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The twist in my stomach is too much. “It’s your hockey sweater, Maison; of course I’m going to give it back to you.”

“This way you won’t forget about me.” The way he chews on his bottom lip causes my fingernails to dig into my palms. His eyes linger on the sweater that’s ridden up, barely covering my lady parts. I’m not sure if he’s clued in that I’m not wearing any underwear.

I close the door and slide the keys into the ignition. He moves out of the way as I pull out of the space, leaving him in my dust.

Forget about him? I don’t think that’s possible. Somehow, in the short time I’ve been at this school, these twins have become the centre of my world.

A pit roils in my tummy as I see his tall silhouette still staring at my rearview as I drive down the tree-lined road toward my dad’s house.

Nothing about this feels good—deep down, spying on Maison is wrong. Perhaps I should let sleeping giants lie and not do this. I can still write a good story about the tournament and the athletes and stick to the assignment.

But the thrill of it all keeps me wanting more—the swirl in my stomach is more than just my obvious physical attraction to him. It’s about finding out the truth, which is the reason I wanted to be a journalist to begin with.

At least now I can report to Nigel that I’ve made progress with the twins. Plus, that interaction was interesting. Maison does not seem like someone who went through a tragedy a year and a half ago. He’s either projecting his emotions or hiding his true torment.

Either way, I cannot let him touch me like that again. I have to be stronger than I used to be. I won’t sleep with him just to find out information, even if he tries. Because if I do that, then it will make me more of a villain than they are.

Chapter Five

Four days till Alaska

I covered my first hockey game last night. Nigel still expects full coverage of the tournament from a sports aspect, so I’ve been studying how to craft player profiles, how to write a high-profile event, and elements I want to include in my feature story—an ideal disguise for my real motives. With how exceptional this team is, Micah can’t hide from me for long. Nigel’s been researching public and private information on the case. All we know is that Micah spent three days in the state jail, and his dad must have pulled some serious strings because the charges were quickly dropped. Especially since the coroner’s report showed Micah’s DNA fresh inside her, along with the dangerous levels of date rape drugs. He was eighteen, so he would have been charged as an adult. He was stone-cold sober when it happened, but it was reported he was driving erratically. None of these shines on him in the best light.

The exhibition game against Douglas Cove was a brutal bloodbath. Blood literally stained the ice from the hits and fights. Olivia was from there, and that team wanted Micah’s head. Students had signs saying ‘Murderer’ before the referee told them to take it down. Despite this, New Ocean still rallied around Micah. Maison was always there protecting him, like it was just the two of them. Thomas also protected him fiercely; at one point, he took a couple of guys who had pinned Micah in the corner and shoved his skates on their neck. The wild card for me is Ezra. I know little about him, but given his complicated history with Naomi, I wonder how much love is there? If Micah wasn’t around, he’d be the best player. By coming back here, Micah stole many aspects of his life—namely, his position on the team and his girlfriend.

It’s Friday afternoon, the last period before we leave for Alaska on Monday. English—the only class I have with both twins.

I’m the first to walk in. I just had study hall, so I came early. I sit by the window in the back, put down my notebook, and exhale. One more day till I can say I’ve survived my first couple of weeks at New Ocean Prep. The door creaks open as the athletic build of a twin walks in, and our eyes meet.

His pupils flash, but his face is neutral, and I give him a hesitant smile that’s not reciprocated. Instead, he hesitates and sits with his back to me, ignoring me like I’m vermin.

Micah, then.

I’m not as good at telling them apart as I thought. Maison’s smile, Micah’s scowl, that’s easy, but when their face is resting, it’s impossible. They wear their hair the same, as if purposely trying to fuck with everyone.

He sits and squares his shoulders while I glance at my notebook and pretend his icy demeanor didn’t sting just a little. I only smiled at him—would it be so hard to smile back?

A few others trickle in, including Nigel, who notices me and rushes over. The three of us have been tight since I’ve started with the paper, and especially since I’ve offered to help Nigel with his story.

I have Nigel figured out—he likes to control what tiny influence he has in this school. If he perceives you as a threat, he will try to take you down. He’s smart, and I can see why he made editor, and I’m relieved I found people I connect with in my short time here. Jade, however, is not in on our little secret. Nigel made me promise not to tell her about the exposé we want to write.

“I learned something new about the twins,” Nigel whispers as he joins me. He still wears his bow tie every day, so he adjusts it, pulls out his notebook, and leans closer. “Well, more about their father, but it’s interesting.”

Nigel’s been digging into what he can about them and their family, but I know he is counting on me to make progress with them next week.

Jade strolls in with her bouncing brown curls and sits next to Nigel, flashing me a smile as Nigel goes cold on her. She narrows her eyes in confusion.

“We’ll chat later,” Nigel murmurs. “Meet me after class.”

Jade’s eyes brighten. “Why, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Jade,” Nigel quips. “Not everything has to do with you.”

I wince at the harshness of his words and their obvious effect on her as she shrinks down in her seat—not unlike how I just reacted to Micah. Spending time with them, I am convinced Jade is in love with him. She hangs on his every word.

I’m completely distracted as Maison finally walks in, holding hands with… Naomi. In fact, it gives me pause because I could have sworn it was Micah who walked in earlier. Naomi has perfect posture, her blonde hair pulled back with bangs framing her face, beaming by Micah’s side in her cheer uniform. Ezra’s not in this class because she rarely acts so flirty with Micah when Ezra’s around.

They sit on a chair, and Naomi straddles him, obviously wanting everyone to see her, and my skin goes clammy. If that’s Micah with his hands resting on Naomi’s ass, then that means it was Maison who iced me out earlier.