She was wearing this cool vintage Nehru jacket that I’d coveted the moment I saw her hang it in her closet. Though I’d probably never wear it even if I’d owned it. She also had on an older type of pants called painter’s pants. I have no idea where she found them, but they were boxy and baggy and hung off her curves in a very flattering way. A filmy print peasant blouse under the jacket, and old-style white Chuck Taylors (not the cute new colored ones) on her feet. Shortish, chin-length hair was tucked behind her ears, trying to tame the wild curls.
She raised a brow at Stick, daring him to eat his words.
“Same basic Bimmer or Audi in the parking lot.” Jane opened her mouth to argue, but Stick quickly finished with, “Whenyou’re allowed to have cars in the parking lot, second semester.”
“Oh, so, so wrong, on all counts.” Jane said what was obvious to all of us in the car, even those who had only met Jane tonight.
“Same basic Daddy’s Little Princess,” Stick said, trying to make a last throw onto the dartboard of Jane.
A bark of laughter came from Jane, sounding harsh, even for her. “Strike three, asshole. And you areouuuuut.”
Yes, the Bribury Basic label would never apply to Jane. And in a weird way, it was too bad, because Jane, on some level, did not want to stick out. Did not want to draw attention to herself. She would have loved to blend in, be a Basic in a sea of Bribury Basics.
But it just wasn’t in her to do so. And I think that killed her. It reminded her that maybe she was in fact her mother’s daughter. And that probably killed her even more.
But me? I looked down at myself. North Face jacket. Leggings. Uggs. Long, straight hair (though up right now because it was still wet).
I definitely fit the mold on the outside. But what was more, IknewI adhered to what Stick was really saying—there was no substance. I had followed the trends in high school. I was following them here at Bribury. I didn’t want to stand out, not in a “what the hell is she wearing?” way, and knew enough to know how not to.
And the car? Well, a sleek blue Audi RS4 had been promised to me, as long as Jane stayed out of trouble our entire freshman year. Or at least didn’t get caught or end up on YouTube or something.
It was naturally assumed that I would not do any of those things.
As for the Daddy’s Little Princess? It galled me, but yeah, I was. At least in comparison to my older sister Alexis, who was what passed in our family for a wild child, though in reality, she wasn’t much of one. And my younger brother Gray, who was beginning to bristle at my father’s grooming of his future.
Although I hated that it mattered, it was important to me to be in my father’s good graces, to have him…notice me, I guess.
Even if it was as a pawn in whatever game he was playing with Jane’s father.
Lucas was looking over at me. Of course he’d known I was the embodiment of the “lemming” Stick had described.
“Stick’s full of shit,” Lucas said softly.
“No I’m not. They’re so—”
“Stick’s full of shit,” Lucas said again, loudly, firmly.
Stick finally got it. Perhaps because he had Jane sitting next to him, visually negating everything he was saying. “Ah, sorry, Lily. I didn’t mean…” He couldn’t finish. It was a lie. He had meant it. And what’s more, he was absolutely right.
We all drank our beer and Stick drove us to a deserted-looking area. He turned the car so we were parallel to a long cement wall that was covered in graffiti. He put the car in park and cut the engine.
“Jane, would you please open your door and let me out?” Lucas asked.
Jane looked around at the desolate area, but did as Lucas asked, leaning forward in her seat so the back could go up. Lucas got out then held his hand out to me. “Come on,” he said.
I took his hand. It was big and cold from holding his beer. I wiggled my way out of the car.
Jane lowered the seat and looked like she wanted to get out. Stick placed a hand on her arm. “Let’s stay here and make a dent on this beer,” he said. She looked up at me, silently asking me if I was okay being alone with Lucas.
I nodded and gave her a look—was she okay being alone with Stick? She gave a long-suffering sigh and nodded.
Yeah, I would owe her big. I saw a month of doing her laundry in my future.
Lucas shut the door behind me, keeping hold of my hand. I trailed behind him as he rounded the hood of the car and took the keys from Stick, who handed them to Lucas through the window, which he then rolled back up.
We went around to the back of the car and Lucas unlocked the trunk. He had to let go of my hand to rummage around. “Umm, you might want to not look in here,” Lucas said. Which, of course, made me want to look in the trunk.
“Dead body?” I said, then wished I hadn’t. Let’s face it, I didn’t know anything about Lucas Kade other than he had a brother named Andy Bell and he was going to be retiling my beloved steam room. And Stick? Well, for all I knew, therecouldbe a dead body in Stick’s trunk.
