“I have to go to the back and do the schedules for next week so I might not see you boys before you leave. William, you're coming for dinner soon, right?” she asks, hands on her hips, but it’s not really a question.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good.” She pats his head before turning to me. “Love you.” She squeezes my shoulder before disappearing into the hustle and bustle of the restaurant.
Will cuts out a large bite of syrupy pancake pausing before it disappears into his mouth. “Wait—why areyouhere and not in some girl’s bed?”
I breathe out, letting myself melt back into who I let Will know me to be. I start to make up some excuse, saying I was doing damage control with him for Coach, but my phone dings.
256-400-5143
Hi! calling in that favor if ur free tonight?
I stare at my phone a second too long which has Will snagging it from me without giving me a second to blink.
“A favor?” He wiggles his eyebrows and I’m glad for the momentary respite into normalcy. I watch him type in a reply, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Dude what the fuck?Sloane Fielderis hitting you up?” Amusement laces his tone, and he almost looks sober as he wrinkles his face at my phone.
“Stop—” I blurt, attempting to snatch it back but he fakes left, shouldering me before I can grab it. “Will, please. It’s really not like that with?—”
“Just trust me.” I can hear the grin in his voice as he thumbs out a response to whatever Sloane sent him. I tilt my head backward, looking up at the fluorescently lit linoleum ceiling.
I shouldn’t even care. I don’t know what it is about her; normally, I’d be fine digging up some dirt on a one night stand. But Sloane isn’t even that. We’re not sleeping together. It’d be better if we had because then I could’ve put her in the back mirror.
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 offractured 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 ofdone? 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'vebeen 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 amileaway. 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.
