crazy shit for you.”
I’m intrigued. Loni seems to have the best, most random stories.
“So, you know my ex, Brandon?”
“Super-hot jerkface who surfs through life on a wave of privilege and didn’t report Nick’s attackers? Yeah, I’ve heard of him.”
She snorts. “That’s a very good description of him, I’m not going to lie. Anyway, Brandon shows up at my door last night, and says he wants to talk about the night of the attack.”
“What?” I exclaim.
She bobs her head. “It was super awkward. At first, I told him to go away, but he wouldn’t listen and just kept begging me to let him in. I finally caved because I’m weak and stupid. Anyway, he starts telling me…”
She suddenly trails off, and I frown. “What? He started telling you what?”
“I may need to finish this story another time,” she says, her tone suddenly reserved, her spine stiff.
I’m so confused by her sudden change in demeanor, from her usual perky self to more guarded, until a tray is set right next to me. I glance up, and I let out a gasp.
It’s Saint.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
He settles into the chair beside me with a shrug. “Eating. You should be used to watching me do that by now.”
Oh. My. God. Kill me now. I ignore Loni’s bulging eyes, and blurt out, “I’m not an idiot. What’re you doing here, at this table?”
He meets my gaze with an almost bored expression. “You didn’t come sit with me, so I’m sitting with you.”
As if that explains everything. He’s tiptoeing into dating territory with this move, and it’s confusing the ever-living hell out of me.
Loni is staring at us in awe, her eyes bouncing from me to him and back again like a tennis match. “This is one of the most random things I think has ever happened to me,” she finally murmurs after he tips his golden head in her direction and mutters a, “What the
fuck’s your problem, Baby Juggernaut?”
The most random thing that’s ever happened to her?
She has no idea.
26
For the first time since I started at Angelview, people are treating me with respect. Like, real, consistent respect. A part of me thinks I should be a little ashamed that it’s because of who I’m sleeping with, but the part of me most interested in self-preservation doesn’t really care.
I don’t trust everyone, or course. Hell, other than Loni and Henry, I don’t trust anyone. I know these people could flip back into hating me with a snap of Saint’s fingers. Some of them still hate me, like Laurel, who thinks that granting me a few forced words of kindness will make me forget she poisoned me, and Jon Eric and Finnegan, who hate my fucking guts. Apart from those three, however, I can’t complain overly much.
It’s nice not being ridiculed and tormented every waking hour of my day.
On the last Wednesday before Fall Break, I make my way to the library to study for a test. I’m feeling lighter than usual, and I think it’s the combination of not being a total social pariah, and the incredible sex. I’ve let Saint come back to my room at night, and he’s making up for telling everyone we’re having sex in big, mind-blowing ways. I might actually be somewhere in the realm of happy for the first time in months, and it’s a feeling I really don’t want to go away.
Unfortunately, when I walk into the library and almost immediately spot Liam, some of that happiness does fade. He’s been avoiding me completely since the dance. This is the first time I’ve seen him outside of class, and I hate that things have gotten so bad between us.
I want to try and mend things as best I can. I can’t fix whatever’s going on between him and Saint, but that doesn’t need to dictate Liam’s relationship with me.
Right?
Squaring my shoulders, I march over to his table and plop down in the seat across from him.
He glances up, then immediately scowls.
“What are you doing?”