The boy’s eyes flicked to her. “Who’s this? Your emotional support nerd?”
Lily blinked at him. “That’s rich coming from a man whose shirt collar is actively trying to escape his personality.”
One of the girls behind him snorted before she could stop herself.
His face tightened.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
“Cute,” he said. “You get mouthy out here, Destiny? California make you brave?”
“No,” I said. “Leaving Santa Fe did.”
His smile sharpened again.
The name came to me then.
Brett.
Brett Harrison.
Not one of the main girls. Not one of the ones who had stood in the center of the bonfire storm and lit matches with other people’s lives. He had been around the edges. Older brother to Celia Harrison, one of the girls whose group chats had helped JD flip the table. I remembered his family now. Country club money. Father with perfect hair and a habit of calling womensweetheart like it was a leash. Mother who donated to hospitals and treated servers like stains on tile.
Brett had gone to USC.
Of course he had.
“What are you even doing here?” he asked. “Thought they shipped you off somewhere after everything.”
“College,” Lily said. “It’s this thing people do when they can spell their own names without a family lawyer present.”
The second guy laughed.
Brett shot him a look.
I touched Lily’s arm gently. Not because I wanted her quiet. Because I wanted her safe.
She didn’t move back.
That warmed something in me and terrified something else.
“Walk away,” I told Brett.
“Or what?” His eyes moved down the sidewalk. “You gonna call Daddy? Or one of those leather-wearing psychos who cleaned up your mess?”
My stomach tightened.
I did not look away.
“I don’t need anyone to clean up anything.”
“Really? Because from what I heard, that’s all you people do. Start fires, cry victim, then hide behind bikers and rich old men.”
My hand curled around my phone.
Lily saw.
