“You sound like you don’t believe me.”
“Why wouldn’t I believe you?”
“I don’t know.I really don’t care about him.He thinks he can just come over here, totally disrespect everybody, and then get involved with me when he’s got a girlfriend at home!”
“You two need to talk.”
I laugh out loud.“I’m not saying another word to him, OK?”
“OK, Livy.How about this?We’ll go down to the old greenhouse later on with everyone, forget what’s happened today for a couple of hours, and tomorrow the world will look totally different.”
“There’s no way I’m going to a midnight party and risk seeing him there.”
Tori raises her eyebrows.“You don’t really think he’ll come?Charlie says he thinks the midnight parties are childish.”
I snort.“He’schildish.”
“Far be it from me to defend him, but I think that Colin Fantino is all fear and facade.”
“He’s not a hero in one of your stupid books, Tori,” I snarl.
“And you don’t not care about him, Livy.”
I glare warningly at her.Maybe she’s right, but that doesn’t change the fact that I wish with every fiber of my being that it wasn’t so.
19
Colin
My blood is boiling as Olive Garden slams the door behind her and storms off.
At last.Or then again, maybe not...
Fuck.
A pathetic part of me wants to run after her and explain the whole thing with Maresa, but my last remnant of self-respect holds me back.What the fuck business is it of hers what I did in New York, and what makes her think I was even remotely serious about her?I’m Colin Fantino.I don’t take anything seriously, least of all someone like her.
I’ve had it with all this drama.I want to go home.I want to be left in peace.I don’t want to think about flames towering into the sky, or the aggressive wail of fire-engine and police sirens.I don’t want to be the one to blame for a woman’s death.I want to get something right just one time, but it seems like I was born to always do the wrong thing.
I don’t see Olive anywhere at dinner, and I’m fine with that.God, she’s making such a fucking drama out of something sheknows nothing about.Nothing.I can kind of understand her being pissed at seeing photos of Maresa and me, but I really don’t find it OK to assume from them that we’re together.She could at least have listened to an explanation.And maybe I could have kept calm and resisted the urge to insult Maresa.But apparently, I can’t stay calm when Olive’s standing in front of me blowing her top.I don’t want her to have this negative image of me, but everything I do in her presence confirms it, again and again.
After dinner, I hang around outside, despite the ever-colder temperatures, and don’t head back to my room until wing time.But not to sleep.I’m meeting Kit; his boyfriend, Will; Adam; and some others at the midnight party.Sinclair invites me too, which is surprisingly nice of him, so after a while we stroll down together.I’d been expecting him to take Olive’s side and give me the silent treatment, but he starts to chat.I might not find him as irritating as I did to start with, but I’d never admit that.
I’ve learned that the others are relatively unfazed about being out after wing time, so I can totally scratch my original plan to get kicked out that way.Besides, I’d just get some other punishment dumped on me.Even so, I haven’t given up hope of finding a crime so heinous that Mrs.Sinclair will have no choice but to throw me out of Dunbridge Academy.I can think about the consequences of that later, but the main thing is to get out of here, especially now that Olive hates me.It’s bad enough that I’ve been so distracted in the last few weeks that I dropped the ball on that one.Distracted by Olive, classes, tennis, boxing with Kit, cleaning duties...but that’s over now.I’ve got to focus on what matters.
It’s not long before I’m regretting having come, and now I’mslumped in one of the armchairs in the old greenhouse.It’s seriously lame tonight.But at least these Scots are into their booze.There’s some hard stuff, the kind of thing it’s difficult to get hold of underage in America.Here, you can buy it in any goddamn supermarket once you’re eighteen.
Olive Garden isn’t here, but I start drinking as fast as I can.At the same time, I remove every memory of Maresa from my socials, like I should have done long ago, and try not to get sucked into any conversations.Not very successfully because people keep talking to me, and I have to keep reminding myself that I’m not here to make friends.But why do I feel so weird every time I see Sinclair mutter something into Henry’s ear, on which the two of them look expressively at each other, then burst out laughing?I wouldn’t call it jealousy.It’s more disappointment that I’ve never had that kind of friendship.Things weren’t like that at my school.People just hung out together to share the pain.Paxton, Ash, and I never asked each other how we really were.It was just about having a good time.I barely ever spoke to anyone about personal shit.Even the conversations I’ve had with Kit went deeper than anything with my buddies in New York.They’ve got something real here at Dunbridge, something that goes deeper and forms real bonds, because of being together 24-7.That can be superannoying, but it’s kind of nice too.Maybe I should say so to Kit sometime.
Right now, he’s preoccupied making out with Will.Which is fine by me, even though it reminds me of kissing Olive.A kiss I obviously donotregret.I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I ever got the chance.But I can’t because I showed her what a jerk I reallyam.And this is my reward.The music’s shit, everything’s shit, so I drink more.And more.
Eventually, Olive Garden shows up with her girlfriends, gives me one of her silly death glares, and grabs a bottle for herself.She’s impossible and I hate her.And I wish I didn’t keep glancing over to her.Though apparently she’s the same.We aren’t speaking, we’re miles apart from each other, we’re not listening to the other conversations—or at least I’m not.I’m way too busy winning the silent staring match we’re fighting.
I raise my wine bottle; she raises hers.Maybe this is childish, but she’s childish.Everything here is childish.I’m just fitting in.She drinks when I drink.She looks livid.
So you really want to do this, Olive Garden?No problem.
I drain my bottle in one swig and reach for the next.
