“Kannon with a K?” I scoff. “He’d take a fern to Winter Ball if it wore lip gloss.”
“Jealousy is not a good look on you.”
“I’m not?—”
But then Rosalie Wexford materializes in front of my locker like she was summoned by privilege itself.
Perfect posture. Perfect hair. Perfectly empty eyes.
“Leo, darling,” she purrs. “Winter Ball. Be my date?”
Should say no.
Should sayI’m taken—emotionally, mentally, spiritually, in every way that matters. But jade wants space and taking Rosalie will make my mom happy. How fucked up is that?
Instead—
“Yeah, sure.”
Her smile could slice marble.
“Splendid. Do try to match my energy.”
Fuck.
Mia whistles. “Oh, this is gonna be a show.”
Across the hall?—
Kannon leans too close to Jade.
And she laughs.
At something he says.
She doesn’t shove him away.
Doesn’t roll her eyes.
Doesn’t even give me a glance.
My jaw ticks so hard I swear it cracks.
Let the games begin.
Every day, every hour, someone new is talking about her.
Her views climb.
Her followers climb.
Her influence climbs.
And me?
I watch from the sidelines like a damn ghost in my own story.
I’m proud.
