I also know with Jax’s social standing, the Elites stop at nothing to uncover the truth. Let’s hope Zain is as clever at hiding bodies as he is at stalking. On the other hand, if he gets locked up, I will be free of this push and pull that threatens to be my undoing. I’m still desperate for answers. His stalking and digging into my personal life makes me feel uneasy yet safe.
I have been spending my free time scouring news articles and unearthing any information about Zain or the Larks, but unfortunately, I’ve come up empty-handed. Any information regarding the Larks is only in relation to their generous donations to Grimshaw. Zain is absent from all Beatrice and Roland Larks articles. In fact, there is
almost no mention of Zain at all after the age of thirteen. It was about the time Beatrice died. The Larks are well known in the town. They’re in the same social circle as my father. All the Elites have their own group. Although, they’re one of the families I never conversed with. I’m not sure why, but Father always kept me far away from his friends and private business, especially the other Elite families. I felt like such an outcast. That’s probably why I keep to myself mostly.
“Vesp?” Clara waves a hand in front of my face.
I blink a few times before releasing a groan as I tap my fingers along the keyboard. “I think I’m just tired,” I wave off. I am in no mood to talk to her about Zain. She, being intuitive, can sense something is going on, even if she can’t pinpoint what. Eventually, I plan to unveil what’s transpired, but now isn’t that time.
She peers at me and purses her lips. “Oooookay,” she draws out. “Want me to meet you after my class and walk you to the Cadence Building?" she offers as she jots down notes from the whiteboard. “I haven’t heard you practice in ages.”
I crinkle my nose. “Why are you not using your computer for notes?” I ask, ignoring her question, and hoping to distract her from my racing self-loathing thoughts.
She shrugs and tips her chin forward. “I thought I’d go old school today,” she says simply. She’s clearly skirting the issue. She likely broke her computer again and lacks the funds to fix it.
“Wanna use mine? We can go over to Office Plus and get you a new one?” I offer, sliding it in her direction.She shakes her head vehemently. “No. Maybe after Christmas. I was clumsy and dropped it—of course it shattered,” she says dramatically, scooting it back in my direction. I shoot her a sympathetic smile. “If you change your mind, it’s no issue to help replace it, Clara.”
She chews the inside of cheek and nods slowly. “I’ll get it handled.” “If you’re sure.”
The professor continues with his lecture, and I try to focus to the best of my ability but find myself unable to be pulled away from the distraction that is Zain.
He has been attending all of his classes regularly, just to keep a close eye on me, which has made it exponentially harder to dig up information on him. Any other normal person would go to the police and try to stay as far as possible. Me? I try to justify his actions to calm my racing mind. Maybe I need therapy. I feel his presence like an ominous cloud. It’s both inviting and strangely comforting despite the fraught tension that comes along with it. I’m in a constant state of rolling emotions.
Mr. Grimshaw’s voice crackles through the speakers, echoing through the gray stone building. “Good morning, students!Our annual Requiem Music Symphony is coming up in just one week. This event will be open to all students, alumni, and family. Check your E-mail for information. We encourage your attendance to support our school and continue the legacy of Grimshaw Academy. We strive for a wholesome education, strong students and successful alumni.”
Clara and I exchange glances, and I groan. Butterflies flutter in the pit of my stomach.
I don’t enjoy being the center of attention in general, but when I’m on that stage, all of the doubt disappears, and I feel free. Plus, I could use the distraction right now. For some strange reason, though, I’m feelingdread and a strong presentiment that something bad is going to happen during my performance. I chalk it up to Zain and this whirlwind of a semester. “You’ll do great.” She smiles weakly, sensing my apprehension. Clearly, she’s fighting her inner turmoil again. She does so well at hiding it.
I return the smile, but it doesn’t reach my cheeks. “Yeah.”
The professor wraps up class, and I throw my JanSport over my shoulder and slink out of the classroom, hoping to elude Zain. He sits perched in the back of the room, his cold, emotionless expression glued to me and each movement I make. His presence is unnerving and arousing at the same time. I weave through the other students, peeling off from Clara with a wave as she takes off in the opposite direction.
Once she’s out of my line of sight, I bolt for my next class. The only class thatdoesn’tinvolve Zain. I need room to breathe; his very presence is suffocating. I cannot afford distractions this close to the symphony.
I round the narrow hallway towards class just to slam into a body. My ass hits the hard floor and my bag spills from my arm, the contents falling onto the flagstone floors.
“Sorry, are you alright?” A soft male voice cuts through the loud chatter of the corridor.
My eyes slowly drag upwards into a tall, impeccably dressed coed. His hair is swooped to the side, and his jaw is perfectly angular. One of the Elites no doubt. I think his name is Slade Hexwood. His bright-green eyes snake down to me, his hand extended. I shake my head and clasp his hand, letting him drag me up from the dirty ground. “No, the fault is mine. My head is up in the clouds these days.” I laugh awkwardly and tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ears.
“Vesper, right? Pearson Santi’s daughter?” he asks with an award-winning smile.
I nod. “Yeah, that’s me.” I bend over to pick up my books and open my backpack, but he beats me to it. He jams my books inside my JanSport. Reluctantly, I take the outstretched bag he offers, unsure why he’s talking to me in the first place. Despite the fact I’m also considered Elite, I’m a black sheep. The Elites usually keep to themselves and are in no short supply of friends. That is, aside from Zain. He’s an anomaly.
“Slade Hexwood,” he offers.I was right. The Hexwoods are another one of the prestigious Elites alongside the Larks, Grimshaws, Santis, and countless others that funnel money into the school.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say politely, but the words are poison on my tongue. The Elites run together mostly, so I know he must have been friends with Jax. I wonder if he knew how much of a sick asshole he was.
“Thanks. I hope they find him. It isn’t like him to leave unannounced.” His words seem uncaring and rushed. Maybe it’s still a sensitive subject.
I keep my eyes trained on the floor. His hand reaches out and lifts my chin. Our eyes connect. “You really are beautiful,” he whispers before offering me that smile again.
Before I can even compute what’s happening, he continues down the hallway, leaving me in his wake.
***
By the time I reach the Cadence Building, I’m ready to drown myself in music and forget everything. No one even notices my lateness. I drop my stuff off behind the velvet curtains and slip into place at the piano. I settle into my seat, remembering the dirty things I’ve done on this stool. I inhale and let the vivid images stamp into my brain.
