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The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4: Now We Know/What They Knew

Page 23

by Rebecca Donovan


  “Let’s start with guilt,” I tell him, the stupid tears winning and dripping down my cheeks. “I’m the reason my grandmother’s dead.”

  My face is red and blotchy by the time we return to campus. I’ve obviously been crying, but I’ll deny it if anyone asks. Who knew Mr. Garner would be truly good at what he does? Without help from the stupid life-advisor manual. Guess I should’ve given him a chance to prove it before now.

  I sit through my last ever chemistry class. With just the final exam to pass next week, I’ll be done with it forever. I catch sight of Sophia walking toward me in the hall when I leave the classroom. She looks … terrible. When we make eye contact, she stops abruptly.

  “Sophia?”

  Dark circles shadow her eyes. Her usually perfectly styled ensemble is wrinkled, and her shirt is only half-tucked in.

  She stares at me in horror and then bolts down a side corridor. That wasn’t subtle.

  “Sophia!” I call after her, running to catch up. Except when I make it to the corner, she’s gone.

  There are only two doors in the hall, and both are locked. She … disappeared. Which I know is impossible. My mind automatically concludes she’s snuck down a passage that’s hidden somewhere in the wall.

  I try patting along the wood paneling, hoping something will click open.

  “What are you doing?”

  I spin around to find Lance staring at me curiously. “Nothing. I … nothing. What’s up?”

  “Last day of classes!” he announces triumphantly, his arms raised in the air. “We need to celebrate. You can leave campus now, right?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I answer. And as much as I’m tempted to have fun—or I should say, as much as I need to have fun—I have something I must do first. “I have plans already. Sorry.”

  “Oh.” Lance deflates. “That sucks. I’m going to a party with Kaely. Was hoping you’d come too.”

  Now it’s my turn to be disappointed. I haven’t seen Kaely in weeks.

  I grimace regretfully. “Tell Kaely I said hi. Hopefully, I’ll see her tomorrow at the club.”

  “Are you sure you should be working?” Lance asks in his overprotective little brother way. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay,” I assure him as we exit into the Court. “Arden made this gross-tasting tea that’s helped a lot.”

  “Arden? She’s in the room next to yours, right?”

  “You know her?”

  “No. Seen her. She’s pretty … original.”

  “Definitely. I like her.”

  “Cool. Then I will too.” He stops in front of an art installation that looks like someone stretched chewed gum and wrapped it around a giant baseball bat. “I’m going to the gym now. I’ll see you around.” Before he walks away, he suddenly remembers something. “Oh! There’s a red ribbon tied to the swing in the birch forest. Not for me.”

  “For me?” I ask in surprise. Maybe it’s a note from Ashton, wondering when I’ll be done blowing her off.

  Lance only grins before walking away.

  I redirect my steps to take me to the birch forest. Sure enough, a red ribbon is tied to the white porch swing that I always found so peculiar in the middle of these trees. I untie the ribbon and reach into our tree, removing the jewelry box. A grey envelope with an infinity symbol—my symbol—is drawn on the outside. I tuck the ribbon into the box and replace it inside the hole.

  Sitting on the swing, I open the envelope and pull out a single piece of paper.

  ∞

  I know you asked for time, so I’m trying to be patient. But I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. (Hopefully soon because I miss you.)

  Forever an idiot,

  G

  I cover the huge smile that hijacks my face and laugh. Grant. I hold the note over my heart and laugh again. He is an idiot. I sink into the swing, relieved he hasn’t given up on me. And that I told him about our coded notes in the tree. Then again, I’ve told him everything ’til now.

  I’m tempted to sniff the paper to see if it smells like him. I miss him so much.

  “What’s so funny?” Ashton weaves between the trees. “Oh, wait. Am I too early? Do you still need more time?”

  “Uh, no,” I say, smiling gently. “Your timing’s perfect. Come sit.”

  Ashton lowers next to me, and I lean my head against her shoulder.

  “Sorry I haven’t talked to you all week. I was kind of a mess.”

  “I thought it might’ve been me.”

  I pull my head back to look at her. “No. Why would you think that?”

  “I know I can be a lot. I dumped a lot on you, and, well … not many can handle it. So I thought maybe … you decided I wasn’t worth it.”

  I’m so stunned that it takes me a minute to process it. But I get it. Not many can handle unabridged truth, which is why I choose not to share it more than I do. And Ashton’s been surrounded by inauthentic people her entire life. She’s half-expecting every person to turn on her, which may be why she acts like nothing bothers her most of the time. Letting people see her pain is opening her up to being hurt and rejected again.

  “I’m your friend. I won’t abandon you; that’s not who I am. Or what you deserve. I’ll always be honest with you. Asking for time wasn’t about you. I’m sorry you thought it was. This was about me needing space to get my shit together.”

  “You didn’t have to do it alone.” Her eyes shine with sympathy. “You don’t have to take on the world by yourself, Lana.”

  “Thanks. Guess I’m not used to asking for help either. And I also need to figure out how to not be so angry. Still working on that.” I let out an exhausted breath because it’s damn tiring, trying to keep from exploding.

  “Will you tell me what happened?” Ashton asks, a note of uncertainty lingering in her voice, like she’s still not sure she has the right to ask.

  I proceed to recount the worst hours of my life and how it overlaps with the worst day of my life. This is the first time Ashton is hearing about The Point and what Vic did. I tell her most of it, leaving out the family stuff, and it’s not because I don’t trust her, but because it’s a lot to ask of anyone to keep secret.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Vic before. But if he’s the one who drugged you that night at the barn, you deserve to know. I refuse to keep silent again, not if it could hurt someone else. I won’t do that to you.”

  Ashton releases a heavy breath. “He always gave me the creeps whenever I saw him at parties. But I don’t know if it was him at the barn. I barely remember anything after we joined Courtney to play the game.” She pauses as if fighting to remember. “If there’s any way I can help you make his life hell, you know I will … and I’ll enjoy it.”

  She cocks her brow with a malevolent smirk. I chuckle.

  “I know you will. I have a feeling he’s not done messing with me.” I sigh. “But I have no idea how to stop him.”

  “He’s a psychotic piece of shit. Which means, he’ll screw up, and we’ll be there when he does.” She presses her lips together, reluctant to ask. “Do you know if Nina’s alright?”

  “Niall left a message on Tuesday.” After I refused to pick up his call. “He said she’s recovering. The police didn’t have enough to open a case. I knew she wouldn’t say anything. But I guess a witness said they attacked me. It doesn’t matter … she’s never going to forgive me.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong!” Ashton declares, defending me fervently. “I mean, other than stab her. But that still wasn’t your fault.”

  “She won’t ever see it that way. They were both so furious; it’s like they couldn’t hear anything I said. They wanted to blame me. All over a stupid guy.”

  “Sweetie, I don’t think it had anything to do with Parker,” Ashton consoles.

  “Then what?” I can’t imagine what else I could have done to set them off like that.

  “Jealousy.”

&n
bsp; “Of me?” I scoff.

  “Trust me, I know what jealousy can do to a person. It’s surrounded me my entire life.” She shifts to face me. “You have people who care about you … Nina saw it when you and Parker were talking. And the fact that Niall did everything he could to get you away from that life says something. It doesn’t sound like the girls have anyone willing to rescue them … other than you, and you were taken from them.” She sets her hand on my forearm. “Don’t blame yourself. Some people aren’t who we think they are, especially when we need them the most.”

  I blink up at her. “That was pretty deep. Have you been drinking Arden’s tea?”

  She bats her eyes in mock innocence.

  “Sooo … what’s this?” Ashton leans over and snags the paper from between my fingers. She reads it before I can get it back. “Aww, Lana. He truly is incredible. You better tell this boy you love him in, like, the biggest, most romantic way ever, or I’m going to do it for you.”

  My mouth drops open. “You will not!”

  “Oh yes I will,” she counters like I just dared her. “And you don’t want it coming from me.”

  I purse my lips in defiance. But Ashton releases a menacing cackle.

  I have no doubt she’s serious, so … I cave. “Fine. I’ll tell him. When I’m ready.”

  “That’s not good enough. This weekend.”

  “Ashton!”

  “You still have to ask him to the Ball. So you’d better get your declaration game on.”

  I narrow my eyes in warning. She narrows hers in return. A silent showdown.

  “Let’s go have a tea party!” she announces suddenly, leaping from the swing, leaving me rocking unevenly.

  “Tea? Or mar-tea-nees?” Arden offers when we enter her room.

  Ashton linked her arm through mine on our walk back to the dorm and has refused to let me go, no matter how many times I’ve attempted to squirm out of her hold.

  “Hmm …” Ashton defers to me.

  “It is the last day of summer classes,” I note suggestively.

  “True,” she says with a nod of her head. “Martinis it is.”

  She finally releases me and slides up on the elevated bench. I have to use the crossbar to boost myself up.

  Arden presses a panel on the console covering the sink, and a shelf emerges with a minibar display.

  “So sneaky,” Ashton admires. “I love it.”

  The floor is glowing a rose pink, and the chandelier is pulsing gently to the trance beats coming from the speakers. Arden has a bright cerulean scarf wrapped around her head with a section of her hair dramatically twisted over the top. She’s wearing sparkling cat-eye glasses, and her lips are painted metallic gold. Her svelte body is wrapped in a short, strapless white dress with a metallic-gold-and-silver boa draped backward around her neck.

  I watch her shake the martini mixture while shimmying her hips before pouring it into glasses. It’s purple, and I don’t bother asking what’s in it. I’ve learned to drink what I’m given when it comes to Arden, and maybe fifty percent of the time, I like it.

  “Is your mom okay?” Arden sits on an aerospace-looking stool pulled up to the table.

  I give her a questioning look, wondering what prompted her sudden concern; she hasn’t asked about her all week.

  “Lance. I saw him at the gym. He mentioned he was worried about you,” she explains. “And we started talking about your mom.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “His intentions are noble,” Ashton soothes, patting my leg. Then she bursts out in a giggle. “See what I did? Noble. His curse?”

  “Yeah, I got it,” I mutter. “He needs to keep his mouth shut. I don’t care how noble his intentions are.”

  “Oh, am I not supposed to ask about her?” Arden scrunches her face apologetically. “You don’t have to tell me. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I assure her. “So is she. Niall, Lance’s father—”

  “Our lawyer,” Ashton interjects, winking at me.

  “Left a message earlier this week. My mother’s okay, I guess. I mean, they diagnosed her with arrhythmia. Apparently, she’s always had an irregular heartbeat, and that’s why she has adverse reactions to certain medications and stress. But whatever pills she was taking recently sped up her heart rate, and her heart couldn’t handle it. It wasn’t what her doctor prescribed, but they haven’t figured out what it was yet either. I think they’re more concerned with the diagnosis and treating her than finding the cause of the heart failure.”

  “But you want to know?” Arden deducts.

  “I’m pretty sure I already do.” When the girls stare at me in suspense, I take a sip of the martini. “Not exactly what it was, so I don’t want to say anything just yet. I need to talk to my pompous brother first.”

  Ashton sputters her martini everywhere, still unaware it’s the truth. “Your brother. That kills me.”

  I sigh. Me too.

  Hate tainted my heart. Corrupted my soul. Sought out someone to blame.

  Arden ended up having the party that she meant to host on Monday. She invited some of the girls from the social committee, and after a few drinks, I even talked to them.

  We danced and drank Arden’s funky purple martinis until curfew. Then Ashton snuck back to my room to join me and Arden for late-night snacks after check-in. We stayed up talking, laughing and watching a horrible movie that we made fun of until around two in the morning.

  Laughing feels good. I mean, not literally. It actually hurt. But being around these girls who have fought so hard to define themselves, discarding masks and defying expectations, is exactly what my conflicted conscience needed. It was the first time all week I didn’t feel like my temper could burn everything down. Okay, maybe my cry-fest with Mr. Garner had helped … a little. But these girls are my friends. And I only hope I’m a decent one in return.

  Arden and Ashton aren’t replacements for Nina and Tori. I know that. And I never want them to be. But I’m not convinced I’ll ever get Nina and Tori back even if we do end up speaking again. When trust is broken like that, on both sides, the threads that held us together will never be as strong. Nina had every right to her anger if she believed Parker was being unfaithful … if they were really a couple. But it was me. So I’m having a really hard time forgiving her for believing I’d betrayed her. She broke my heart. They both did.

  Tori knows me better than anyone. Or I thought she did. She knows I can’t lie and that I value my girlfriends above everyone. But she stood by her cousin, refusing to hear me out. They definitely broke my heart.

  When I arrive at the country club Saturday afternoon, it doesn’t feel like I’ve been gone at all. Until I hear Kaely squeal and nearly get knocked over when she attacks me in the locker room.

  “Lana! I’ve missed you so much! I cannot believe you got grounded! I tried and tried to call you, but they’re such dumb-butts at Blackwood and said I wasn’t approved. I was like, I’m her friend. Why the hell am I not approved?! I mean, I didn’t say that, but I thought it.”

  I gently unwrap her arms from around my neck. “I missed you too.”

  She stares at me in wonder, like she can’t believe I’m real. “So how’ve you been?”

  I struggle with how to answer with even a little bit of honesty and am relieved when Ashton struts in.

  “We’re working The Grille together, queens. Hell yes.”

  She holds her hands in the air for us to smack. I tap the right one lightly and eye her suspiciously. Kaely slaps her left hand five times in a row really fast, unable to contain her excitement.

  “Did you set this up on purpose?” I accuse with narrowed eyes.

  Ashton feigns innocence. “What are you talking about?”

  I think for a moment. She’s much too happy to be working at toddler hell on a Saturday. Something’s up.

  I face Kaely. “Who’s lifeguarding today?”

  “Um …” Kaely pauses for a second, and then her eyes light up like a firefly field. �
�Grant.”

  I glower at Ashton.

  “Time’s up,” she announces and saunters out the door.

  I race after her. “You cannot do anything. Not here.”

  “I won’t”—she smirks—“as long as you do.”

  “Ashton, I’m not going to tell him … you know … here while we’re working! Remember when I told you about Sophia’s Ball-vitation? I can’t. Please don’t do this.”

  “Oh, that was the sweetest,” Kaely recalls. “But so sad. I went in the bathroom and cried for her after he said no.”

  I point to Kaely as if she’s proof; although Compassion is Kaely’s curse. “See? I can’t do it here. It’s tacky and in bad taste. It’s supposed to be original, right?”

  “Oh, you’re asking Grant to the Ball?” Kaely chirps. “What are you wearing? We picked out outfits last week.”

  Ashton spins so suddenly, we practically plow into her. “Lance asked you?”

  Kaely nods, her anime eyes peering up at Ashton.

  “Why didn’t I know about this? What kind of fricken grand gesture is that if I don’t know about it?”

  “Um …” Kaely blinks rapidly, like she’s afraid to answer. “He took me out on the lake and floated these really pretty candles shaped like lilies around the canoe and then presented me with my favorite flavored cupcake—Oreo mocha chip—with a sparkler on top and sang my favorite Ed Sheeran song but changed the lyrics to ask me to go with him.”

  Ashton’s mouth drops open so wide, I can see her tonsils.

  “That is pretty fricken impressive,” I say, nodding in respect. “Go, Lance.”

  “I know, right?” Kaely gushes. “It was the most romantic night of my life—until I tipped the canoe over when I screamed and jumped on him.”

  I laugh.

  Ashton doesn’t look pleased. “I can’t believe you’re just telling me now.”

 

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