Page 90 of Resurgent

I laugh. “Had to ruin the moment eventually.”

“I really did,” he says, grinning as he takes another drink of his coffee.

And despite how weird that could have gone, I find myself smiling into mine.

Chapter twenty-five

Annalise

“What a waste of perfectly good dresses!" Emily sighs, giving our reflections a head-to-toe examination.

"What are you talking about? You both look incredible," Sasha says, too focused on her makeup to notice Em and me bumping each other conspiratorially.

"Riighhhttt. Maybe we should just skip the Gala?" I tease, watching the horror overtake Sasha's face in the mirror as she drops her Perfectly Pink lipstick onto her makeshift vanity.

"You cannot skip! Do you know what the school would do to you? I can't even imagine what your punishment would be!

"They’d roll you back to Delta class at the very least. Expulsion? Maybe," she rambles, not letting me get a word in. "On second thought, you might not care about either of those, given the hotties following you both around like lost puppies…

"Oh! I know! Lee—think about how Matt would feel! He'd lose his mind if he were forced to graduate and move away without you...or imagine the psychotic lengths your twisted twin would go to in order to rescue you if you were sent back to prison! None of that’s worth it simply because you changed your mind about dresses!"

"Sasha! Breathe!" I say.

Her eyes snap to me, frantic and far too serious. Instantly, Emily and I break into full fits of laughter, tears running down our faces so hard that our makeup would be ruined if we hadn’t decided to do our hair first, while Sasha obsessed over hers.

"What is so damned funny?"

"Your face—" Em starts, but she's caught up in another bout of laughter, and this time, it takes me a minute to realize why.

"Excuse you?" Sasha gapes, hands on her hips, giving us a scolding look that any mom would be proud of.

"Oh my gods, Sasha-look at your face!" I blurt out before doubling over, hands on my stomach like that'll keep the laughing cramps from hitting so hard.

Her annoyance washes almost instantly when she notices that below her beautifully done eyeshadow, thick fake eyelashes, and Perfectly Pinched blush, there’s a solid streak of Pouty Pink lipstick trailing from her unfinished bottom lip to where it finally fell from her chin.

"I'm going to kill you!" Sasha half-laughs-half-screams, her eyes flashing with something dangerous. Before Emily and I know what's happening—she's running at us—the aforementioned lipstick extended like a sword she's ready to impale us with.

"Run!!!" I shout, but Emily's already two steps ahead of me, bolting for the door.

Sasha laughs like a madwoman before I hear her rummaging through her basket of homebrewed tinctures.

Not wanting her to catch us both with whatever concoction she's arming herself with, I turn right into the hallway as Emily turns left.

A few people in the halls give us questioning looks, while others scan the area for danger—not that I can blame them. We're supposed to be getting ready for the Track Gala, but instead, we're in our dresses, sprinting barefoot down the hall trying to escape whatever revenge Sasha has planned.

I'm almost to the end of the hall before I realize my mistake...there are no exits by the laundry room, and very few places to hide.

Think, Annalise. Just think.

Sasha bellows like Tarzan, sending my feet in motion before I can overthink what I'm about to do.

I've barely pounded on the door twice before it's swinging open, and I'm falling into him.

"Scout, what's wrong?" he asks, concerned and far too loud considering he's unknowingly harboring a fugitive, and Sasha wouldn't think twice before subjecting him to her evil plans.

Quickly, I spin us, using his body like a blockade as I push the door shut and cover his mouth with my hand.

"Shhh! Sasha will find me," I whisper-laugh into his ear as I stand on my tiptoes, trying to peek over his shaking shoulders—thanks to his silent laughter—through the peephole.