Rival (Briarcliff Secret Society Series Book 1)

by Ketley Allison

  Chase effortlessly tosses his phone, so it lands in front of me. “What if it all comes down to your protection? What if I’m causing you shit in order to distract you and prevent you from taking the path Piper did?”

  I hold up his phone for inspection, my grip tight. “Because there’s nothing that tells me you have my best interests at heart.”

  “Oh, no? Was yesterday not enough?”

  My cheeks warm. It’s one thing to think about it in silence, but when Chase brings it up, in that earthy, dirty voice of his, all the secret, pleasurable areas on my body tingle under his summons.

  “If you know something about Piper, you should go to the police, not dangle it in front of me like a rotten carrot,” I say.

  Chase’s phone flashes with a message from James, but I ignore it and swipe to his lock screen. He plucks it from my fingers, types in his code, then drops his phone back into my palm. “I have nothing to say to them. Those Dudley Do-Goods will never get to the bottom of it, and neither will you, sweet possum. Stop while you’re still receiving bouquets.”

  I frown at him, but my focus is on his photo library, scanning the tiles for anything dated yesterday that he could’ve sent himself from Riordan’s phone. No way would Chase leave it as Riordan’s sole responsibility. I also look for the day Piper died and any possible fight scenes. But Chase does not record his life in photos. All I see, as I scroll higher, are photos of him training on the water and a few with his arm slung around Piper’s shoulder—those caused a tug in my chest— and some random group shots in the dining hall, until my thumb stamps on the screen, stopping at a photo of me. Me. In Briarcliff’s foyer, staring up.

  “That’s…” I spin the phone’s screen to him. “Is this my first day? Did you take a picture of me?”

  Chase angles his head, his beatific angles in stark relief. “I took it without thinking.”

  I study the picture harder. He caught me at a flattering angle, my chin raised, my eyes wide with anxiety and curiosity. Chase had zoomed in, Piper and Headmaster Marron standing somewhere outside the frame.

  I appear vulnerable in my mom’s old college shirt and jeans. Too innocent for what was to come, despite the shadows of grief harboring in the hollows of my cheeks and the crescents under my eyes. Definitely too war-torn to be filed away as Chase’s pixelated prisoner.

  I find the Trash icon and send it in.

  “I deleted it.” I fling his phone, so it lands on his laptop with a tinned thump. “I’m not yours to save.”

  Chase’s brow angles up again. “In more ways than one, I assume.”

  A commotion splits my attention, and I see Eden picking up textbooks from the floor. Willow’s walking away, covering her mouth as she laughs, her auburn ponytail dancing.

  I push to my feet with a disgusted scowl, but say to Chase, “We’re done here, so long as whatever you caught with your wingman’s lens never sees the light of day. If it does, I’ll have the NYPD come down on your ass so hard, not even your lengthy appendage will be able to cushion it.”

  “I’m glad my cock made such an impression on you,” he responds, and my cheeks flame. I hate it when I speak before I think. Chase continues, “Take a minute to consider I might not want that video spread around, either. I don’t punch my friends in the face on the daily. What happened yesterday … it wasn’t expected. By any of us, I don’t think.”

  Chase waits for my reply, but I turn around instead, ashamed of my traitorous cheeks and the heat at the base of my throat.

  No, it wasn’t expected.

  And, damn it, it better not ever be reenacted, regardless of the determined, sexual promise in his hooded eyes as I walk away.

  37

  I tell myself I’m rushing to help Eden and not trying to outrun the angelic devil staring at my back.

  “Here,” I say once I reach her, bending to lift a textbook. “The filthy rich are clumsy fuckers, aren’t they?”

  Eden releases a mirthless laugh, but she covers her crestfallen expression by allowing a hank of dark hair to fall against her profile.

  “Eden,” I say, falling into stride with her and directing her to my table. “You’re crying.”

  “Not about that,” Eden says, dropping her books near mine. “That bitch has had it in for me for years.”

  “Then … can I help?” I sit beside Eden, in front of my stuff, and spin my legs to face hers. I keep my voice low, since we’re closer to the librarian’s monitoring scowl.

  “No. Not if you’re becoming one of them.” Eden focuses on positioning her books and laptop.

  I jolt. “Who? Like Willow? Hell-to-the-no, Eden.”

  Eden shakes her head. “With Chase. Nobody will say it to your face, but it hasn’t gone unnoticed that you’re trying to be Piper two-point-oh.”

  “I’m what?!”

  A loud SHUSH sounds out, and a quick check shows the librarian zoning in on me, a finger to her lips as her eyes grow small. I nod an apology but get back to Eden.

  “Eden, come on. Rumors swirl around here. I’m trying to figure out what happened to Piper, not take her place.”

  “Yeah, there’s that rumor, too. Our own Harriet the Spy.”

  “I thought I was more of a Lara Croft.”

  It works. Eden’s cheek—the part of it I can see—twitches with a smile.

  “Eden.” I risk a hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t shove me away, and I take that as encouragement. “I will never be like them. I don’t enjoy being bullied, but I’d never become the bully as a result. I’m not hanging out with the Witches of Briarcliff, and I’m talking to Chase because Piper died, and I’d like to know what happened. If you’re wondering why I’m involving myself in a bully’s death,” I say as Eden stiffens, “It’s in my bones. I can’t leave her death alone, not when I’m seeing what everyone else doesn’t.”

  Eden doesn’t argue or cut in. Her chin tilts ever so slightly in my direction. I continue. “Doesn’t this school seem like there’s poison in the wood that built it? In the forest? The water? I think Piper’s fall was orchestrated, not an accident, and not a crime of passion.”

  There. I said what I couldn’t even form into sentences for Chase. Briarcliff Academy’s responsible.

  Eden tucks her hair behind her ear, exposing her profile. She doesn’t look in my direction, maintaining her tunnel vision on her pile of texts.

  “Eden, I don’t know what it is, but my instinct is to trust you.”

  “Why?” Eden bites out the question.

  “Because everyone here wears a mask, but in the time I’ve known you, you’ve never put one on.”

  Eden’s lips part. “Have you told anyone else this theory?”

  I shake my head. Eden’s warming up to the conversation. If I bring up Ivy, I’m positive it will shut her down. “I’m only realizing it myself.”

  “Good. Don’t.” Eden turns, the force of her sage brown eyes as powerful as Mother Nature herself. “This place hides its iniquity, and it starts with your research paper on Rose Briar.”

  I gasp. “Wait. I’m right about Rose?”

  “The alumni, the rich, the privileged, the tenured, nobody gives a damn, so long as they get a diploma or a hefty paycheck.”

  I bend closer, our heads touching with this conspiracy. “What do you know?”

  “You have all the pieces, Callie. Put them together.”

  “Not when each person I encounter speaks to me in tongues!” I whisper through my teeth.

  “There’s a reason I notice certain things but stay quiet,” Eden says in a hushed voice. “I don’t belong here, and neither do you. So, you either become part of the crowd, or you stand out and get banished.”

  “By who, the Nobles?”

  Eden’s expression goes blank, but she keeps her eyes on mine. “You’ve figured out their name.”

  “The creepy guys who lurk around campus in cloaks? Yeah, you can say I’ve seen them.”

  Eden’s face falls. “You mean, they’ve seen you.”
<
br />   “Don’t you get all prophetic on me, Eden. Someone needs to give it to me straight, and I’m betting it’s you.”

  “I’m the one who sent you the video.”

  I stare at her. A ball of saliva lodges in my throat. I cough, and out of pity, she hands me her water thermos. I chug, then, as if my actions weren’t obvious, say, “What?”

  She repeats, “The video of you and Piper fighting. I sent it.”

  “Eden—why would you threaten me?”

  Eden rolls her eyes. “Please. If I wanted to intimidate you, I’d’ve tied you up, blindfolded you, and stuck you in one of the hidden tombs under the school.”

  I choke again, then pretend I didn’t.

  “I’m protecting you,” she says simply.

  “By sending me a recording that could get me in big trouble with the police?”

  “No, dummy. By sending you something someone else has. I’m telling you to be careful.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I stole that video from someone else’s phone. I’m quiet, remember. Unnoticed.”

  “Who?” My face goes numb as all the blood rushes to my chest. “Ivy?”

  Eden’s gaze flits to something over my shoulder, then back to mine. A freakish wave of anger crosses her face. She says in a wet whisper, “You’re so fucking clueless.”

  My back turns rigid. “Hey—”

  She adds, much louder, “If you’re so positive the ghost of Briarcliff Academy killed Piper, shut your mouth, you crazy slut.”

  I jerk back. “Eden, what?”

  “Take my advice. Stop earning the name Asylum Possum.”

  I balk. “That’s a thing?”

  Eden stands, but bends her head close. “Piper wasn’t a Noble,” she whispers as she puts her elbows into hefting up the books. “She was a Virtue.”

  “Wh—?”

  I’m stopped from finishing the question when I follow Eden’s path. Falyn leans over the librarian’s desk, so obviously inattentive to what the librarian’s saying, it’s a wonder the woman keeps talking.

  Falyn’s assessing stare follows Eden as she exits the library. Eden darts a single look at Falyn, then glances once more at me before walking through the doors, as if communicating the reason for her sudden outburst.

  Falyn was watching us.

  I pretend to have an itchy cheek, then spin in my seat until I’m facing my computer and my back is to Falyn, but my fingers hover over the keys.

  Piper. A Virtue? WTF, Eden?

  As if that’s not enough, Eden blows my mind further by letting me know she’s the one who sent me the incriminating video in the same tone she uses to answer basic questions in class.

  Like it’s nothing.

  But she stole those videos from someone else…

  It all starts with your research paper on Rose Briar. And Rose created a society with a V … the Virtues.

  I fall back against the chair.

  Everyone else is researching the founders, too. This can’t be the first time someone chose Rose. Why did I get stuck with Piper’s theories about a secretive woman concocting plans to go against her husband’s secret gentlemen’s club?

  Ugh. My head hurts.

  I whip my attention over my shoulder in an effort to mentally will Eden back here but meet Falyn’s acute stare instead.

  Grimacing and slamming back against my seat, I figure I have another long night of reading between the lines ahead of me.

  38

  Who, in all the hells, am I supposed to trust around here?

  It’s safe to say that studying at M.B.S. Library of Studies is a no-go, not with Falyn lurking curiously behind my back and Chase hovering dangerously in my horizon.

  Before Briarcliff, I was a straight-A, determined student, and I’m not willing to give that up. Briarcliff and all its hidden passages isn’t my future. College is.

  My cavernous, two-person dorm room with one resident (me) is the best place to get my shit done, but it’s also the loneliest. Even Piper’s cold, superficial heart was better company than the invisible spirit that’s taken her place.

  You have no friends.

  Chase is wrong. I may be able to count the people at Briarcliff I’ve endeared myself to on one finger, but she’s worth it, because Ivy greets me with a toothy smile the instant I step through Thorne House’s doors.

  “Hey!” she says, rounding the check-in desk. My worries that she was who Eden got the video from lessen in her presence. She can’t be the one who filmed it. She was at a crew meeting that evening. “I was looking for you this morning.”

  “All you missed was my sad attempt to get some studying done at the library,” I say.

  “M.B.S. Library, also known as the G.P.S. for the latest gossip.”

  I raise my brows. “And here I thought the single juicy tidbit I had revolved around its name.”

  “Briarcliff named it after the Stone family, yeah. They’re deep in Briarcliff’s pockets, tracing back to the founding,” Ivy says, propping her hip against the desk as I come to stop in front of her. “In fact, it was through some of their ancestors’ trusts they gifted the library, not Chase's parents alone.”

  “There’s my missing piece!” I hold up my index finger. “I was wondering how they got so much money to construct a new library.”

  Ivy nods, and I’m assaulted with guilt. What did I say to Eden? That she’s the one who doesn’t wear a mask around here. But Ivy's never been anything but kind to me, welcoming my presence when the majority didn’t, not to mention, eagerly providing me with information.

  Why then, do I hold my heart back? Is it because of the one moment we’ve had where she stood back and watched me get attacked by Piper? I gotta admit, that one hurt.

  Ivy adds, “Because the old one burned down. It’s a crazy story.”

  I smile wryly, remembering Darla’s, the public librarian’s, words. “Don’t tell me. Briarcliff has another sinister secret to tell?”

  Ivy smiles back. “In due time. Where rich people go, scandals follow, and there’s many that would make you cringe.”

  “Now you have me intrigued. Hey…” I hesitate. “Wanna come up and pretend to have a study sesh with me while you tell me all about it?”

  Ivy makes a pained sound. “Can’t. I have fifteen minutes left on my shift, then some mat work.”

  “Mat work?”

  “Gotta keep this body bangin’,” Ivy jokes. “Crew may be off-season, but we still train just as hard in the gym.”

  I nod in understanding, even though the boathouse resembles a Resort & Spa Lounge, not a high school fitness center. “No problem. I’ll see you around.”

  “Wait.” Ivy glances around, as if her boss is about to materialize from a corner at any second. “I can knock off for fifteen. I’ll grab one of your snacks and tell you about the burning, then head out.”

  I snort, but then smile as Ivy pulls out an OUT TO BREAK bronze placard and places it on the desk. “You make it sound like a witch hunt.”

  “It kinda was.” Ivy wrinkles her nose. “Involving the most popular girl in school.”

  My eyes go wide. “Piper?”

  “No, Piper didn’t become cool until ninth grade when she started hanging out with Chase. She was invisible before then, but once they started dating, it’s like she changed the narrative of the school’s social order and crowned them both Prince and Princess of Briarcliff.”

  “How come we haven’t talked about this before?”

  Ivy presses the elevator call button. “Why are you interested? Because it could relate to your insane obsession with Piper’s fall?”

  “Well … yeah.” We step into the elevator.

  “I dunno. Maybe because you’ve been so focused on the days leading up to Piper’s death, and not two years before.”

  I make a noncommittal sound, despite the obvious opening to tell Ivy about Piper’s diary. It never seems like the time.

  We step out onto my floor, and I’m staring at my shoe
s as we walk. I wish I could enjoy my time at Briarcliff and stop with the questions and suspicion. I could get to know Ivy better, as well as her friends who sit with us during meals. I could talk to Eden like I want to get to know her, instead of pressing her for information she’s reluctant to give. I could be a senior and make senior memories before scoring a diploma at an elite private school, getting into college, and leaving the East Coast far behind.

  And never solve shit, the meaner part of my mind hisses. Just like your mom’s murder.

  “Earth to Callie, we’re at your door. Unless you’re thinking of busting through the emergency exit straight ahead.” Ivy nudges me lightly.

  “Sorry,” I say. I dig out my keycard and blip us in, our footsteps seeming to echo once we leave the carpeted hallway and enter my furniture-less main room.

  “When did they say the couch would be delivered?” Ivy asks, reading my thoughts. “Or the TV?”

  “Tomorrow, thankfully,” I say, dropping my backpack by the kitchenette counter. “Make yourself comfy on my bed, the only piece of furniture I own at the moment that can fit two people. I’ll be in there with some guac and chips in a sec.”

  “’Kay.” Ivy wanders over to my room, which, out of habit, I still keep shut.

  She pushes it open, and screams.

  39

  The glass bowl of guac I was keeping fresh in the fridge crashes to the floor, and I slip in the green goop as I hurry into my room.

  “Ivy!” I cry. “What? What is it—?”

  I slide to a stop in front of her, then hang on to her arm for dear life.

  Ivy’s gasping beside me, her face bone white. Her free hand goes to her mouth, and her skin is cold beneath mine.

  As chilled as the blood that stops coursing through my body when I see what’s scattered across my bedding.

  Photos. A ton of pictures printed on A4 paper, blanketing my bed to the point where no one would know the color of my lavender sheets.

  They’re spread across my sheets, taped on my wall above the headboard, and plastered over every flat surface I have.