“Great,” I say, then excuse myself to greet two women in Senator Sterling T-shirts approaching the hostess station.
The conversation may have hit a wall for the moment, but Myra Fenrir knows something, and I intend to find out what.
CHAPTER 9
We hit traffic on the way home, which adds another hour onto the drive. Because we’re starving, Moore swings into a fast-food drive-through and grills me on what I learned over chicken strips and fries.
“Nothing yet,” I tell him.
I met Jessica, the manager, after Sterling’s group left. She’s a gorgeous redhead who has some strong feelings about me using my supposed connections to get the job, and made it clear that she doesn’t have to keep me just because of who I know. For the rest of my shift, she watched me very closely, correcting my posture when I walked and reminding me to smile until my jaws ached. The night ended with a lecture on confidentiality.
You’ll hear all kinds of things said in The Loft, she said. They’re not gossip material. The reason our members feel safe talking openly here is because they can depend on the staff’s discretion. Understand?
No problem. I’m only reporting everything I find to a man building a missing person case against the senator. I’m sure that won’t upset her in the slightest.
Back at Vale Hall, everyone has eaten and scattered, and I dodge upstairs to change clothes before I run into Grayson and have to make up a reason why I’m dressed this way.
When I’m back in sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt, I head upstairs to knock on his door, but his room is open, and he’s not lying in the unmade bed.
Pulse racing, I jog back down the stairs, looking for Charlotte, or Caleb, or any of the others who might have seen him. I check the kitchen, but it’s empty. Joel and Paz are making out in the study, which I didn’t really see coming, so I duck outside, but I don’t see Grayson on the path to the garden where we talked before.
Worry quickens my steps. PE did not go well earlier—I never should have left when he was upset. He could have waited until the house was quiet, then snuck out the front door. Or maybe he came downstairs searching for me and instead faced a room full of staring faces. I’ve seen Grayson in social situations—like at his party, the first night I met him. He doesn’t do small talk. I should have told him I was going out for a little while.
He could be gone already, and even if I was working, I can’t help feeling like that’s on me.
Voices filter up from the pit—maybe someone down there has seen him. I hurry through the dining room toward the basement steps, the familiar engine growl of Road Racers growing louder as I descend.
Everyone’s gathered around the TV, cheering for cars six and eight as they round the final stretch of the muddy track. Their backs are to me, but I don’t have to see their faces to know who’s playing.
Car eight is Henry. Car six is Grayson.
I come up behind them, but no one looks up except Geri, who flicks her straight, dark hair over the shoulder of her designer tee, and gives me a look that says nice of you to show up.
My gaze shoots to Grayson, who’s sitting forward on the couch, banging his thumb against the controller like a drummer in the midst of a solo, and actually grinning.
Like he’s having fun.
As I watch, Henry pushes his shoulder, a deliberate attempt to unseat his lead. Grayson mutters a curse but wins anyway.
He throws his arms up in victory while Henry groans and falls back against the cushions. Beth, Alice, and Bea, all juniors with Geri, cheer on one side, Charlotte whoops on the other. Sam, sitting on the floor between Charlotte’s knees, reaches up to give Grayson a fist bump.
Caleb is nowhere to be seen.
Grayson is hanging out with my friends. I have had dreams that aren’t as surreal as this moment.
“Nice job,” I say.
At this, everyone turns around to face me, and my cheeks light up like a stoplight. Apparently I was wrong to think Grayson couldn’t handle this place alone. He’s blended in just fine—too fine, and now everyone’s staring at me like I’m the one who doesn’t belong.
“What’s up?” Grayson’s ears turn pink, and he tosses the controller on the cushion like he just got caught stealing it.
Charlotte glances to Henry. Henry sinks in his seat. Geri’s grimace could rival the Wicked Witch of the West’s. Everyone seems to be waiting for my response.
This may be awkward, but Grayson’s doing exactly what he should be—fitting in. He’s comfortable, and I can’t chance ruining that, so I push whatever weirdness I feel aside and play the part.
The grin comes easily. I tie my hair back with a band around my wrist.
“I call next,” I say.
The room breathes a collective sigh of relief.
“This should be good,” says Geri as I come around the front of the couch. “Brynn’s barely better than Henry.”
“Hey,” objects Henry, but he passes me the controller. I wedge between him and Grayson, sandwiched so tightly our thighs are all touching. Geri hands Grayson the controller, which he takes, elbowing me playfully, but tentatively, out of his way.
We pick our cars, and as the engines rev, he leans close and whispers, “Where were you? I got a note in my pocket to meet here.”
“A note?” My gaze switches to Henry, who has a fun habit of planting things on other people. When he catches me looking, he smiles broadly, and tips his head toward Grayson, as if I should be impressed with what he’s accomplished.
“Ah. That wasn’t me.”
“You don’t say.” Grayson’s staring at the screen, irritated, and it occurs to me I misjudged how difficult it is for him to put on a show. This good time might very well be a cover.
“I had to run out,” I say. “Got stuck in traffic. Why? Did you miss me?”
He gives the smallest shrug. “I met the hotel chain heiress and the game coder.”
My eyes widen as he nods to Charlotte and Sam. Wonderful. They’ve chosen aliases. Grayson clears his throat as his eyes flick to Geri. “And I’ve been catching up with old friends.”
Panic flutters in my chest as I pick our track—a snow course through the Alps.
I know why he’s unsettled. River Fest, when Geri planted a bag full of drugs on me, wasn’t the first time these two met. They knew each other before. They’ve slept together before.
But Grayson doesn’t know I know that.
And Geri would probably cut out my tongue if I let that secret fly.
“I can hear you, you know,” says Geri, examining her nails. “Yes, imagine my surprise to find Grayson cruising through the girls’ wing. Turns out it’s a small world after all.”
Charlotte stomps on her foot.
Henry sings the Small World song.
“I told you,” Grayson says, “I got turned around.”
“I’m sure you did, creeper,” says Geri. “Sometimes I get turned around and end up outside a hot girl’s bedroom, too. Spoiler alert: it’s not going to happen.”
Grayson glares at me. I glare at Geri.
“Take it down a notch,” I tell her. “I’m sure you got lost in this giant house when you were a new student, too.”