He’s not like Luke Stelmak and Justin Lee and the rest of the cocky, dick-swinging rowing team, which now includes Sumner, I guess. Jared’s not a self-centered jerk who punches down. He’s a giant nerd who collects handmade gaming dice and studies computer programming, someone who wants his first tattoo to be someLegends of Lightreference. He’s not a bully.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Sumner says. “This? It’s an initiation. A test of your character. If you squeal to the administration and get everyone in trouble, you’ll make things worse for yourself. But if you can take it? Then you’re fine.”
Boy logic.Stupendous.
“Ah,” William says as the final piece of armor clatters on the dock. “I see.”
I don’t. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I don’t know,” Sumner muses. “I’ve heard dumber things from Stelmak.”
“Right,” I snort. “Your new best friend.”
Sumner narrows his eyes. “Didn’t realize my friendships required your approval.”
“Maybe they should,” I say casually, “considering they’re the type to do this.” I gesture to William’s lip. While the swelling is gone, there’s a faint brush of deep mauve near the outer corner. “Who ended up swinging, anyway?”
William’s brows furrow. “The stocky one.”
“Montfort,” Sumner clarifies.
Julian Montfort. The team’s captain. Of course everyone has his back.
I narrow my eyes. “How would you know?”
Sumner tugs the hem of his tee and reveals a greenish-yellow bruise just below his rib cage. “Who do you think broke it up?”
This surprises me. Not that I think Sumner’s one to gang up on William, but it’s hard to defend someone who’s gone around calling people boisterous and ungovernable, although that maybe doesn’t warrant a jab to the face. I blame the testosterone. And general idiocy.
We take turns pitching the rest of the armor out of the boat. William gathers it in his arms and swivels toward us, damp hairdangling near his cheekbones. My heart flutters—there and gone so fast I convince myself I imagined it.
I meet his gaze. “You should get that back before the teachers discover it’s gone.”
Sumner grabs the helmet from William’s overstuffed arms. “I’ll be there in a minute.” William nods once, then starts down the dock. Once he’s out of earshot, Sumner starts to speak, but I get there first.
“Youtold him to go along with it?” I fume.
“I know it goes against whatever better judgment you assume you might have, but you’ve got to trust me on this,” he says. “It’s how he’ll earn respect.”
I am still decidedly uncertain when something in Sumner’s expression shifts.
“Listen, I found something last night.” He grabs his phone from his pocket and, after a few taps, faces the screen toward me. “It’s a local article on Beaumont Guidry—Charles’s grandfather, the one who recently died. And when I looked into it, I found out Ivernia continued to stay in William’s family until his son’s granddaughter married Beaumont. That’s how they’re connected. And it sucks because Charles has every right to the land, but look at the comments.”
He scrolls to the bottom. An anonymous user says Charles has plans to sell the property to a developer, who will then transform Ivernia School into a resort.
Aresort.
It’s like I’ve taken a bowling ball to the stomach, the feeling knocking the wind out of me. It’s not enough to inherit Beaumont’s fortune, but to use that fortune to generate even more wealth makes me nauseous. He’s shutting down an educational institution that’s been around for over a century like it’s nothing. To him, it’s meaningless. A slice of property that’s rightfully his.
Analiese is coming toward us. Sumner slides his phone in his pocket and tucks the helmet under his arm. A surge of unexpected appreciation fills me, a conflicting emotion in his presence. Because he’s done what he said he’d do. Taken a beat to research and report back while guiding William through the nuances of modern life, and, somehow, he’s managed to outrank me. But he’s shown up, and that counts for something. I can’t do this on my own.
“Meet me tonight,” I say. “We have a lot to figure out.”
17
A deepening chill sweeps throughthe air as I wait outside the back door of Segner House. I’d told Analiese I had a history group project, which is the only class Sumner and I share this semester, and I needed to focus on it. In reality, Sumner told me to meet him and William out here at eight.
It’s now ten after.
