Chapter Thirteen
Ihide away in a small guest bathroom after my encounter with Peter and Whitney, hating how shaky they made me feel.
Our interaction couldn’t have lasted more than a minute or two, but it replays in my mind a dozen times while I’m changing into a black bathing suit I borrowed from Sophia.
Whitney was perfectly lovely despite Peter acting like his normal, sour self.
I guess I can understand why he was upset.
His so-called friends are treating him differently after what happened with Isla and her best friend.
And while that sucks, I get why people suspect Isla in Emily’s murder.
Right now, the evidence points to the two of them being alone on that cliffside before Emily died.
Without any proof to the contrary, what are people supposed to believe?
Maybe if dear old Peter wasn’t such an asshole all the time, people would be kinder to him. Though come to think of it, I have no idea how he treats other people. He might be a veritable Santa Claus to everyone who isn’t his estranged daughter.
Pushing all thoughts of my father aside, I focus on the information Whitney provided.
Daphne is related to George. George was involved with my mother.
Daphne is Freddie Pembroke’s mother. Both Mr. and Mrs. Pembroke seem to know Connor pretty well, maybe because Mr. Wells worked for the Lumateg Group?
The Pembrokes seemed really supportive of Connor earlier tonight, but the call I overheard between Headmaster Harrington and the mysterious William proves that someone wants Connor out of the picture.
I need to pump Connor for more information, but I can’t be obvious about it.
He went on the defensive when I mentioned the llamas last night, and he was drunk as a skunk then.
Sober Connor might have an even lower tolerance for my snooping. And speaking of Connor …
He’s an excellent kisser—and an excellent distraction. I should focus on the task at hand, and instead, I’m thinking about when we can find some alone time again.
Nice job, Billie. Instead of figuring out who tried to unalive Isla, you’re worrying about the next time you get to shove your tongue down some hot boy’s throat. A-plus sister behavior.
My conscience puts my hormones in a time-out to think about what they’ve done.
After I’ve washed my hands and run my fingers through my hair, I march out of the bathroom and walk through the house like I know where I’m going. I’m constantly searching everyone’s faces in the hope that one of them will be Connor, but he’s nowhere to be found.
“Belinda! There you are!” Sophia pops up in front of me as if by magic. Her eyes are a little glassy, and there’s a flute of something bubbly in her hand. “Where have you been? Having a snog with Connor?” My face gets hot, and Sophia gapes at me. “You were having a snog with him, weren’t you?”
I grab hold of her arm and steer her away from the cluster of people who are probably listening in on our conversation. “Maybe.”
“You are so bad.” Sophia is grinning. I get the sense she doesn’t think I’m bad at all. “How was it?”
“Magical.” My smile is small, and I let myself forget what my real intentions are at Wickham. For this moment at least, I’m just going to be a regular teenage girl. “But don’t tell anyone.”
“I would never.” She makes an X with her index finger across her chest before taking a sip from her glass. “I think I’m tipsy.”
“Is your dad here?”
“Um.” She presses her lips together and glances about the room, her eyes wide when they meet mine. “Probably?”
“Sophia!” I grab her arm again, my grip gentle. “We need to sober you up.”
“What we need,” she says, her voice sing-songing in a way that could only sound like music to the inebriated, “is to go to the hot tub. He’d never come out there.
” She grins and starts walking, leaving me no choice but to keep up with her.
“I saw Connor outside, and I asked him where you were. He said he didn’t know and requested that I go find you. ”
My skin warms. “Isn’t that sweet?”
“Yes, it is. And Connor is never sweet, so lucky you.” Sophia comes to a stop. “Oh no, there’s my dad!”
We turn in the opposite direction and push through the crowd, Sophia squealing every time she bumps into someone and always offering a high-pitched, “So sorry!”
I thought she didn’t want her father to see her, and instead she’s making a complete spectacle of herself.
I blame the alcohol. It’s obvious she doesn’t know how to manage her liquor, and there’s something oddly reassuring about that.
Somehow, while I’m trapped in the middle of the most important lie of my life, I’ve managed to find a genuinely good, sweet person to call my friend.
It’s like discovering a fluffy kitten in a den of vipers.
We eventually make our way outside, walking past a massive pool and slowing our pace as we approach the hot tub, which is currently filled to the brim with Wickham students.
Including Connor.
He spots me immediately, a slow smile curving his lips as he raises his hand.
My eyes trace the parts of him I can see over the surface of the water, the skin of his shoulders and chest glistening with steam.
An intrusive thought about running my tongue across his collar bones battles to take center stage in my brain.
“Belinda! Sophia! Over here.” Connor’s eyes crinkle a little at the corners, and I wonder if we’re both thinking of how ridiculous it is for him to call me Belinda. Then again, on this side of the world, I’m only Billie to him. I refuse to admit how much I like the idea of that.
“Hey everyone.” Sophia greets the crowd with a little wave when we come to a stop in front of the hot tub. The water bubbles and froths, the rush of it adding a layer of sound that thrums in my ears.
There’s Connor, of course. Priya and Abigail, looking remarkably put together for two girls who were very recently attached at the mouth. Freddie, Julian, and Arlo.
“Join us, ladies.” Freddie stretches his arms out alongside the edge of the hot tub, shoving Arlo and Julian away from him. “I’ve got spaces for you both.”
Sophia and I share a look. I can feel Connor watching me, and when I catch his gaze, he looks annoyed. By Freddie?
Hopefully not by me.
“We need to change into our swimsuits first,” Sophia announces.
What? “No we do—”
“Pool house is right over there.” Freddie points. “Don’t dawdle, girls.”
Sophia drags me over to the pool house and locks the door once we’re inside.
“We already have our swimsuits on,” I remind her. How drunk is she?
“Oh, I know. I just didn’t want to start stripping with everyone watching. So awkward. Did you see the way Abigail and Priya were glaring at us? We’re clearly not welcome.” Sophia giggles as she takes off her clothes, revealing the white bikini underneath.
Insecurity floats through me at seeing Sophia.
Her skin is still golden from the recent “quick holiday to Ibiza” she mentioned last night, and her body is toned thanks to the personal trainer she and her mom meet with twice a week.
The closest I get to personal training with Mom is when I haul her off the floor when she passes out.
All to say, I’m super pale and a little flabby in places Sophia definitely is not and OMG, this feels like a moment of crisis.
“Belinda, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
I snap my lips shut and shake my head, desperate to act like nothing is bothering me. Belinda isn’t the kind of girl who would compare herself to others. She would walk naked through a crowd with her head held high. Climbing into a hot tub in the dark should be no big deal. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” Sophia frowns.
“Just the usual swimsuit insecurities.” With a dramatic sigh, I tug off the borrowed skirt and sweater and fold them, then set the clothes on the nearby counter. “I mean, look at me.”
“You look great.”
That would be Sophia’s automatic response no matter what. “If you say so.”
“Seriously, Belinda.” She grabs hold of my shoulders and gives them a gentle shake.
Her tone is more sober than it was just minutes ago, and I wonder how much of her goofy drunkenness was just leaning into the fun of a little buzz.
“There’s no need for any self-pity at the moment.
You were kissing Connor Wells not thirty minutes ago, and we all know he’s the hottest boy at Wickham. ”
“Is he?” My voice is weak. There are plenty of good-looking guys at Wickham. Several of them are currently sitting in the hot tub.
But no one makes me feel fluttery and breathless like Connor.
“Yes. He is.” Sophia’s voice is firm. “Now let’s go join them. And make sure you sit next to Connor.”
I glance down at the black one-piece I’m wearing. It’s not exciting, but maybe it’s classic. Sophia is right. I don’t look terrible.
Connor certainly didn’t have any complaints.
We leave the pool house and practically run to the hot tub, desperate to get warm, since there’s a chill in the air. The moment we’re in the water, I feel a gentle tug on my hand under the surface.
It’s Connor pulling me toward him, and I go willingly. Sophia is close behind me, and I end up sitting between them. My new bestie and my crush.
Yikes. Listen to me. I sound like I’m living out my every teen fantasy. Nothing like this would ever happen to me back home. For starters, no one I know owns a hot tub, and it’s not like I was ever getting invited to parties. I always had to work.
“Nice suit, Belinda.” Abigail’s snide tone makes me want to smack her, but instead I flash her a petty smile.
“Gee thanks. It’s Sophia’s.”
Abigail sneers, taking the three of us in. “What an odd little group you make. Is this what you’ve resorted to, Connor? Hanging out with the snitch and the new girl?”