21. Aria
21
ARIA
I glared at the back of Tristan’s head, pushing aside the hollow feeling that had been there ever since that night at the manor. Up at the front of the classroom, Professor Watkins spoke animatedly about revision plans, but my mind was drifting.
That night… Tristan had finally come back to the party and drawn me aside. He’d told me that his grandfather had more or less confirmed what we’d found in those missing pages—that my great-uncle had been taking part in a secret society initiation ritual, climbing the bell tower, when he’d fallen. He’d also told me that his grandfather was the one my great-uncle had been tutoring—or one of the students he’d been tutoring, at least, and he’d been there with my great-uncle for his initiation.
Aside from Tristan’s brief summary, he’d been uncharacteristically quiet, and after he’d updated me, he’d disappeared. I hadn’t seen him again that night, not even with his friends. Ever since we’d come back to school, it felt as if he was avoiding me. In fact, it was more than avoiding. He’d been acting as if I didn’t exist.
I didn’t care.
I shouldn’t care.
I didn’t want to care.
I cared, and I hated him for making me care.
We were in our politics lesson, and he hadn’t even attempted to sit next to me. He’d entered the room without even bothering to spare me a glance and taken a seat in the front of the classroom.
The chair next to mine remained empty.
Quinn looked straight ahead, her eyes hidden by huge sunglasses as she gazed across the field to where the lacrosse team were warming up. Her elbow nudged mine discreetly. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Why was I here? Why had I allowed Quinn to drag me to lacrosse practice? Now I couldn’t take my eyes off fucking Tristan Smith-Chamberlain, just like the cluster of giggling girls a little further down from where we were standing.
“Aria.”
“Quinn.”
She sighed. “You know you can trust me, right?”
I adjusted my own shades, resting my arms on the barrier that separated us from the field. “I know.”
“I’m worried about you,” she admitted quietly. “You’ve been…quiet since the manor. Did something happen?”
“Nothing happened.” When she turned to look at me, sliding her sunglasses onto the top of her head so I could meet her gaze, I gave in. I kept my own sunglasses on, though. I needed that barrier. “Oh, okay. Something happened. Me and Tristan went snooping in his grandfather’s rooms. We found the missing pages of the notebook.”
Quinn nodded. “Roman said. I mean, he didn’t tell me anything really. He said he didn’t know much himself. Just that the pages had confirmed what we already knew, and they mentioned the initiation ritual. And he said that the society was disbanded after…after the accident.”
“Yeah. That was it, really. We found the pages, and then Tristan’s grandfather caught us. I was scared, Quinn. I didn’t think I would be, but seeing him there just made it all seem real.”
“I can’t even imagine. What happened when he found you?”
“Tristan made an excuse for why we were there, and I ended up leaving them alone. I went back to the party, and a little bit later, Tristan showed up again.”
“Right.” She nodded. “That was when we were dancing together with Elena?”
“Yeah. When I left you both to get a drink, he found me again.He just… After he told me what his grandfather had said, we agreed to draw a line under it all. There’s no point in dragging up the past anymore. We have our answers, the whole thing is clearly upsetting for the people involved, and so that’s it. Done.”
“Done,” Quinn echoed, her mouth turning down.
“Done. There’s no reason for us to spend time together anymore outside of a group situation. He’s…well, he’s Tristan, and I’m me, and we hate each other.”
“Aria.”
“Don’t.” My voice wobbled, and I hated that Tristan could affect me like this. We meant nothing to each other. We’d been thrown together by circumstance, a temporary blip in our antagonistic relationship, never to be repeated.
“Okay,” she said softly. On the field, the whistle blew, and I watched as Tristan jogged over to the cluster of girls, all muddy and sweaty in his lacrosse jersey. He removed his helmet, grinning at the swooning girls, and I spun away so fast I felt dizzy.
“I know Elena couldn’t be here today because she had a date with Knox’s mum and little sister at the dessert cafe in town, and I don’t want to leave you alone, but I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Aria…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to come. I thought…I thought there was something between you and Tristan…”
When her voice trailed off, I slowly turned back around, following her gaze to where Tristan was leaning on the railing, his helmet dangling from his fingertips as he flirted with the girls. He never even glanced our way.
“No,” I said, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. “There has never been, and will never be, anything between me and Tristan.”
“If you want to leave, I don’t mind. I would have never asked you to come if I’d realised.”
“It’s okay. Like I said, there’s nothing between us. He means nothing to me. Come on, Quinn. The golden boy of Hatherley Hall? The arrogant man who gets any single girl he wants with a snap of his fingers and has no interest in settling down? He’s everything I detest in a man, and he’s my godbrother.”
“This is such a mess. For what it’s worth, I think the two of you could be good together, but I also think you’re both incredibly stubborn, and any relationship between you would require?—”
“No. Please don’t bring it up again. There is no relationship, and there never will be.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Quinn stepped back from the railing, holding up her hands. Roman chose that moment to jog over, stealing a kiss, and I busied myself with my phone while they reacquainted themselves with each other’s tonsils.
Roman pulled away from his girlfriend long enough to address me. “Thanks for coming. Tristan’s been a fucking nightmare this week.”
“What would any of that have to do with me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Like you don’t know.”
I really didn’t know.
“Roman.” Quinn pointedly cleared her throat.
“He, uh, I know he’s happy you’re here,” he muttered. Shooting a glance at his friend, he winced.
I followed his gaze to see—surprise, surprise, Tristan still flirting with the girls. One of them was even squeezing his bicep. “Yeah, really looks like it.” I fucking hated this jealousy. Why should I care what he was doing or who he was doing?
“He’s confused.”
I’d had enough. Bending down, I scooped up my bag from the grass, swinging it over my shoulder. “Okay, well, he can be confused on his own because I’m not interested.” I turned to Quinn. “Come and find me when you’re ready. I’m gonna go and—” I spun around, trying to find a distraction. “—watch the tennis players.”
Her voice faded behind me as I stalked across the grounds, away from the lacrosse pitch. “Tennis? Since when do you like tennis?”
Over by the tennis courts, I placed my school blazer down on the grass as a makeshift blanket and sat down facing the courts with my back to the lacrosse field. Stretching my legs out in front of me, I basked in the feel of the warm sun on my bare skin, pretending to watch the doubles game happening in front of me. Tennis was a sport I’d never had much interest in—mostly because I’d never shown any aptitude for it—and Quinn was well aware of that fact. I was pretty sure she understood why I had to escape, though.
I was right. Less than ten minutes later, a shadow fell across my legs, and then Quinn lowered herself to the grass next to me.
“I really am sorry.” She leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder.
“It’s okay. I’m not angry with you. I just wish I’d never found that box in the first place. All it’s done is upset people and complicate our lives.” Plucking at the blades of grass beneath my fingers, I sighed. “I want to pretend it never happened.”
“Pretend what never happened?”
“Yeah. That.”
She reached out and squeezed my hand. “This will all be over soon. Our final ever term at Hatherley Hall is coming to an end. Soon, we’ll be deep in exam prep, and then after our exams, we’ll be finished forever. You won’t have to see Tristan ever again.” After a pause, she added, “I guess you’ll probably see him or hear about him occasionally, with his parents being your godparents. But it won’t be like it is now, stuck in the same place day after day with no escape.”
I knew she was just trying to make me feel better, so why did her words hurt so much?