Lizzy’s expression shifts slightly. “Have you told Sasha? About being gay?”
“No.” The word comes out flat. “Not yet.”
The truth is I’m terrified to tell him. Terrified of the scorn and the possibility that my perfect older brother might look at me differently. Might see me as less than.
“Val—”
“I will,” I interrupt. “Just not right now. Not with everything else going on.”
Liz starts to say something, then stops. Her expression changes—becomes more guarded, almost distant.
“What?” I ask.
“One of the hockey players talked to me today.” Her voice is careful, measured. “Marcus Morin. We have statistics together.”
My stomach drops. “What did he say?”
“He asked me if you were okay. Said the team thinks something strange has been happening with Devlin lately.”
“With Devlin?”
“Yeah.” She’s still holding my hand, but her grip has tightened. “Marcus said he’s been… let’s say… extremely short-tempered. Or he spaces out completely, like he’s in another world. They’re starting to get worried.”
I don’t know what to say to that. The image of Devlin from yesterday—frantic and desperate and… almost feverish—flashes through my mind.
“Although,” Liz continues, her voice turning cynical, “I don’t know if there’s any need to worry so much. Devlin Bower is a cold-blooded machine of insensitivity and immeeeense self-importance. Everything will be fine for him. It always is for bastards like that.”
Six months ago, I would have agreed immediately. Would have nodded along and added my own complaints about Devlin’s arrogance.
But now I just sit there, unable to make my mouth form the words.
“Val?”
“I think Monica might have sent them,” I say abruptly, desperate to change the subject. “The Valentine’s Day cards. She hates me for the building thing, and she’s exactly the type to pull something like this.”
Lizzy considers this. “That actually makes sense. She’s definitely vindictive enough.” She pauses. “What are you going to do?”
“Devlin said…” I swallow hard. “He said he wouldn’t let me roam around campus alone until this was sorted out. That I had to stay where he could see me.”
“He what?” Lizzy’s voice rises. “That controlling asshole! Who does he think he is?”
“I know, but—”
“Do you even go anywhere that much anyway?” She’s getting worked up now, her coffee forgotten. “And Devlin’s always busy with the team himself. He was just trying to intimidate you.”
Maybe. Or maybe he meant it.
I don’t know anymore.
* * *
The animal rescue center is quiet when I let myself in a few hours later. Just me and twelve creatures who depend on me to keep them alive.
Gerald blinks at me from his tank, unimpressed as always.
“Don’t give me that look,” I mutter, sprinkling food into his water. “You have no idea what kind of day I’m having.”
The rabbit—Clover, I’ve started calling her—hops over to the edge of her enclosure, her nose twitching. She’s getting braver, less skittish. In a few weeks, we might be able to find her a home.
