She shrugs it off.
There are no secrets between us, and I know better than to be upset Ava told Ivy what she saw.
“Want to tell me why his shirt was off?”
I can’t tell her. It’s Ezra’s secret, and even though he never told me not to say anything, I feel obligated to stay quiet.
Sure, they were bruises, nothing new when it comes to the twins. But there was something different about the ones I saw, something darker and more painful, something that still sets my teeth together with anger.
“Not particularly. Plus, per Ezra’s rules, nobody is allowed to talk about me or who I kiss. You might want to shut up before he beats your ass next.”
Ivy snorts. “Yeah, okay. Somehow I don’t think that rule applies to us.”
It’s a nice rule, though. One that makes my heart squeeze tightly in my chest, the pernicious feeling of hope once again alive on the fluttering wings in my stomach and the whispers in my head.
Maybe he’s not as bad as the rest of the Inferno.
Maybe this is more than fun.
Maybe...
“I’m not even sure why he’s threatening people for you,” Ivy rambles on. “He asked Hillary to prom and Damon is taking her best friend, Kelly. So whatever it is you two were doing, don’t do it again. The twins are just as bad as the rest of their group.”
Or maybe not.
All the fluttering stops, and my hope crash lands into a festering wound Ivy tore open, one filled and bubbling with disgust. I should have known those secrets meant nothing.
“Why Hillary?”
It’s an accident to ask the question aloud, a thought that managed to sneak off my tongue before I could stop it.
They both glance at me, but it’s Ava that answers.
“Why does it matter? The twins are still up to their usual crap, and it’s better you find out now than after-“
Ivy elbows Ava and gives her a sharp look.
“We should all make a pact to avoid the Inferno guys,” Ivy offers. “I’ll stay away from Gabriel...”
Ava and I both laugh at that, which only earns us both a nasty glare.
“...and you stay away from the twins. It looks like the only person we don’t have to worry about is Ava. But only because she’s smart enough to stay away from all of them.”
Ava nods her head. “Of course I am. But then, I’ve always been the smartest among us.”
“Says the girl going to the same college as them,” Ivy retorts in a sing-song voice.
“Oh, please. The campus is huge. I highly doubt it will be a problem. Once high school is over, I plan to never have anything to do with them ever again.”
I believe her. Ava has always been popular with guys and has never once glanced in any of the Inferno boys’ directions. Plus, she is so dedicated to school, that she’ll be too busy at Yale studying to worry about socializing.
We turn a corner into the lunchroom, and it’s like the wind is knocked out of me.
Stopping dead the second I see the twins at the other end of the large space, heat races across my cheeks to see Hillary and Kelly standing next to them.
It shouldn’t feel like a knife is being stabbed in the center of my spine to catch my heart and shred it to pulp. Yet that’s exactly how it feels.
Thankfully, nobody has noticed us, and amber eyes don’t have a chance to lift and glance in my direction before I’m being dragged to a line for Ava’s salad.
“Don’t even look at them,” Ivy whispers. “It’s not worth it.”
“I’m not,” I lie, my eyes betraying me when they flick across the room to see the twins walking out the back door with Hillary and Kelly following behind them like puppies.
“Uh huh. Right. I believe that entirely,” she deadpans, sympathy in her stare. “I should have never encouraged you to get involved with them.”
“Why did you?” I ask, not in an accusatory way, or even mad, but because I’m curious why she felt the need to push me their direction.
She’s distracted, her eyes meeting mine for just a second before darting past me. I don’t have to turn around to know Gabriel is walking through the room. Only one person has the ability to draw Ivy like a moon orbiting the Earth.
“I don’t know,” she finally breathes out. “I thought it might be good for you. Especially with Ava and I having dates to prom, and for you it will be -“
“More of the same,” I finish for her.
She frowns.
“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”
When Ava gets back with a salad in hand, we walk through the lunchroom to go outside and take our usual place beneath a large willow tree that sits majestically near a retention pond most students call a lake.
We haven’t made it halfway across the expansive, sun-kissed lawn before Paul Rollings runs toward us, his brown hair tousled and blue eyes striking beneath the midday sun.
Ivy and Ava both step up because it must be one of them he wants to talk to. He smiles and excuses himself to step around and face me.
“Hey, do you have a second? I want to ask you something.”
Surprised, I blink up at him.
Paul is the varsity quarterback for our football team, and even though their season is done, he still carries that title and draws a large crowd of hopeful admirers everywhere he goes.
Compared to the Inferno boys, he’s standard, but that can be said of anyone not in their exclusive group.
Still, it’s weird he wants to talk to me. We’ve known each other for years and have spoken in class or said hello in passing, but nothing more than that.
Ivy and Ava are staring at me from behind him, odd expressions on their faces, a mixture of surprise and excitement, although I’m not sure why.
I look at him again, my voice soft. “Um, yeah.”
His hand gently touches my elbow as he leads me away a few steps, far enough that Ava and Ivy won’t overhear us.
It’s actually kind of cute how he shifts his weight between his feet and reaches to rub the back of his neck. He’s nervous, but I have no idea why.
“I’m just going to spit this out.” His blue eyes meet mine. “Would you go to prom with me?”
Okay, this is unexpected.
That bitch of a feeling blooms in me again, not as strong this time, nothing that grips my heart or flutters in my stomach. But this type of hope is more a gentle warmth that lets me believe for just one second that my life is normal, just like everybody else’s, and that I’m not bound to a marriage I don’t want.
Ten years.
Plenty of time to have fun.
Even if it’s not with the boy who first suggested it.
Temporary thoughts float through my mind of dressing up and waiting for Paul to arrive at my house. I can imagine the awkward feeling of first inviting him in and my mother wanting pictures, the scratchy band of the corsage he’ll put on my wrist, and the relief of finally walking out the door to go to the waiting car.
It’s all right there until reality comes crashing in that it will be Mason who does those things.
Always Mason.
The hope is gone again, and I hate myself for allowing the feeling at all.
“I-“ Breath leaks out of me, my shoulders withering. “I have to go with Mason,” I explain, “but if you’re okay with meeting me at the dance-“