Six Months Later #2
“I did,” Ian admits. “But it’s not like I had a choice in whether to participate.
She made sure of that. I know it might be hard to believe that I lied about what I knew to protect you…
but I swear that’s what I thought I was doing.
My whole life has been this messed-up game.
Everything she did at Luminary, all the courses and tests and punishments, she tried them out on me first. For the past four years, everything in my life has been a manipulation, or a trick, or a test.” He hesitates and then adds, his voice a little lower, “It took me a long time to figure out that you were the real thing, Lia.”
“The things a guy will say to get some under-the-bra action,” I murmur.
Ian’s eyebrows go up and his voice sounds a little strained as he says, “Is that…really on the table?”
I can’t help it. I crack a smile.
Ian stares at me for another moment, something complicated happening behind his eyes. And then he says, “C’mon…you have to know you mean more to me than that.”
I feel heat rise in my cheeks. It’s too much emotion, too much everything. And because I’m me and I can’t deal with emotion, I laugh and say, “So, what are you saying? You’re hoping to get to third?”
“I’m saying that I’m falling for you.” Ian swallows, a muscle in his jaw tensing. “I know you don’t feel the same way, maybe you never did. But I need you to know.”
I open my mouth, then close it again. I’m not immediately sure how to answer.
No one’s ever said anything like that to me before.
And this is Ian St. Clair, who was a dick until like ten seconds ago, who wears ties and matching socks unironically, who lied to me and made Scarlett’s life a living hell, but who also made some parts of it—just a few—kind of incredible.
Who I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen for, too.
But I’m not the kind of person who can say any of that out loud, so instead, I sputter, “You know people don’t just go around saying stuff like that.”
Ian’s still looking at me, but something in his expression shifts. He doesn’t seem nervous anymore. Now he seems amused. “Maybe they should,” he murmurs. He takes a step closer to me. I don’t back away.
“How do you expect me to respond?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not proposing marriage, Michaels. I just told you that I like you. Humans do occasionally like each other.”
“How do you know anything about human emotions? Did you read about them in a book?”
“Why? Would you like to borrow it?” He touches my arm with the tips of his fingers, sending a trail of heat all through my skin. I shiver.
“I have a college interview any minute,” I say. “And I’m trying to look respectable. Can you try not to get me all hot and bothered?”
The corner of his lip curls. “All I heard was that I get you hot and bothered.”
“I’m serious. Maybe…take a walk around the block or something? I need to cool down.”
“Okay, I can do that.” Ian’s smiling now. “But can we go somewhere when you’re done? Talk?”
I have to bite the corner of my lips to keep from smiling back at him. “Talk,” I say. “Yeah. We could do that.”
Ian’s gaze drops to my mouth, then moves back up to my eyes, and he raises an eyebrow, almost like he’s asking a question. If we were anywhere else in the world, I’d push him against the wall and—
“You know,” he says, interrupting my thoughts, “I should probably cool down, too.” He turns and starts toward the door.
Then stops. “Actually…there’s something else.
” He takes a breath and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket.
“I’ve been carrying this around for a while now, hoping I’d run into you. ”
He takes out a slip of paper and hands it to me.
I stare, suspicious. “What’s that?”
“I’ve…been looking into my parents for the last few months. My real parents, Cynthia and Eli Michaels? It’s been a lot, but I wanted to know where I came from. And it occurred to me that you might want that, too.”
I stare at him, confused.
“A few years ago, back when I still thought Marsha Collins was my birth mother, I did some digging. She didn’t put my—” He pauses, corrects himself.
“I mean, your biological father on the birth certificate. But I tracked him down.” He gestures to the slip of paper.
“This is his name, if you’re interested.
From what I’ve been able to figure out from looking online, he seems like a really decent person. ”
I take the paper from him, stunned. I have no idea what to say. “Ian…this might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
Ian leans in and kisses me lightly on the temple. “You deserve to know where you come from,” he tells me. “Good luck with your interview.” He starts toward the door again.
“Do you still see her?” I ask, before he can head out the door. “Lynn?”
Ian shakes his head. “I turned eighteen last week. Legally, she has no control over me anymore.”
“Good,” I tell him. “I’m glad she’s out of your life.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Ian smiles. “I’ll see you after your interview.”
It isn’t until I’m walking out of the school after the interview is over that I remember the link Zo texted me. I lean against the wall just outside the admissions building to fish my phone out of my skirt, click—
All the oxygen leaves my body in a whoosh.
Déjà vu.
The web page on my phone screen looks exactly like the one I first saw months ago. The same bright colors. The exact same crest.
But that’s not what I’m looking at. No, my gaze is drawn to a gallery of photos below.
The first shows Rani leaning against a tree, smiling at the camera.
His hair’s different, no more shaved sides and ponytail.
Now it’s shaped into a respectable crew cut, like he’s a senator’s kid.
He’s got on a long-sleeved white T-shirt that hides most of his tattoos, and over that, he’s layered the exact same navy-blue polo shirt that all the TAs at Luminary wore.
Only his doesn’t say Luminary. It says Havenridge.
I shift my gaze to the block of text on the top of the page and read:
Havenridge Institute of Learning is an innovative new school that aims to address the current limitations of the American educational system. Here, outdated conventions are challenged and reimagined.
Someone clears their throat, and when I look up, I see Hank standing outside. “Hey, Chaotic Good,” he calls over to me.
“Are you checking up on me?” I ask.
“There’ve been a concerningly low number of break-ins. I got worried,” he says. Then, narrowing his eyes, he adds, “What’s up, kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I glance back down at my phone. Rani stares out from the screen, and his freaky fixed smile is weird enough to make my skin crawl. Is Mando there with him? I wonder. And what about all the other kids who disappeared? Is there a chance they’re still okay?
I take a deep breath and look back up at Hank. “Do you have your car here?”
Hank frowns. “I’m scared to answer that.”
“Don’t be scared.” I flash him my sweetest “I swear I’m not planning another jailbreak” smile and show him my phone screen. “I just need a ride to this Havenridge place. I want to say hi to an old friend.”