She whirls on me, taking two steps in my direction before hurling her phone across the room without warning. My hand darts up to catch it on instinct, the impact stinging my palm as I fumble it once to secure a grip and flip it over. My eyes widen as I stare down at the atrocity on the screen– a gaudy, brightly-colored flyer with cartoon cherries and ‘CHERRY POP PARTY’ in giant font.
My stomach drops.
“Jesus, Ford,” I mutter under my breath, grimacing as I take it in.
He grins, stretching his arms above his head. “The graphics really pop, right?” he says, smug as hell. “Viral marketing.”
Ava turns back on him instantly, arms folding tight across her chest like she’s holding herself together by force. “What. The. Fuck,” she spits, enunciating every word with the kind of unbridled fury that would rattle most people.
Not Ford.
He just shrugs, totally unbothered. “Relax, baby. It’s just a joke.” He winks, like that’s supposed to make it better somehow. “And it’s gonna be a hell of a party.”
“It’s not about the party!” Ava snaps, her voice cracking through the room as her hands fly up in frustration. “It’s about the entire goddamn campus laughing at me before anything’s even happened!”
Ford doesn’t even blink. “It was your idea,” he replies coolly. “I told you I was gonna do it.”
Her eyes widen. “Like hell you did!”
“I did. At lunch.” He tilts his head, looking to me for backup.
I rub my forehead, stomach sinking as I recall the exact conversation we had in the Bistro earlier. Ava was only half-listening, distracted, more focused on arguing about the partyitself, but… “Yeah, you kinda did,” I admit, the words tasting like shit.
Ava’s head snaps in my direction, jaw dropping like I just betrayed her somehow.
“But not like this,” I add quickly, trying to walk it back. “Not with the whole… graphic design flourish.”
“Really, Wes?” she scoffs, something wounded flashing in her eyes. “You, too?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Ford cuts in, rolling his eyes like this whole thing is beneath him. “The best defense is a good offense. The Dollhouse wants to auction you off as a virgin, and this flyer tells them they’re shit outta luck.” He turns his head, gaze sliding to Raf. “Right, Raf?”
Raf finally looks up from his phone, the energy in the entire room shifting. “It’ll reach the right people,” he says evenly. “Every student here has familial connections to the Invictus. Information spreads fast.” His gaze flicks to Ava, steady and unreadable. “And since the Dollhouse can’t reach you on campus, they’ll be keeping tabs on what’s happening here.”
Ava sets her jaw, color blooming on her cheeks. The anger is still there, but something else is threading through it now– something more raw. “Is that really how you want to do this?” she asks quietly, eyes locked on Raf. “Thought you didn’t want it unless I did?”
My brows shoot up. I look between them, something cold settling low in my gut as I realize I’ve missed something. A conversation, and understanding that didn’t include me.
Raf stares her down unflinchingly, until the air in the room gets so thick it’s hard to breathe.
“Whatever,” Ava mutters after a second, breaking eye contact and turning away from him. “Hope you assholes enjoy your little party, because I’m not coming.”
Ford snorts. “You’re hilarious. You’ll be there, Doll. And you’re gonna get fucked after.” His voice drops just enough to feel like a promise. “That’s the deal.”
She recoils like he slapped her. “Excuse me?”
Ford shrugs. “You can be a bitch about it,” he says casually, shifting his laptop to the side table and pushing to his feet, “or you can lean in and enjoy yourself.” His mouth curls, slow and taunting. “You might actually have a good time if you’d stop acting so high and mighty and loosen the fuck up.”
Ava seethes, but I see the flinch behind her eyes, the hit landing deeper than she wants it to. Not just anger– humiliation. Violation.
“What’s fun about having my sex life turned into a public event?” she bites out.
Ford rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t love the attention, Ava baby.”
She glares back at him for a long moment, something in her expression going cold. “You’re all assholes,” she says finally, then turns and storms off down the hall.
The slam of her bedroom door cracks through the apartment, a picture on the living room wall jumping loose and tipping sideways on its nail. Silence settles in her absence, then Ford exhales a laugh, dragging a hand through his hair like that was all just fun and games.
“Too far?” he asks, cocking a brow. “Don’t know about you guys, but it gets my dick hard when she’s fired up like that.”
