Chapter 12 #2
Instead, I’m forced to admit that I’m letting my father slowly melt away any ounce of humanity I have left in exchange for the chance to what?
Attend a school of fractured rich kids with big wallets but broken souls?
At least I know after all is said and done we’ll have that in common.
I came here naive, wanting to be one of them and I’m sure as hell leaving that way.
Dad made sure of that, forcing me to choke her with the same web that Will’s currently strangled in.
“Done.” He slides my phone back across the booth, amusement lighting his eyes, almost distracting from his battered face.
“What’s done?” I groan, flicking my phone open only to find out Will agreed to taking Grant—not even Sloane, but her brother—to a party tonight.
Relief ebbs my mounting anxiety as I slip my cell into my pocket, and my mind quiets slightly at the knowledge that I won’t have to spill the secrets of both Will and Sloane in a single day.
“A date with her brother is your version of done? I thought you said to trust you. ” I take a sip of my coffee, letting mock frustration ring in my tone.
“Cheers,” he starts, raising his mug of vodka and orange juice jovially, “to the last person in Boston to trust me.” His smile is hollow as he swallows his screwdriver in one go.
I wish I could help him, I mean really help him. Introduce him to the life I had before coming here, something quieter, easier, another option.
My phone buzzes again, Sloane’s now saved contact, courtesy of Will, flashing before me.
Sloane
don’t worry i’ll be there too!
The address Sloane sent me leads deep into the woods. I've been to a few keggers out here but typically try to stay a little closer to campus.
“You bringin’ me out here to murder me, Spellman?” Grant asks, his gaze remains hard on the road.
“Ah, you caught me. Guess we have to turn around,” I joke but he, of course, doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even crack a smile. “Tough crowd,” I mumble under my breath.
It’s pitch black out here, the presence of street lights a distant memory as we make the trek to what Sloane called the party of the year.
I make a sharp turn, and my headlights finally land on a string of cars parked off the road that lead to the long rolling driveway of someone's vacation home, I assume.
I parallel park, thankful to get out of the silent car.
The door swings open to unveil the steady bumping of speakers, letting me know we are in the right place.
“You ready?”
Grant just nods, tight lipped and I sigh.
I know the guy hates Will and I probably didn’t earn any points when I agreed to give him a ride to the gala last night and showed up with Will in the passenger seat.
I should’ve seen their tense car conversation, in such close quarters, from a mile away.
But I didn’t, because when any of the guys need a favor, I don’t even blink.
Still—not one smile, laugh or conversation the entire drive to this damn party. It was brutal.
Inside it’s like the entire campus has shifted into this singular house.
I look around the sea of familiar faces, most of which are already trashed.
Grant’s arms are crossed and his mouth’s set in a line.
I can’t help but feel bad for the guy. I got the idea that maybe this was about Gen when Sloane texted me right before I left double checking that Will was out of commission for the evening.
Seeing Grant now though, it’s obvious: the only person who can make a man down and out like this, is a woman.
“Look, I’m trying to make last night up to you. I should’ve told you he was in the car.” I watch Grant’s eyes go from murderous to only a slight promise of violence as he gives me a stiff nod.
“You should’ve.”
“I didn’t realize it was going to be like…
that. The bar with Gen? I thought that was a fluke.
” He stares at the endless sea of our peers filling every crevice of the house and I can tell he’s looking for her.
“Look, this will be a good time. Sloane said you need to get out of your head, anyway. So just try to ha—”
“Why are you talking to Sloane?” Any simmering rage has now been fully brought to a boil at the mere mention of his sister's name.
Don’t tell him I sent you. That and don’t invite Will were her only instructions.
“We’re…friends.” The word feels hollow and wrong in my mouth. “She said you seemed in your head and she said she’d…owe me a favor if I could get you here.”
Grant chuckles beside me and I know how fucking pathetic it sounds the moment I say it.
“You have an interesting definition of friends.” He claps me on the shoulder and for a second it destabilizes me, because he’s right, a friend probably wouldn’t siphon information to their father in exchange for tuition and they sure as hell wouldn’t agree to keep tabs on your every move.
I sigh and as if he can sense my discomfort he finally throws me a bone.
“The least you can do is show me a good time.” He nudges me forward into the pool of bodies and the night ahead.