Chapter Twenty-Eight
TWENTY-EIGHT
We go out for dinner in Savannah, since we’d miss it at Westdale. On the way back, Theo gets a text. He’s driving, but he glances at his watch. He must see enough of the message to concern him, because he frowns and passes his phone back.
“Mads, can you check that?”
Maddox unlocks Theo’s phone, and I wince. If you’re pretending you’ve just resumed an old friendship, maybe don’t let on you know each other’s pass codes? No one else notices, thankfully.
“It’s Dimitriou. She wants to talk to you.” Maddox flips to the next text and scowls. “As soon as you get back? It’s Sunday night.”
“We did all get passes, right?” I say.
“Yes,” Allegra says. “I obtained them myself from the weekend admin. She knew about Isolde and quickly issued the Lilith passes. She hesitated for Theo and Maddox, but I explained that there were concerns for Liliana’s safety, which she seemed to consider an overreaction.
” Allegra looks pointedly at us through the rearview mirror.
“But I insisted that I agreed with the precaution. She wrote all the passes. I confirmed all the names. I have them on my phone.” She lifts it and flips through.
“Well, it’s a legit outing,” I say, “but I’m guessing Ms. Dimitriou has an issue with the guys going.” I glance at Maddox. “She didn’t text you?”
He checks. “Nope. Maybe I’m next. Doesn’t matter. We have passes.”
“We do,” Theo says. “She’ll just tell me it was highly irregular, and I’ll thank her for being so understanding, blah-blah. I’ve got this.”
—
It’s after eight by the time we get back. Theo heads to speak to the principal. Polly wants to catch a movie in the media room, and Maddox needs some alone time, so I’m with Polly watching an action flick.
Allegra’s there, too, in body at least; she’s brought her sketchpad and sits in the back corner of the twelve-recliner room.
When I slip out to grab sodas, I see she’s drawing something obviously meant for Isolde.
I don’t ask whether it is. She’ll never admit it.
She’ll just whip that off her sketchpad when Isolde returns with a casual “this seemed to be your style,” as if she didn’t spend hours getting it exactly right.
When the movie ends, it’s nearly ten. We head out, Polly and I chattering about the film, Allegra lagging behind. I step into the hall and nearly trip over Theo. He’s sitting on the floor, right outside the media room.
“Hey,” he says, pushing to his feet.
His face is pale and strained, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it.
Polly quickly says she’ll see me tomorrow, and Allegra joins her as they move on.
“What’s wrong?” I say, taking Theo’s hands.
He pulls me into a hug so tight I can feel his heart pounding.
“Theo?” I say. “My phone wasn’t turned off. If you needed me—”
“I didn’t message.” He takes my hand. “Come on outside.”
I follow him upstairs to the main level as I machine-gun questions. Is it Isolde? Is it someone in his family? Wait, is Maddox okay? He assures me it’s nothing like that.
When we get outside, he says, “So, my meeting with Dimitriou.”
“That went okay, didn’t it?”
“Not…exactly.”
I pull his hand, turning him to face me. “Is she seriously giving you crap for leaving? You had a pass.”
“It wasn’t about today. It was about last night.”
“Last night? You had a pass for that. Is she upset about the mistake Isolde made? Some bullshit about it looking bad?”
“You could say that.” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been kicked out of the race for Optima.”
—
After that, Theo needs to steer me deep into the yard, because I don’t even need to hear more—I want to track Ms. Dimitriou down. Immediately.
We’re tucked inside the woods before Theo decides we’re far enough from the house for me to vent.
“What the actual hell?” I say. “You did nothing.”
“I know.”
“Does she think you did something? Let me talk to her. No, Cecilia can. She’ll get the police report, which unequivocally exonerates you.”
“It doesn’t matter, Lil.”
“The hell it doesn’t. Isolde made a very brief mistake, and the school cannot punish you for that.”
“The Optimas can remove any student from the competition at their discretion. No reason required. Just a vote.”
“The Optimas did this? But your father is—”
“Yep, and I’d rather not discuss that because I do not want to know which way he voted. The fact that he didn’t warn me—and apparently didn’t fight for me—is enough.”
“That—” I bite off the insult, and Theo pulls me into another tight hug.
“Thank you,” he says.
“For what?”
“Being so spectacularly pissed off on my behalf.” Another hug, and he releases me. “You know I didn’t actually want to win. So it shouldn’t hurt.”
“It hurts because you did want it. You wanted to be chosen and refuse.”
A faint smile. “I’m such a drama queen, huh?”
“Well, that makes two of us, because I was seriously considering doing the same if I was chosen. I wanted it until I realized you didn’t, and then I thought harder and realized I don’t either.
I just wanted to win. This seals the deal.
I absolutely don’t want to be part of any group that would kick out their best candidate because he was very briefly misidentified in a crime. The attack never even hit the papers.”
“It doesn’t matter. They’re worried it’ll come out and…Whatever. I don’t care.”
He does care. He cares because this wasn’t how he wanted his Optima race to end. Being kicked out? His own father not warning him? Not fighting for him?
I’m a competitor.
That’s what he said. Theo’s own father considered him competition.
And now Theo has been disqualified. Forced from the…
A realization hits, and I blink. Then I rock back, looking up at Theo.
“You’d have been a terrible Optima,” I say.
A ghost of his usual grin. “The worst.”
“No, I mean it. You’re a wild card. You’re not me, the quiet new girl, overwhelmed by everything that’s happened. The heiress who’d be thrilled and starstruck to win.”
“Uh, can’t see you starstruck, Lil. Except with my mom.”
“You know what I mean. If you were Optima, would anyone expect you to toe the party line? To be a team player? You’re Theo Dubois. Brilliant and wild and incredible, but a leader, not a follower. You aren’t someone who’d tell the Optimas you were thrilled to be there, just happy to be chosen.”
He tilts his head. “What are you getting at, Lil?”
“I don’t believe last night was a random attack.
Isolde being hurt instead of me wasn’t a mistake.
Her identifying you wasn’t an error. She was supposed to do that.
Something about her attacker was supposed to make her blame you, only she knows you well enough that she rescinded the accusation quickly.
Too quickly maybe? But it didn’t matter. It gave someone fodder.”
“Fodder to…?” He blinks. “Remove me from the running?”
“Who’s your main competitor? Yes, I know Cosmo is technically in the running, but we both know your only real competitor is the new girl.
The quiet one. The one they expect really would just be thrilled to be chosen.
I was clear about that in my conference call.
How honored I was. How I could only dream of learning from the best. The starstruck billionaire heiress to a massive corporation. ”
He blinks. Then he whispers, “That’s why the guy went for Isolde. You got hurt, but only because you fought back.”
“And all I have is a scratch, no stitches required. The target wasn’t Isolde herself. It was anyone found alone with me. Except you.”
“Because I was the real target.”
—
It’s after ten, but following that conversation with Theo, I really need to talk to Maddox. The two of us are in the clubhouse, Theo having decided that, all things considered, he really shouldn’t be AWOL from the house.
The conversation is also easier without Theo. I can tell Maddox that Theo is out of the Optima competition, and he can explode, and then we can both rant about how unfair it is.
When I tell Maddox my theory, his reaction is as expected.
“Fuck,” he says, before grabbing one of Theo’s empty beer cans and snarling “Fuck!” again as he whips it at the wall.
The can pings off and bounces along the floor.
“Too bad they aren’t bottles,” I say. “That was distinctly unsatisfying.”
“Yeah, well, better than putting my fist through the wall.”
“If you feel any temptation to do that, tell me. I’ll find you bottles.”
He slings an arm over my shoulders and pulls me against his side, kissing the top of my head. “You’re damn well perfect, Chamberlain. I ever tell you that?”
I make a face. “If I were perfect, I’d have seen last night’s setup right away.”
“How?” He waves off my answer. “You’re perfect. Accept it. Move on.”
“I’m also the perfect patsy.”
“Yeah, you kinda are. In theory, that is. In reality?” He smiles, and it’s as feral as Theo’s all-teeth grin.
“I would love to see them try pushing you around. To them, though, you are the perfect cog for their machine. If Theo is out of the race, then you’ll be our class’s Optima.
The seventeen-year-old heiress to a multibillion-dollar corporation.
Raised in the outside world, unprepared for their survival-of-the-nastiest jungle.
A good girl who’s never been in a lick of trouble—and don’t tell me you have, because if there’s a single blemish on your record, Chamberlain, it’s for keeping a library book out past the due date. ”
“Take that back,” I say. “I’ve never needed two weeks to read a book.”
He pulls me in for another kiss. Then he steers me over to sit on the loveseat. He perches half sideways, one foot up on the cushion, one on the floor. Then he pulls me to lie back on him, his arms around me.
I stare up at the ceiling, thinking. Then I say, “So who’s behind this?”
“No idea. The Optimas?” He considers and shakes his head.
“It can’t be all of them, or they could just vote Theo out, no reason required.
Is it one person in the Optimas? Or someone who benefits from the Optimas?
Someone who benefits from you being chosen instead of Theo?
Someone who just doesn’t want Theo there?
We need to start compiling lists, but I’m afraid they won’t be short. ”
“Or exhaustive, since we have no allies in the Optimas to help us understand the internal politics.” I look at him. “Right?”
He’s quiet, then he says, softly, “My mom’s not an ally, Lili.”
“I never asked.”
“I know, but I’m saying it up front. If I were in the running, she’d fight tooth and nail to get me selected.
She doesn’t give a shit about Theo. Never has.
He’s ‘not serious’ and ‘a little much, don’t you think?
’ Asking for your sake wouldn’t be much better.
She should be thrilled that I’m happy, but she’d just be hiring PIs to make sure you’re good enough for her baby boy. ”
“And if Theo Dubois isn’t good enough to be your friend, no one is good enough to be your girlfriend.”
“Yeah. Which proves that my mother is seriously deluded.”
I tilt my head back to look up at him. “I don’t know. I think you deserve the best, too.”
“You’re just weird, Chamberlain. I don’t hold it against you. Also? As far as I’m concerned, I have the best. In both of you.”
I twist around, and we kiss for a few minutes. Then I settle back against him, and we sink into silence and thought until I say, very carefully, “Annette was a scholarship student.”
“Hmm?”
“Annette Donleavy. My mom’s friend who died in the car crash. According to the Lilith records, she was the main contender for Optima. But according to the Optimas, it was my mother, who didn’t seem to be actually running.”
I listen to him breathing as I hold my own breath, waiting for him to tell me I’m reaching.
“Annette was a scholarship student?” he says.
I nod.
“They’d never have made her an Optima,” he says. “She doesn’t have any connections, so she wouldn’t bring anything to the group.”
“Whereas my mom was a Chamberlain. Heir to a massive corporation, from a family that’s been at Westdale from the start. From our point of view—the student view—getting into the Optimas is a huge honor and boon to our careers. What we’re forgetting is that it also matters to them.”
“To the Optimas. It matters who gets in, because if it’s someone like you or your mom, that’s useful. Annette wouldn’t help them at all.”
“And Theo would be more trouble than his connections are worth, since they already get those connections through his dad who—unlike my grandparents—is an active member.”
More quiet breathing, in and out, his chest rising and falling beneath my head.
“They wouldn’t dare kill Theo,” he says. “While Bernard and Theo aren’t close, Bernard would care about losing his only child. And Trinity would go ballistic. She’d bankrupt herself hiring investigators to be sure any accident was definitely an accident.”
“Agreed. They could frame Theo, though. Force him out. But why not just do that to Annette?”
“It’d have looked bad, booting a scholarship kid from the race. Theo will go quietly—his dad will make sure of it. And Trinity doesn’t like the Optimas. She’ll be secretly relieved he’s out of the running so his dad doesn’t see him as competition there, too.”
“So we agree it’s a possibility? That someone killed Annette to get her out of the race?”
“A possibility, yes, and—” He stops suddenly, and his breath comes faster. “Jenna.” Maddox swallows. “No, we’ve already established there was no connection between her and the Optimas. She wasn’t in the running.”
More deep breathing, as if calming himself, before he says, “Jenna doesn’t need to be connected. She did go to parties. She did do drugs. Her death was an actual accident. But the other two? What happened to Annette and what happened to Isolde?”
Not accidents? That’s what I need to find out.