Carissa Collins is the daughter of Senator Cillian Collins from Arizona. The Chair of the Senate Appropriations Committee—the most powerful senator aside from the Majority Leader himself—and one who sits with the movers and shakers of D.C. and on more committees than I’ve heard of.
A career politician.
I click on images, and my screen immediately populates with pictures that look nothing like the makeup-free girl I’m trying to help graduate early. Most are of her and her family at political events. Some election rallies. She’s always sandwiched between one of her parents and a boy, taller and with dark hair, as opposed to her blond.
I scroll farther. That’s when I get to the good stuff.
The ones I’m sure she doesn’t want on the internet. Pictures of her from afar, with friends, or with the boy she was standing next to with her parents. I hover too long over the ones of her at the pool with friends. Or laying out on a boat. Coming and going from the gym. Being dropped off at school in a chauffeured SUV.
Never would I have guessed the new girl who’s failing chem would be the daughter of a prominent politician.
I go back to my original search and click on Cillian Collins.
This time I don’t just get news and political outlets. I also get a slew of cheesy-ass sites, but TMZ is at the top. I click on it.
Holy shit.
Seems the good senator is in the middle of a scandal.
A sex scandal.
“Levi! Emma!” Dad bellows from downstairs. “Dinner’s here.”
I’m starving. My dad was right—I could eat a whole chicken. But I don’t get up.
Instead, I open another app.
4
A PRICE FOR EVERYTHING
Carissa
Well, it seems Levi Hollingsworth—the lacrosse god who’s as smart as he is hot—took my word for it.
As he should.
No one in their right mind would want anything to do with the Collins drama. And the last twenty-four hours didn’t have anything to do with our drama. The last twenty-four hours was just life.
But life didn’t have to heat up to the levels of summer in the desert.
I should know, we were born and raised there, even though we were forced to travel with my parents to official congressional events. Washington D.C. is our second home.
Like, literally.
We have a home in Alexandria—but most career politicians do. It’s weird to know my dad is living his best life only forty-minutes from here, even though we haven’t seen him since Christmas Day when our world blew up.
The pieces still haven’t settled.
We were never forced to spend time with my mom’s parents. Sure, we would see them at random political or charity events and eat the obligatory Christmas meal together.
Louise sure didn’t spoil us with attention like my friends’ grandparents did. My mom always complained about her mom and never made her a priority.
So last night when Cade had an asthma attack, she had no idea what to do or how bad it could get.
It was so bad, I almost called my dad last night.
Almost.
Instead, I called 9-1-1. That’s how bad I don’t want to talk to my dad.
I’ve hardly slept and assume my tutor will no doubt dump me for being a failure. Why should he waste his time when I can’t manage to put in the work?
I’m about to throw my phone to the floor and take a nap when it rings.
I jump to pick it up, because no one calls me but my parents. I’m desperate to talk to my mom. As much as I don’t want to talk to my dad, after the last twenty-four hours, I’ll take it if he has any information about my mom.
My body turns to stone when I see the screen. It’s not my mom or my dad.
It’s Levi.
No one calls anyone. What the hell?
I swear, the phone vibrates through my fingertips and goes straight to my gut. There’s more than an ounce of desperation bubbling inside me laced with guilt for wasting his time since I haven’t cracked open my chemistry book.
I press answer. “Hey.”
There’s a pause. “Yeah, hey.”
Listening to those two one-syllable words hit me in his deep voice makes my insides squishy.
I fall back to my pillow. “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t had time to study. I’m going to take a quick nap and hit it hard tonight. Promise.”
“That’s not why I’m calling. What happened to your brother?”
I stare at the ceiling and picture his hazel eyes focused on me. “He has asthma. It wasn’t horrible to begin with, but he got agitated when Louise tried to tell him what to do. She wouldn’t listen to me, then it got worse, and that led to a hospital visit, which made it a full-blown attack.”
“Shit,” he mutters. “Is he okay now?”
I roll to my side and hug my pillow. “He’s better. The cold air triggers it. Thank you for asking. But I missed school today so Cade didn’t have to stay with Louise by himself. I’m sure this isn’t going to help my chem grade.”
“It’s one day. You’ll be fine. Who’s Louise?”
“My grandmother. She’s not exactly unicorns and rainbow sprinkles. Cade doesn’t like her—I’m not far behind. After last night, I’m sure he hates her, and I don’t blame him. Louise blamed me for blowing it out of proportion, which agitated Cade, and made it worse.”
He doesn’t say anything, and the silence starts to pang in my chest.
“Are you there?” I ask.
“I’m here. I want to ask a million questions that have nothing to do with chem, but they’re none of my business.”
“Join the club. I’m me, and I have a million questions.”
“I looked you up.” It’s a statement, and not one he sounds embarrassed by. He owns it like he does the halls when he moves from class to class, the lunchroom, and probably the lacrosse field.
“Great.” I cringe. “I used to get mad when people Googled me. Now that you have, you know why I’ve done my best to fly under the radar.”
“So you and your brother live with your grandmother?” he probes.
“Louise,” I correct him. “She doesn’t deserve the title of grandmother.”
“Sorry.” There’s a smile in his voice. I relish it, because I think it might be rare. “This living arrangement with Louise, is it a permanent thing?”
“If this is a permanent thing, then I’ll definitely flunk out of high school.”
“That hurts, Carissa. You have no confidence in your tutor.”
“Trust me, it’s not you, it’s me.”
“Wow. You hit me with the it’s not you, it’s me so soon into our arrangement?”
“Arrangement,” I echo. “But, yes, I did. Trust me, Levi. It’s for your own good.”
“You underestimate me. I might not’ve known what was good for me once, but I’m no idiot. I don’t need to learn a lesson twice.”
Well, that’s … interesting. “What lesson is that?”
“You haven’t earned that yet.”
“There’s a price?”
“There’s a price for everything. The most expensive are those without a dollar amount attached to them.”