Evan winced as she nervously pulled on her ever-present ponytail. The history project was how this whole mess started. She and Hunter had been partnered on it and the kiss had happened after their first—and only—study meeting. Post Follow the Stars, Hunter had sent her a terse email dividing up the rest of the work for them to do separately, making Evan beat herself up even more for opening her big mouth to Ellie. She had composed ten different emails to apologize to him, but every time she was about to push “send” she’d get too nervous to go through with it.
Mr. Walsh disseminated the grading sheets to one partner in each group as he made his way up and down the aisles. He finally reached Evan and handed her the sheet with a large “A” marked at the top in red. For the first time in her life, she didn’t care about her grade on a paper. She cared much more about the fact that since Mr. Walsh had handed it to her, that meant Hunter would be forced to talk to her after class to find out what their grade was. If she could work up enough nerve and apologize for her role in his break-up, maybe he would end this horrible silent treatment and they could put this all behind them.
The bell shrilled in her ear and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hunter making his way toward her desk. She stood, her pulse speeding up with adrenaline.
“Hey,” she said, quietly, willing her face not to redden as it always did when she was around him.
“What did we get?” he asked quickly, ignoring any sort of formal greeting. He was looking in any direction but hers, even though she couldn’t take her eyes off him.
“We got an A,” she answered with forced cheeriness.
He mumbled, “Great,” then turned to walk out of the classroom.
“Hunter, wait!” Her voice sounded much needier than she wanted, but at least he stopped. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
He put his hands in his pockets and finally locked his eyes on hers like a magnet. She almost forgot what she was going to say. Almost.
“I, um, I just wanted to say…I’m sorry,” she started, focusing on her breathing so she didn’t pass out. Although if she did, at least she would have an excusable way out of this conversation. “For telling Ellie about your dad. I should have never butted in.”
He looked down at his feet, then back up at her again. “Right. Well, I wasn’t surprised you did it. You just couldn’t help yourself.”
Her heart leapt into her throat like it was sprinting from a fire. There was a distinct possibility it wasn’t even beating anymore.
He looked like he was about to say something else, but thankfully he decided against it and walked out of the room instead. She lifelessly put her textbook in her backpack, his words echoing in her ears.
You just couldn’t help yourself.
He had written her off like a bottom ninety-nine percenter at a Republican fundraiser. She didn’t know it was possible, but she felt even more heartbroken. She had been delusional to think she still had a shot with him. He had zero interest in having a conversation. It was more like he wanted her to completely disappear.
The horrible school day was mercifully over and Evan walked toward her car in the parking lot, her hand intertwined with Luke’s. Every day they made sure to be seen walking in and out of school together, hand in hand, keeping up the charade of their relationship. Luke’s dad was a congressman from Utah, and though he and Luke’s mother were fine with his homosexuality, Congressman Jensen’s Mormon contributors would not be nearly as accepting if they found out. Hence the reason Evan was pretending to be his girlfriend. She hated lying, but Luke was her best friend and she would never leave him hanging out to dry.
“So have you thought anymore about our break-up?” he asked cheerfully. He had informed her a few nights ago that their fake relationship had worked well enough for the time being and he didn’t want to put her in this awkward position any longer than he had to.
She shrugged as she looked up at him. Way up at him. She was used to being shorter than everyone in their class, but as the star center of the G.A. basketball team, Luke was over a foot taller than her. It was like standing next to the Washington Monument.
“Not really.” She had thought when she and Luke finally “broke up,” it would mean she could be with Hunter. But after today, that was clearly not an option.
They reached her car and he squeezed her hand, knowing what she was thinking without her having to say it. “He’ll get over it, Evs. I promise.”
“Do you still want to break up on the ski retreat?” she asked, veering the conversation away from the disastrous history class encounter.
“I’m thinking we should do it on the plane ride there since it’ll be all G.A. students. Once one person hears about it, it’ll spread so fast the flight attendants will probably announce it on the loud speaker.”
“Can we keep the reason simple? Like we decided we’re better as friends?” The last thing she needed was to add a dramatic break-up to her life. Even if it was fake.
“Nah, that’s way too boring. What if we say you were too kinky in bed and I wasn’t into the whole whips and chains thing?”
She gave him a withering look. “I thought we were trying to make this believable.”
He laughed, smoothing a hand over his shaved head. “Okay. Then we should say you were too in love with Hunter McKnight and I couldn’t handle it. You did technically cheat on me with him.”
She balked. No one even knew about her kiss with Hunter except Ellie. That was the last thing she wanted the school gossiping about. “No way.”
“On the bright side, I bet it would make him start talking to you again.”
She opened her car door. “I’ll call you after work. You better have come up with something better by then or we’re going with my excuse.”
He bent down and kissed her for the benefit of a few students passing by.
“All right, all right. I’m on it. No whips, no chains, no McKnightus.”
Later that evening, Evan strode down the hallways of Today in Politics with Paul Nelson, feeling much more comfortable there than at school. The sound of Hunter’s cruel words were momentarily drowned out of her mind by the buzz of excitement as everyone around her compared their notes on the new Supreme Court nomination. Paul Nelson, one of the most highly respected television journalists in the business, would be reporting on it in his live taping forty-five minutes from now. The flat screens in the hallway were running through the day’s coverage including a scathing sound bite from Senator Mills saying it would be a huge mistake to confirm Gail Morris because her rulings on gun control prove she has a liberal bias. It was unbelievable Gabe was related to him at all, much less his son. The guy made Rush Limbaugh look open-minded.
Evan suddenly spotted her boss, Samantha Whitman, walking toward her, her light blond hair swishing around her shoulders like a salon ad. She was effortlessly chic in a black leather pencil skirt with a white silk button-down tucked into it. Her customary five-inch heels purposefully clacked on the floor beneath her as she got closer to Evan.
“Hey, Samantha!” Evan eagerly said as she passed by.
“Hello,” she answered briskly.
“I’ve really had my ear to the ground lately. I’m hoping I can get some intel—”
Samantha had already brushed by her. Evan sighed. Samantha, with her countless Peabody awards, was a role model to her, and a few weeks ago, she had taken her under her wing when she learned Evan went to Georgetown Academy and thus, had unique access to D.C. insider knowledge. But everything changed when Samantha came to her a few weeks ago, saying she had a source from another D.C. school who was claiming Congressmen Jensen’s son was gay. She had hoped Evan could confirm the story for her since she went to school with Luke. That’s when the lies had started. Evan couldn’t let Luke be outed on a national stage, so she told Samantha he was actually her boyfriend and therefore the story was obviously a ridiculous rumor. Samantha was the sharpest woman Evan knew and was dubious about her sudden relationship, but without a se
cond source emerging, fortunately for Luke, the story had died down. Unfortunately for Evan, now Samantha no longer looked at her as someone worth mentoring.
Evan continued down the hallway and entered the office of Maura Ledding, the woman who was responsible for giving Evan her daily intern tasks.
“Hey, Evan,” Maura said, looking up from her chaotic and cluttered desk where she was furiously typing on her computer. Maura was the opposite of Samantha. Her dark, frizzy hair looked like it hadn’t been combed for days and the purple bags under her eyes made her appear much older than her twenty-nine years.
Evan handed her a stack of papers, trying not to look at the massive coffee stain that crept up the front of Maura’s baggy cream sweater. “Here are the notes from the meeting,” Evan said.
Maura added the printout to another stack of disorganized papers on her desk, taking a long swig from her can of Red Bull.
“Before you leave, I need you to do some research for me,” she said as Evan attempted to sit down across from her. Binders and old Starbucks cups covered the chair, so she perched on the arm instead.
“I have a team already digging into Gail Morris’s past cases,” Maura continued, “But I need you to look into her personal life. All we really know so far is that her husband croaked two years ago from pancreatic cancer.” Evan cringed. Tact was not Maura’s strong suit. “She has a son, Weston, though, who we don’t really know anything about except that he’s in high school. I need some details.”
Evan sat in an empty conference room with a borrowed network laptop, punching in Weston’s name to several professional search engines she had access to through the show. Weston Morris was listed in the starting line-up of Landon’s lacrosse team, but she couldn’t find any yearbook photos of him.
That’s odd, she thought as she clicked on to another site.
Finally she found one. But it wasn’t a yearbook photo from Landon. It was from Sidwell Friends, another D.C. private school in the area. She quickly traced the yearbook photos all the way back to his kindergarten days there. She clicked back to the Landon site and studied the dates on a few articles about school events where Weston’s name was mentioned. It looked like he had only been going to Landon since November.
Why had he switched schools in the middle of the school year? Especially as a senior when he had gone to Sidwell his entire life.
It could be nothing, but Evan’s journalism instincts were kicking into high gear. Maybe if she broke something big about Weston, she could redeem herself and get back into Samantha’s good graces.
Her heart raced as she leaned closer to the computer. Something told her there was more to this story. She just had to find out what.
CHAPTER FOUR
Wednesday, 9:02 p.m.
Taryn bit into a large vegetable tempura roll, not even wincing at the spicy wasabi she had dolloped on top, wondering when Gabe, who was sitting across from her eating a spicy tuna roll, was finally going to ask her. She thought it would happen as soon as they sat down, but clearly he was waiting for the exact right moment.
“What?” he said, catching her watching him. He ran his hand through his dark hair, something that never failed to kick start Taryn’s heartbeat, and his eyes, usually deep and intense, now seemed to be laughing.
“Nothing,” she replied, as she tapped his foot playfully under the table and looked at him from under her dark lashes.
She and Gabe had been dating (or “hanging out” as she annoyingly heard him refer to it the other day) since the Follow the Stars gala two weeks ago, and they’d seen each other almost every night since whether it was to do homework, grab a meal somewhere or check out a movie. Gabe had bought a professional Nikon the previous week, and Taryn had finally unearthed hers from the moving boxes, and the two of them loved walking through the city, taking interesting photos of whatever spontaneously inspired them, or even of each other. Gabe looked as hot digitally as he did in person.
But not once during that entire two weeks had he mentioned making their relationship official. Taryn tried to be pretty laidback about things like that, not wanting to rush into a title for the sake of a title, but she was so into Gabe. She didn’t want him to date anyone else. And she wanted him to feel the same way.
She was on the verge of saying something to him on a few different occasions, but kept holding herself back, the timing not feeling quite right to her. And then, last night, she and Gabe had been talking on the phone and her eyes had been so heavy she was sure she’d fall asleep before she could hang up the receiver. But they snapped open the second Gabe said he had something special planned for tonight. Something in his tone suggested he was finally going to ask her to be his girlfriend. As soon as they got off the phone, she planted herself in front of her overflowing walk-in closet. After an hour of trying on different combinations of outfits, she had finally decided on wide-leg jeans, a bright floral, long-sleeved flowy top and a cream faux-fur vest. It was the perfect outfit for a perfect night.
Luckily, her excitement hadn’t infringed on her appetite, since they were starting out at Sushiko, the one restaurant she and Gabe, who had been to California numerous times while he lived in Arizona, both thought had sushi as good as you could get on the West Coast. Taryn had only moved to Washington D.C. a few weeks ago from Los Angeles, after her father, the former governor of California, who had been widely predicted to eventually become the first Hispanic President of the United States, had been elected to Congress. Sushi, In-N-Out grilled cheeses, and decent Mexican food were the three things she missed most from home.
“Taryn! Gabe! Hey!” called out Fiona Hutchison, a girl from their history class, who had been seated a few tables away, her bangs woven into a medieval-style braid across her forehead. Apparently, she and Gabe weren’t the only G.A. students who were fans of the place. Taryn smiled back, giving a friendly wave, though she didn’t engage her further, especially when she realized Fiona was now wearing the same House of Harlow sunburst necklace Taryn had rocked a few days ago. Though Taryn would love to think it was just a stylistic coincidence, she knew better now.
Ever since Follow the Stars, everyone at G.A. was back to wanting to be Taryn’s best friend, even imitating her style in the process. Somehow, the fact that she had misinterpreted the dress code of the event, opting to show up in a Marilyn Monroe costume instead of the standard sequined dress, had ended up endearing her to both the D.C. press and, as a result, the G.A. student body.
However, though she and Gabe, who had kissed on the dance floor that very evening, seemed to have been anointed the favorite couple of Georgetown Academy, they hadn’t even had the conversation yet about whether they were a couple!
But maybe that will change tonight… She bit her lip in excitement, willing her inner-optimist to be correct.
Just then, Thatcher Wellington, Jenny Lim and Harrison Blatt ambled over to Fiona’s table, sitting down with her. There seemed to be even more G.A. students out and about than usual because, with the ski trip starting tomorrow, no one had any homework to keep them in.
“Hi, guys!” Thatcher called out to Taryn and Gabe, his shaggy hair swinging as he said it.
“Do you want to join us?” Jenny asked, a hint over-eager. She had actually just experienced her own rise in popularity at G.A. as her senator father, Mike Lim, had recently become the talk of the town after a video of an inspiring speech he gave on the steps of the Capitol went viral. “We can add two more chairs.”
Taryn glanced at Gabe, with a look of slight alarm. Though she was grateful everyone was now being so kind to her, she found it impossible to forget this same group of people ruthlessly taunted and ignored her the first two weeks of school after Brinley Madison spread a nasty rumor about her. Taryn, always easygoing, never held grudges, and she had no need for revenge, but she took everyone’s friendly, grand gestures with a grain of salt. She already learned the hard way that almost none of these people were true friends, and so she preferred to keep most of the G.A. students
strictly at acquaintance level only.
Luckily, Gabe understood that.
“Sorry,” he responded in a voice that wasn’t remotely apologetic. “I promised Taryn a special date tonight.”
The girls at the table erupted into saccharine Awws, which seemed to perturb Gabe.
“Can we get out of here?” he whispered to her.
“Yeah,” she replied, her voice dripping in anticipation. “Let’s go.”
Gabe suggested they walk to their next venue, which he was keeping a surprise. The night was cold, but clear, and Taryn kept her body snuggled into him as he steered her onto Twenty-First Street. She got a whiff of cigarette smoke from the stressed out, late-working employees in front of the heavily guarded State Department building as they passed by.
“I’m so excited about Stowe. I hear they have some awesome runs.” Taryn had grown up doing the California ski resorts from Mammoth to Lake Tahoe.
“Yeah. I don’t know if I’m going to board while I’m there.”
“Really?” she asked, her visions of the two of them cuddling on the ski lifts dissolving before her eyes. Plus, she could only imagine how hot he would look tearing down the side of a mountain.
“I haven’t done it in forever and it’s such a pain in the ass. You have to haul all the gear up there, spend the whole day wet, freezing and sore.”
“That’s what people who suck at it say,” Taryn told him, teasingly.
“Why do I have a feeling you’re as good at snowboarding as you are at air hockey?” he asked, cocking his head to the side so he could face her. “I’m not getting suckered into any more bets.”
She laughed, remembering their first encounter at the rookie party a few weeks ago. “I’ll go easy on you.”
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