“It was a deliberate insult,” he says, cutting up a line on the mirror with his unreleased Amex Black Card. The scrapes aggressively against the glass. “Putting me next to Cure. He kept asking about my little sister, like she’s any of his business.”
Archie barks a laugh, mouth curling, while Hudson shoves him for being a bit too loud. Archie’s draped across the lounge chair like it’s his throne. Shirt open, tie loose, he leans forward and pours a bit more vodka from a crystal decanter over the ice in Ford's glass. “Maybe the dumb twat thought he’d have a better chance with you. We all know what would come of asking Dex.”
Dex snorts. “Yeah fucking right, he knows better than to ask me. Surprised he even risked Ford, to begin with.”
Dexter’s perched on the arm of the couch, legs swinging, money clip already out. He peels off five hundred-dollar bills like he’s dealing playing cards, one for each of us, then starts rolling his between his fingers like it’s nothing more than paper. He holds it out to me. “Herron?”
I shake my head.
“Suit yourself,” Dex mutters and leans down to snort one of the lines his brother just cut. When he comes back up, he’s got that wired look in his eye, pupils blown, grin feral. “You see the mayor’s daughter tonight? The little blue number with the slit up to God?”
“She looked like she wanted to get eaten alive,” Archie says, licking his thumb as he flips through a pack of cigarettes like he’s choosing between them, even though they’re all the same. “And I was feeling generous.”
Ford rolls his eyes, and Hudson and I join him.
“Tell me, Archibald,” Dex starts to laugh, cackling so loudly he almost slips off the arm of the couch, “did you eat her pussy before or after dinner?”
“What’s the difference to you, Dex?”
Dex can barely contain his laughter; he thumps a fist to his chest and gasps for breath.
“This difference is whether or not you ate me out of her.” He bursts out laughing again.
I can’t help but chuckle, myself. They’re high and loud. But there’s a comfort in it. A rhythm. It’s easier than silence. Easier than thinking about the tasks waiting for us once this haze wears off.
Because under all the charm and trust funds and inherited names, we all know what this really is. We’re not just here to socialize. We’re here to prepare.
And my assignment has already begun.
Dex flings his rolled-up bill at Ford. Archie lights up with a gold-plated lighter that used to belong to his grandfather, or some other ghost in his bloodline. Hudson helps himself to a few lines in silence. I lean back, glass resting on my thigh, watching them devolve into familiar chaos.
Ford starts complaining about the gala again, no doubt annoyed that it wasn’t as perfect as the ones his mommy usually throws.
But through his petulant pouting—like the weight of our class’s social obligations is some unbearable burden, as if he doesn’t secretly relish every second—I see my in.
I swirl the glass in my hand but don’t drink. “What exactly did Cure say?”
Ford glances at me, then at the others, then back to me. The silence drops an octave.
“He asked if she’d be at the end-of-summer events this year,” Ford mutters, eyes narrowing. “As if he has any right to ask. She’s still in boarding school, for God’s sake. Practically a child.”
Archie whistles low while Dex’s face scrunches tightly. My face remains impassive, as though I don’t already know her whereabouts.
“He’s sniffing around again,” Dex says. “Fucking Cure.”
Ford grinds his teeth, leaning forward to pour himself another drink, his fourth since we’ve been here. “We’ll need to have a little chat with the fucker tomorrow,” he says, locking eyes with his brother.
Archie grins manically. “Maybe I need to remind him who she really belongs to.”
Ford rolls his eyes, and I don’t miss Dex’s smirk.
Interesting how neither of the twins seems even remotely bothered by Archie joking like he owns her. If only they knew.
“Don’t be a fucking asshole, Arch,” Dex says, stealing one of Archie’s cigarettes and lighting it. “We all know she wants nothing to do with you.”
I study Archie. “In love, are you?”
His cheeks turn red at my mocking tone, and he throws me a dramatic glare.
