51. Kai
Chapter 51
Kai
This tux is annoying the shit out of me and I’ve only been wearing it for like an hour. It’s not the fabric. That’s soft enough. But everything’s just too tight. The collar, the stupid cum-fucking-whatever-band around my waist, the cuffs, the goddamn collar.
At least the food’s good. I’ve had seven mini burgers and already I’m eyeing a platinum-blonde sorority girl heading my way with another tray of appetizers.
She catches me looking at her and smiles as she veers my way.
“Hey, handsome,” she purrs, her black dress shimmering as she shifts her hips side to side. “Like what you see?”
“Depends.” I scan the tray. “You got any of those tiny little burgers?”
She laughs like she thinks I’m joking, and her expression turns sour when she realizes I’m not.
“Jerk,” she snaps, walking away with stiff legs that have nothing to do with her ten-inch heels.
Time to dust off that old rumor about my Cambridge girlfriend. Seems people around here have forgotten about her.
Old news is dead news.
Yeah, Kruger, don’t I know it.
I slide a finger behind my collar, trying to pull it away from my neck.
I’m not into all this fancy shit.
I like nice clothes, because anything’s better than the patched, threadbare hand-me-downs I got most of my time growing up. But this tux is a fucking nightmare.
And places like this country club don’t get me hard.
It’s the wallpaper.
You couldn’t pay me to walk through this place on acid. If they put this stuff on dollar bills, counterfeiters will be fuming.
Maybe that’s why they have it. It reminds them of money.
It’s the same shade of green.
Luckily there are so many people jammed into this ballroom, it’s hard to see the walls. But it’s unavoidable on the way to the restroom, and I’m going to need to go soon after all this champagne.
The music sucks. Who still listens to Chopin?
“Hey, man. Your brother’s looking for you.”
I turn to Austin, sipping at my champagne glass. Don’t like this bubbly shit either, but some alcohol is better than none alcohol.
“Tell him you couldn’t find me.”
“It’s about the party.”
“Fuck.” I drain the awful champagne and hand Austin the glass. “Where is he?”
“Out front by the donation boxes.”
Damn. That’s a lot of wallpaper to walk past.
But I grit my teeth and I bear it, because the only reason I’m here is because of the party, and if it’s gone belly up, then I’m out of here.
Not that I really want to go back to my dorm room, either.
Since last night, I’ve been staring at Haven’s Activity Log, trying to get myself to open it. I keep moving it around, wishing in some weird way that I’d drop it and it would just flip open to a page, and I’d be forced to read it.
Which is pathetic, because of course I want to read it.
That’s the whole reason I took it.
But as soon as I brought it into my room and set it down on the corner of my bed, I just stared at it.
Because it’s Pandora’s Box.
Once I read what’s in there, there’s no forgetting what it says.
I’m in there.
But I don’t know how bad it is. If she named me. If she went into detail.
So maybe I didn’t take it to read it, but to make sure it never got to Rooke. I’d be expelled, my future torn out of my hands before I even got a chance to hold it.
I press my finger and thumb to my eyelids, massaging them. Shouldn’t have smoked all that weed before I got here. Should have remembered to put some eyedrops in my pocket.
It’s even brighter out here than it was in the ballroom. Parties shouldn’t be this well lit. It feels like an interrogation room.
And why the fuck is it so crowded?
Every living Hillsider must be at this country club tonight because I keep twisting to avoid crashing into couples as they stream through the entrance. And that makes my clothes wrap even tighter around me. How the hell am I supposed to enjoy myself when I feel claustrophobic in my own skin?
Ezra gives me a double take and steps away from the donation box he was standing beside.
Huh. Seems like Haven’s little pet project took off. Of the three donation boxes out here, only one of them is piled high. Cat food. Dog food.
They’ve even donated chew toys, collars, and leashes.
Ezra’s lips are curled into a smile, but the rest of his face is set in stone.
“Took you long enough,” he says, clapping a hand on my shoulder like we’re the biggest fucking buddies. I leave it there, because he gets really annoyed when I fend off his fake PDA.
He loves to pretend we don’t hate each other.
Kinda reminds me of someone else I know.
“What is it?”
“Stand here and smile. When someone drops something in a box, tell them thanks. And when they’re done coming in, bring the donation boxes around the back.”
“Thought that was your job.”
“My job is making sure things run smoothly. And right now, I’ve got a fucking problem to sort out.”
I grimace as I stare at the towns folk coming through the door, shoving a hand under the navy blue band around my waist. It was that, or gold. “Then let me deal with that. My face can’t handle all that bullshit smiling like yours can.”
If he’s offended, he doesn’t show it. “If you could have dealt with this problem, it wouldn’t be a fucking problem anymore.”
I’m frowning as I whip my head around to glare at him. “The fuck you on about?”
He dusts the sleeves of his tux and tugs them straight, his brown eyes taking their sweet time flicking up to meet mine. “You said she was gone.”
“Sh—Haven?” My heart seizes up for a moment before blood pumps again. “I’m working on it.”
“Time’s up, bro.” Ezra rolls the word off his tongue with so much disdain, he might as well have called me a loser. “You’ve had weeks.” He snorts. “Telling me she won’t dare set foot in Hillside again. And what the fuck did I just see?”
“She was at school today? I thought she didn’t have classes on a Friday?”
He rolls his eyes like he can’t believe he’s trying to explain something to a dipshit like me. “Here, Kai. Here. She just strutted past me like she fucking owns the place.” Casting a quick glance at the briefly empty entrance, he grabs the front of my tux in a fist and slams me against the nearest wall.
And when I see the look in his eyes, I’m kinda wishing the wallpaper’s going to swallow me.
“You’ve been fucking her, haven’t you?”
My voice hitches with panic. “Wh-What?”
Ezra’s eyes glitter with malice as he leans in, his fist pushing so hard against my sternum I’m struggling to breathe.
“You’re seriously going to drag our name through the mud just so you can rail some slut from Riverside?” He scans my face, contempt dripping from every word. “I don’t know what fucking spell that witch’s pussy cast on you when you were a kid, but you’d better snap the fuck out of it.”
I grunt in the pain as Ezra presses away from me with a shove to my chest. He runs a hand over his hair, sliding a strand of hair that escaped his slicked back faux hawk.
He gives my cheek a hard pat, forcing a smile as sharp as a fucking scalpel.
“I’ll handle this, just like I handle all your fuck ups.”
He seizes my shoulder and swings me to the door, where a couple stand, trying to decide which bins to put their donations into.
“Smile like you mean it, little brother.”
He’s said that to me a thousand times over the years. After he’d pinch me, bite me, kick me until I was blue and purple.
Didn’t hurt as much back then as it does now, even though, this time, the pain is still to come.
Even though, this time, it won’t be me in the crosshairs.
I walk up to the entrance, giving the couple a shaky smile and motioning to the canned food box. They grin at me, getting whatever shot of dopamine they came here for, and I step aside so they can go to the ballroom.
My phone is in my hand a second later, trembling as I look up Haven’s number.
I got it from Nora in exchange for some candy bars. It was worth every Mars Bar.
But I’ve been too spineless to message Haven, to call her. I keep thinking it would leave a trail for someone to follow. Evidence they can use against me.
Well, shit’s about to go down, and she needs to know.
Even if it means incriminating myself.