52. Haven

Chapter 52

Haven

The thin veneer of courage I walked into the gala with just evaporated. Even this gorgeous gown I’m wearing feels flimsy as fuck suddenly.

“I think I’m having a stroke,” I tell Melissa as she drags me down a narrow corridor.

It feels like I’m headed for a public beheading…and it’s my neck on the chopping block.

She flashes me a nervous smile over her shoulder. “You’ll do fine,” she murmurs, but her voice is as unsteady as the hand she uses to guide me. “I really, really thought you knew.”

“No, Melissa!” I hiss. “I had no fucking idea.”

“It’s okay, really. Just…use your imagination.”

I yank my arm out of her grip, and she spins around to face me, her cream-colored gown as flawless and fluid as her makeup and hair.

We tried putting my hair into a French knot. It slid apart like a lemon meringue pie the baker had been too rushed to let set. So Melissa tried to curl it into soft waves…a few of them survived, but they’re heavy on the soft, and barely there on the wave. The little clip she used to drag some of my hair away from my face made the most noticeable effect, but I can feel it sliding too.

This is what happens when hair that’s never been exposed to product is suddenly drowned in shea butter.

Her foundation was too light for my skin tone, but she got rid of the dark smudges under my eyes and found a bronze eyeshadow that really makes my eyes pop.

I’ll never forget the way she stared at me when she came up to me with a pair of diamond earrings and I told her my ears weren’t pierced.

When we climbed into her Aston Martin, I felt great.

Like, on top of the world, fantastic.

My dress was gorgeous. My hair shiny. My face…well, as good as it would ever be, I guess.

Even spotting Ezra at the entrance only made me hold my head that much higher. He’d never liked me, and it was obvious from the way his face stiffened up that nothing had changed.

But I brushed it off.

This?

No way in hell I can brush this off.

In fact, I’m pretty sure I won’t even survive this.

“I’m not doing it.” I shake my head, hoping it will cement my decision. “I refuse.”

“You can’t do that,” she whispers.

As if there’s someone here with us in this creepy hallway.

“Says who?”

“Says the people that gave you the money to come to college.” There’s the briefest little crease between her eyebrows. “You didn’t realize you’d have to be involved in stuff like this if you accepted the grant? They would have notified you.”

“Let me guess,” I say dryly. “My invite got lost in the mail.”

She nods. “Exactly. Or maybe Ted forgot to deliver it.”

Well, fuck.

The nice Korean family living at my old Riverside address must be confused as hell, getting all my mail. Which reminds me, I really have to update my address. At least I can get stuff sent to Gamma Alpha Zeta now.

I hold up my hands. “No, it’s cool. I’ll just get up in front of a hundred million strangers and make up a speech about social inequality.” I lean in. “You know. Using my imagination.”

“I doubt there are more than three hundred people here,” Melissa says, but grudgingly. “Want me to stand next to you?”

“No, it’s fine.”

None of this is her fault. It’s one-hundred percent Haven Lee’s fault.

Should have known there’d be strings attached. I mean, the whole point of charity is so that they can look good in front of other people right? Like, have some kind of moral advantage? When everyone gets to heaven, they’ll have a VIP parking spot.

If I’m going down, it’ll be on my terms.

I tighten my hand on the gold clutch Melissa borrowed me, and stalk down the corridor. She catches up with me a second later.

“Say something smart about how important education is.”

I mouth, ‘how smart’, and then shake my head. “You’re terrible at this.”

The classical music fades, and there’s some scattered applause. All muffled, because of the door up ahead, but I can clearly make out the announcer calling the dean of Agony Hollow College to the stage.

Oh God.

My brain scrambles as I try to think of what the hell I could say up there. Unfortunately, a certain someone with warm brown eyes and the most fucked up mind I’ve ever met keeps interrupting.

And when I finally get him shoved out of my head, it’s all Kai. All Kai, all the time.

Damn it.

My clutch vibrates in my hand. I take out my phone without even thinking about it, glancing down at the screen.

It’s a text from an unknown number.

UNKNOWN

Get out. He’s…

What the hell? I fumble with the phone, unlocking it to read the full message.

UNKNOWN

Get Out. He’s coming for you.

Melissa pushes me between the shoulders. “That’s it, that’s you!” she whisper-shouts, snatching my clutch and my phone from my hand. “Go, go, go!”

It was so dark in the corridor, I hold up a hand to shield my eyes from the bright spotlight on stage. Subconsciously, I’m aware that there are steps in front of me. But my brain and my body obviously had some kind of falling out, because I take the first two steps fine, but my brain imagines a third that isn’t there.

I stomp down on thin air, lose my balance, and take two more stomps forward to catch my balance.

Standing on the front of my skirt.

Tripping.

Sprawling on hands and knees.

The woman who’d been standing near the podium rushes over to me, bending to help me to my feet. She’s wearing a black evening gown, the spotlight sparkling on swirls of intricate embroidery over the bodice.

“You okay, honey?” she asks as she guides me to the center of the stage.

“Tripped,” I manage. Barely.

I’m blushing so hard, so hot, it feels like my face is going to peel off.

“It’s my honor and privilege to introduce Haven Lee, this year’s recipient of the Agony Hollow College Social Change grant.” She starts clapping, and after a pathetic start, the crowd gets a little more enthusiastic.

I guess they were waiting for me to take a pie to the face, and they’re all feeling just a little disappointed.

At least it’s not that intimidating up here as I thought. I can’t even see anyone in the crowd because the spotlight is so damn bright. I quickly pull down my hand when I realize I’m shielding my face again, and grip the sides of the podium.

“Uh, hi.”

The woman leans in. “A little louder, honey.” Then she adjusts the microphone, putting it closer to my mouth.

“Hi.” There’s a screech of feedback that puts a lump in my throat. “Sorry. Uh.”

Great. My mind has gone utterly blank.

Get out.

He’s coming for you.

Sweat prickles at the back of my neck. The podium digs into my fingers where I’ve got the sides gripped white-knuckle tight as I try to work moisture back into my mouth.

“I’d like to thank the academy?” I force a laugh. “Whoops. Wrong speech.”

Silence.

I mean, seriously?

“Okay, I’m going to be honest. I didn’t know I had to give a speech tonight.”

More silence.

“I only found out last night that I was even supposed to be here.”

I lick my lips, swallow.

My eyes are adjusting. I can see the edges of the crowd now, and they’re all staring at me with blank faces.

You know what? Fuck them.

Fuck them all.

“Because I never got the invite.” I let out another laugh, bitter, and it’s easier this time.

“Because I don’t live there anymore. Up until yesterday, I’d been living in my car. And trust me, you can open a little slit in your driver’s side window, but Ted still won’t deliver your mail.”

That gets some laughs, which is fucked, because it wasn’t a joke. Not really. I can’t yell at these people. They’re not responsible for my shitty life. But it feels good getting this off my chest when I’ve been trying to hide every aspect of my life in case someone found out I was a fraud and sent me packing.

“Poverty either breaks you, or it makes you unbreakable. I guess, standing up here—” I glance off to the wings where a nervous Melissa is staring at me with big eyes “—and giving this stupid speech after almost falling flat on my face, proves how unbreakable it’s made me.”

The crowd breaks out in applause.

What the hell? I was being sardonic.

I search the faces I can pick out in the crowd, trying to understand what they find so inspiring about my sad life.

And that’s when I see him.

Kai.

He looks so fucking hot in his tuxedo that my mind goes blank again. That my cheeks flare red. That a tingle starts up between my legs and tries to bury itself deep inside me.

His hand is at his throat, like he’s about to drag his bowtie off and storm the stage. And that just reminds me of how his hands felt wrapped around my neck.

How long did I sit in my car up there at Lookout Point, tracing the marks he left on my skin?

Fuck him too.

“That doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing.”

I drop my head, taking a slow breath in and out.

“It’s like someone’s put me in the cockpit of a Boeing and told me to fly it. And through sheer stubbornness, I’ve gotten it airborne, but now it’s falling, and I have no idea how to stop it.”

The crowd’s silence sucks at me like gravity. The woman beside me, I’m assuming she’s the dean, shifts her feet, her hands clasping a little tighter in front of her, like she wants to interrupt this train-wreck of a speech before I start yelling.

So I make my voice low, calm. Peel my fingers off the podium and stroke them down the wood instead.

Elegant. Graceful.

Everything I’m not.

“I know I don’t belong here. And some of you would probably prefer that I leave. But, with all due respect, you can all just suck it up.” There’s a wave of indignant gasps and huffs, but I ignore them. “Because I’ll never get an opportunity like this again.”

My eyes flick to Kai, and even from up here, I can see his mouth thin into a line. His frown.

Get out.

He’s coming for you.

Someone tried to warn me. Guess they didn’t know it was old news.

Kai’s had it out for me ever since I went from his innocent, na?ve best friend to a trailer trash whore.

“I’m staying.” I lean in closer to the microphone. “And I’m making every second count.”

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