He scowled, a mannerism that had always greatly annoyed her. “Are you going to the Hindman Foundation Gala in two weeks?”
Her head spun at the sudden change in topic, but she kept herself poised as always. “Yes, of course I am. I never miss it.” The gala was an annual event, and all the usual socialites would be there. The major lifestyle and fashion papers and magazines would be filled with pictures from the event for a few issues afterward. It was a good place to go after a breakup, too: Caterina’s friends called it the “Find Man” Gala because of the number of hookups that happened there.
Alaric smirked as a group of juniors walked by, talking about skiing in Aspen over the weekend. “Well, then you should know I will be there as well. And for my date, I’m bringing Lizel Falk.”
The name sounded familiar. Caterina frowned, trying to place it before it came to her. She jerked her gaze back to Alaric. “Lizel Falk? As in, the Australian model?”
Alaric’s eyes sparked with delight, knowing he had her. “Supermodel, actually.” He gave her a complacent smile; he’d had his teeth whitened over the break. “That won’t be a problem for you, will it?” He put on a faux air of concern and leaned in to graze her chin with one smooth finger. “Being all alone while I’m with her?”
Fury, loud and hot and powerful, washed over Caterina. Before she could think twice, she heard herself saying, “Who says I’m going to be alone?”
It was worth it just to see Alaric’s smile fade. “What? Who will you be going with?”
Caterina’s pulse raced. The only thing worse than her trite little lie would be for Alaric to figure out she was lying. She’d looked completely pathetic and weak, eager for his approval, actually caring what he thought of her. Tucking a lock of hair behind one ear, she shrugged in what she hoped was a gracefully insouciant manner. “Oh, just someone from a very well-connected family. I don’t think he’s ever been near disgusting assorted animal byproducts in his entire life. Not all of us can say the same now, can we, Alaric?” She was purposely hitting him where it hurt. The Konigs were very sensitive about the fact that they made their fortune from commercializing rarely used cow parts. “So you can go Falk yourself. And I’ll bring my own prince.”
He drew himself up, ugly splotches of red appearing on his cheeks. “Fine. I suppose I’ll see you then.” He turned and stalked off. Caterina could practically see the steam emanating from his ears.
She smiled to herself for a long moment until reality came seeping back in. Now what? She had to somehow come up with a well-placed boy to take to this thing. There were plenty of options at the school, of course, but…
But what, Caterina? she asked herself, annoyed. There shouldn’t be any “but.” Just ask one of them to go. She knew no one would deny her.
Caterina stood there as dozens of eligible boys walked past her, guffawing at jokes their friends were telling, showing off pictures of the new Ferraris they’d gotten for Christmas or Hanukkah, so shiny and perfectly Alaric-like in the uniforms their maids had pressed for them back home. The idea of approaching a single one, let alone allowing him to be her date for an entire evening in the spotlight, exhausted her to the bone. She was tired of the Alaricbots, fresh off the line, each one just like the other, and each one just like his father before him. What she wanted, she realized, her gaze bouncing off each one and going on to the next, was someone… completely… real.
Her eyes came to rest on Rahul as she thought the last word. He was still standing where she’d left him, simply because she’d asked him to wait and he was someone who was good for his word. His thumbs were moving quickly along his phone screen, and his glasses had slipped to the tip of his nose. He was biting his lower lip so hard, it was a wonder it wasn’t bleeding. His uniform was terribly ill-fitting; it must be at least three years old. One of the buttons on his shirt was hanging on by a thread, but he didn’t seem to have noticed.
He was, to put it quite bluntly, a mess. Rahul Chopra was not the kind of boy you took to the Hindman Foundation Gala, not if you wanted to reestablish yourself as Queen Cat, not if you wanted to pick up that crown, polish it, and set it back atop your head. Rahul Chopra was all wrong, as ill-fitting as his uniform.
Caterina found herself walking up to him. “Rahul.”
His attention snapped to her immediately.
She took a breath. “I have a proposition for you.”
CHAPTER 5
RAHUL
“Come with me,” Caterina said, heading in the opposite direction of where Rahul needed to go. The wooden double doors leading outside lay a couple of yards ahead of them, beyond a cluster of juniors.
“What… what about class?” he asked, his feet already picking themselves up and following her across the maroon-and-white checker-tiled floor, even if his brain wasn’t sure yet.
Caterina smirked at him over her shoulder. “I think you can afford to miss one class. You already have over a 4.0 GPA, don’t you? You’ll get caught back up soon enough.”
“That’s true,” Rahul mused, pushing his glasses up as he and Caterina neared the end of the hallway. “But what about you?”
Caterina laughed a little as she circumvented the juniors, pushed the doors open, and headed outside, toward a little picnic bench and table in the distance. It was cold but not snowy, the grass stiff with crystal flakes. “I’ll be okay. Italian is sort of my first language.”
“Oh.” Rahul glanced at her in the sudden quiet, away from the bustle of the other students. He heard the bell ping softly inside the building as they walked quickly toward the table, signaling the start of the next class, but he already felt far away, removed from it all.
They sat on the wooden bench, the cold seeping through his uniform pants and into his skin as he watched Caterina curiously. She perched beside him, her skirt swept under her. Setting her textbooks on the table, she took a deep breath, not looking at him.
All around them the Rosetta campus sat peacefully, still not fully adjusted to being overrun with students again. It felt more like home to Rahul than his own family’s house: the Rocky Mountains in the distance, always signaling west. The stately buildings around campus, including the ballroom with its domed roof where he’d danced with Caterina. The sprawling dorms, closer, that had been his home for most of his life. And here, in front of him on this chilly picnic bench, the only girl he’d ever loved, looking right at him now, as if she were evaluating something.
Rahul sat up straighter, adjusting his glasses surreptitiously, smoothing his hair back just a touch, wishing it looked more like Alaric’s or Grey’s or really anyone else’s than his own.
“Do you know what the Hindman Foundation Gala is?” Caterina’s voice was as crisp and cool as the air. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold, and Rahul wanted to immediately give her his blazer too. But he stopped himself. Intuitively he knew Caterina didn’t like to be seen as weak, and him offering her his blazer would definitely be misconstrued as a judgment on her strength.
“Um, is that like a dance?”
Caterina winced a bit, and Rahul was sure he’d said the wrong thing. “Yes, but it’s much more than a dance. It’s a society affair, where all the most influential people come together to celebrate the Hindmans and give their foundation a lot of money and basically parade around their wealth.”