Me:
Yes, everything’s fine. Tell u everything when I see u in art.
Another lie, of course, but they’re getting easier and easier to tell. What would that conversation even look like, anyway?Sorry I couldn’t meet you for lunch, I had to interrogate one of your ex-friends about his possible involvement in your sister’s murder and my sister’s assault. Wanna make out?I’m sure that would go over like a lead balloon. What will I tell Connor about why I was delayed? That’s future Billie’s lie to sort out. For now, I pocket my phone and jog over to Julian, pleased when he slows his pace to wait up for me. The expanse of lawn between us is bigger than it looks.
“Belinda.” Julian smiles, his eyes twinkling. How can he flirt with just a look? I’d be impressed if I didn’t know his girlfriend is in a coma. “What are you doing out here? I figured you’d be canoodling with Connor in the dining hall.”
There’s the slightest edge to his voice, which trips me up a bit. What, is he jealous?Please.
I ignore his remark and get straight to the point. “We need to talk.”
“Talk?” He manages to put air quotes around the word with the slightest inflection of his voice. But he starts walking, and so do I. “Are you sure Connor will be okay with that? He can be quite the jealous type, you know.”
I’m curious about that little tidbit—is there history there?—but I don’t let myself get distracted. “Save it, Julian. We need to talk about Isla.”
He comes to a complete stop and takes a deep breath, exhaling through his flared nostrils. His agitation is obvious, and when he glances down at me, I note his furrowed brow and troubled gaze.
“What do you know about Isla? You only just started here,” he so kindly reminds me. The edge in his voice is equal parts defensive and accusatory.
“I know enough.” I glance around, noting the various students milling about. “Let’s find somewhere more private to talk. Where no one will see us.”
Julian leads me to the clock tower, which is on the opposite side of campus. We make the journey in total silence. He enters the building as if he owns it, the door swinging open for him easily. I scurry inside after him and gaze about the space. We’re in a lobby with high ceilings and glass cabinets lining one wall. The shelves are filled with various old trophies and photos of sports teams from the past. I’m tempted to check them out, searching for familiar faces, but I’ve got limited time with Julian and a lot of questions.
“Why would you think I have anything to say toyouabout Isla?” Julian asks.
I appreciate him getting right to the point. “Because I know you were seeing her secretly. And I know it was a secret becauseyouwere the one who insisted she didn’t tell anyone.”
“Who told you this?”
Panic? Anger? I can’t tell what emotion colors his question, so I have to tread carefully. He doesn’t sound happy that I know his little secret. “It doesn’t matter. What I want to knowis, why keep your relationship with Isla under wraps?”
His deep frown pulls his whole face downward, causing a line to appear between his brows. “Doesn’t much matter now, does it? If you know about us, our secret didn’t exactly work out well for me.”
The audacity. Most everyone at this school is incredibly selfish, but Julian Ashworth might have just taken the cake. “Foryou? What about Isla? Are you the reason she’s in a coma?”
Julian rears his head back, and his eyes go wide. “Perhaps you should step away from theLaw & Ordermarathon, Belinda, and retire your make-believe detective badge. I know it’s easy to say ‘the boyfriend did it’ and congratulate yourself on a job well done, but I would never have hurt Isla. I wouldn’t hurtanyone.”
“Then why wouldn’t you go public with your relationship?” There has to be a good reason he kept it concealed. Isla is someone he should have been proud to date. Gorgeous, smart, kind, funny … my sister is a prize.
Julian averts his gaze, and I spot a movement in his jaw that tells me he’s clenching his teeth. I’m glad to have touched on a sore subject. Maybe I’ll finally get closer to some answers.
“It’s complicated,” he bites out.
“Isn’t it always? Let’s see if I can keep up with this complex plot.” I cross my arms, waiting. I’m sick and tired of being kept in the dark. Bullshit answers aren’t gonna fly today.
Julian scrubs his hand over his face and keeps it resting over his mouth. He closes his eyes for the briefest moment and shakes his head once. As if coming up with a response is a struggle.
“Spit it out,” I demand. I’m losing patience, but I also need to create some momentum here. If Julian slows down enough to wonder why he owes me any answers at all, I’m either going to have to tell him the truth—which I don’t want to do—or walk away with my tail between my legs. Better to bully my way through than give him a chance to put up his defenses.
He blows out a harsh breath. “Look, I can admit now that it seems … less important than it once did. Especially after everything that’s happened. But the truth is, my father absolutelydespisesPeter Vale. They competed foreverythingwhen they were at school together here at Wickham. Sports, academics, girls … eventually the friendly rivalry turned not-so-friendly. It should have been the kind of thing that ended after graduation, but it’s like Peter could never let it go. Did you know that at their ten-year reunion, Peter started a rumor that my father had had an affair? Whodoesthat, Belinda? The man is a monster.”
“That’s … horrible. I’m so sorry, Julian. I can understand why—”
“The two of them have been in direct competition with each other going on two decades,” he says, interrupting what was going to be very heartfelt agreement that Peter Vale does indeed sound like a monster. Julian doesn’t realize what a receptive audience he has in me, especially when it comes to dunking on Peter. Do you know what my father does for a living?”
