“That a word like ‘conceivable’ even occurs to you in your state.”
“I’m not that drunk. That’d be worrying.”
She laughs. “Oh, man, Knox. Go to bed.”
“Your ears are beautiful.”
“You’re not all there.”
“True. I have never seen such beautiful ears. I like how they stick out. Somehow, that seems ethereal…or…uhm…aesthetic.”
Paisley blinks. “Okay. What can I do to make you go to bed?”
“Bring me to bed.”
“Exactly.” She rolls her eyes. “And I almost found you charming.”
“How could you have?”
She sighs. “Right, I’ll bring you to bed. But I’m not staying.”
“God forbid! What kind ofindecentideas are going through your head, Paisley?”
“My goodness, are you stressful.” She pushes my shoulder and nods toward the stairs. “Get going.”
Paisley does indeed follow and is still there when we reach my room. She crosses her arms over her chest as if uncomfortable with being here and looks around curiously. “Pretty respectable.”
“Always this undertone of surprise.” I slip out of my clothes until I’m just in my boxers, but Paisley pointedly looks in the other direction and acts as if she’s interested in the signed puck on my dresser. She only turns back around once I’m under the sheets.
“Great. Can I leave you alone now?”
“Yeah,” I murmur and notice how sleep is already tugging at my eyes. “Paisley?”
She’s almost out the door. “Yeah?”
“I really do think your ears are beautiful.”
My eyes are already closed but I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Maybe you are actually charming.”
Yeah. Maybe.
23
Turn the Pain into Power
Paisley
Knox’s eyes bore into mine. Well, not really Knox, but a twelve-inch image of him on the front page ofUSA Today. The photo shows him on the slopes, snapping himself into his snowboard, but the look on his face suggests he’d rather attack the person behind the camera. Written in thick red letters above it is the headline:
Knox Winterbottom Loses Sponsors—Because of Her!
Levi is nibbling at his fingernails and keeps on shooting me hesitant glances out of the corners of his eyes. “At least they don’t mention your name,” he says for the fourth time in the last two minutes.
Aaron nods. “For people, it’s just another scandal à la Knox. They’ll have forgotten it by tomorrow.”
I doubt that. For what feels like the hundredth time this morning, I read the article through, stopping at the same place as each and every other time. “I simply don’t get it,” I say, pointing to the sentence: “‘No one knows who she is. But the girlfriend of my cousin’s best friend caught them just a few nights before in a stable in Aspen. It’s said to have been avery heatedaffair.’” I angrily throw the paperonto the table in the iSkate lounge. “Avery heated affair? We were sleeping!”
