Devious

by Cecily von Ziegesar

  And she’d been a complete bitch to him in return.

  “Excuse me,” Brett murmured, getting to her feet and grabbing her coat. She didn’t even bother to return the art book to its shelf. Why had she been so quick to assume the worst? She had no reason not to trust him, and yet she hadn’t even given him a chance to explain.

  Brett raced out of the library, earning her a cranky warning from Mrs. Birdsall, and practically jogged over to Sebastian’s dorm, slowing down only to catch her breath at the front door. The senior guys watching some lame Seth Rogen movie in the common room stared at her as she stalked by. When she got to his door, she paused. What was she going to say? She’d promised not to do this again. Was she determined to ruin every relationship she got into?

  The door opened. Sebastian stood there, shirtless, in a pair of black Calvin Klein pajama bottoms. On his stereo, opera music was playing. “Were you ever going to knock? Or you planning on standing in the hall all day?”

  Brett blinked, trying not to stare at Sebastian’s lean, muscular chest. “I was trying to figure out the best way to apologize to you.”

  Sebastian stepped back, leaning against the back of his desk chair. “What’d you come up with?” His voice wasn’t cold, exactly, but it was distant. Although she certainly deserved it.

  “I’m sorry.” Her heart was still beating like crazy from her run over here. She had to speak in short, clipped sentences. “I acted like an insane person. I’m really, really sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain. Or, rather, that I jumped to conclusions in the first place. It’s just… I got a little… nervous, when I started to realize how many girls you’ve dated. I wasn’t really sure how I fit in.”

  Sebastian pressed his lips together. “I told you how you fit in, remember? I told you that you were the only one who mattered.”

  “I know.” Brett tried to take a deep breath of air. “I guess, the truth is…” She trailed off, not sure she wanted to admit this. But she had to be honest. She owed him that much. “I cheated on my last boyfriend. And he cheated on me. And so I’m not totally sure… I trust anyone anymore.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “Hey, crazy lady. I know you have a ton of baggage—I could tell that the first time I saw you.”

  Brett giggled. “You could not.” She saw the framed photograph of his grandmother on his desk, standing in front of some tiny Italian restaurant. How could she ever have doubted him? Maybe because things were going so well between them, she panicked and took the easy way out—running before she got in too deep. But as he smiled at her with his full lips, she realized she was already in too deep.

  And she liked it.

  “Here’s the thing,” Sebastian said, touching Brett’s elbow and pulling her toward him. “It’s not that hard. You like me. I like you. Done.”

  Brett unwound the kelly green scarf she’d hastily thrown around her neck. “Do you really think it’s that simple?”

  “With you?” Sebastian shrugged his shoulders, suddenly looking a little embarrassed, like he had over Christmas break when she’d found the worn-out teddy bear on his bookshelf. “Yeah, I do. It’s not like I’ve, you know, ever felt this way before.”

  An explosion of warmth spread through Brett’s body. “Really?” she squeaked.

  “Really.” Sebastian’s dark eyes met Brett’s, and the warmth deepened. She stepped toward him, touching his arm with her gloved hand. He grinned at her, his familiar, amused smile. “Why else would I put up with your general craziness?”

  Brett tucked her head against his strong chest. He smelled like he’d just stepped out of the shower. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

  “Definitely not,” Sebastian replied firmly, putting his hands on her shoulders and squeezing gently. “You’ve got to work a little harder than that.” But then his fake frown turned back into his devilish grin.

  Brett sighed happily and stepped toward him, until their bodies were almost, but not quite, touching. “I have a few ideas about how to make it up to you.”

  Instant Message Inbox

  BennyCunningham: Did U see Jenny this morning? She still hasn’t heard from the dean.

  SageFrancis: That’s messed up. Getting caught is bad enough. But when the party thrower gets off free, that’s ridiculous.

  BennyCunningham: U know it’s because the dean’s son’s in love with her.

  SageFrancis: Or her giant boobs.

  BennyCunningham: Those are unfair, too!

  27

  A SMART OWL NEVER APPROACHES THE DEAN WITHOUT A PLAN.

  Jenny stared miserably at the untouched hummus wrap on her tray. She had absolutely no appetite. She’d come late to lunch, having spent the entire morning in the art studio. It was the perfect place to avoid just about everyone, and Jenny had the entire, loftlike space to herself. But she just couldn’t concentrate on her artwork. She was completely consumed with anxiety, checking her phone every five minutes to see if the dean had e-mailed her. Nothing. As crazy as it was, she kept hoping that maybe he’d saved a special punishment, just for her, for planning the party. But it looked like Isaac had completely saved her.

  Across the dining hall, Benny and Verena sat at a small, round table. As Jenny headed toward them, they both stood up and pointedly headed to the tray return, even though their sandwiches were only half eaten. Jenny sighed at the brush-off. At least Callie was too distracted with Easy’s return to be annoyed with Jenny. When they were at the bathroom sinks that morning, Callie had started brushing her teeth without putting any toothpaste on her brush. Jenny had to wave her tube of Crest in front of her roommate’s face before she realized it. Callie was normally slow in the mornings, but this was something else.

  Across the dining hall, a table of freshmen whispered and pointed at Jenny. It made her stomach turn. She stood up, returned her tray with her uneaten lunch, and stormed out of the dining hall.

  Five minutes later, she found herself knocking on the door of Dean Dresden’s office.

  “Come in,” his voice bellowed. Timidly, she pushed open the door. His office was completely transformed from the other day. The walls had been painted a rich sunflower yellow—the color Jenny had suggested that first day she met with him. The shelves had been filled with books of all shapes and sizes, and an antique globe sat on a dark wood stand in the corner. An elegantly aged Oriental rug covered most of the previously bare hardwood floor.

  “Oh, hello, Jenny.” Dean Dresden looked up from the new flat-screen monitor that sat in the middle of his desk. He leaned back in his chair. “How are you doing today?”

  Jenny blinked at the dean’s friendliness. There was no trace of anger in his distinguished-looking face. “I’m… okay.” She stepped forward, nervously adjusting her knee-length pleated skirt. “But I just wanted to ask you something.”

  “Ask away.”

  Jenny took a deep breath. Her boots were leaving wet footprints on his expensive-looking rug. “I was wondering when I was going to, um, get my punishment for the party.”

  The dean took a giant breath and clicked something with his mouse. “Jenny, let’s not worry about this one.” For the first time, she noticed a hard edge in his grayish-green eyes, as if he were the one who was slightly uncomfortable.

  “But… why?”

  The dean nodded slowly, smoothing down his navy-and-yellow-striped tie. The window behind him looked out over the quad, and Jenny could see a bunch of kids building a giant snow fort. She wished she were out there with them right now. But then she realized a few of them were probably on academic probation. And it was all her fault. “Look, I know you’re a good kid, and I believe in second chances.”

  “But what about everyone else?” If Jenny deserved a second chance, so did all the other people who got busted. “What about their second chances?”

  “Academic probation means they’re getting a second chance.” The dean pursed his lips. “Isaac said you didn’t know anything about the party. Was that not true?”

  Je
nny’s face flushed bright red. It was sweet of Isaac to cover for her, and it was definitely flattering that he wanted to protect her. But that didn’t mean it was fair. For a moment, she thought about what fessing up would mean. It would mean having to tell her father she was on academic probation. It would mean she couldn’t mess up again.

  But if she kept her mouth shut, everyone would continue to resent her. Everyone, including all the friends she’d struggled to make here at Waverly.

  She took a deep breath. “Dean Dresden, Isaac only said that to protect me. The party was all my fault. If I hadn’t suggested it to Isaac, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

  The dean stood up and leaned over his desk. He was staring at Jenny curiously. “Jenny, are you sure you know what you’re saying?”

  Jenny nodded her head firmly, even though she couldn’t quite meet the dean’s eyes. “Yes. The party was my idea, and I’m so sorry about it. I don’t deserve any special treatment. I’d like to take the probation along with everyone else.”

  Guiltily, she wondered if Isaac was sweeping up broken glass and washing out wineglasses. They’d planned to send everyone home with enough time to clean up the party before the dean and his wife returned, but obviously that plan hadn’t worked. “And if you need someone to help clean up your house, I’m happy to do it.”

  Dean Dresden shook his head sternly and rubbed his chin. “In all my years at various schools, I think this is a first. A student coming to me, asking to be punished.” He shook his head, appraising Jenny, looking surprised but maybe—just maybe—a little impressed. “But, as you know, this party was a serious lapse in judgment. My daughter was almost gravely injured.”

  “I realize that,” Jenny said softly, staring at her toes.

  The dean cleared his throat. “I’ll see you Monday morning at eight A.M., along with everybody else.” His voice was stern.

  Jenny smiled weakly, grateful it was all over. Being on probation wasn’t going to be fun, but at least she could look people in the eye again.

  It had never felt so good to be in trouble.

  28

  A WAVERLY OWL KNOWS THAT IT’S NOT ALWAYS EASY TO ERASE THE PAST.

  Tinsley woke up late on Sunday morning, the brilliant noon sun peeking through the broken window blind. Her mouth felt like some animal had died in it—a sensation that, as a vegetarian, was all the more offensive to her. She grabbed the almost-empty bottle of Evian next to her bed and took a swig, then quickly swallowed two Advils. Her head was pounding.

  She rolled out of bed, her bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. The room was empty, and Brett’s bed was neatly made. Tinsley raised the blinds, yawning. Last night, a fresh snow had fallen, and the quad was filled with happy Waverly Owls, playing some kind of capture-the-flag game. Although she normally didn’t go for spirit-building campus activities, right now she kind of wished she could throw on her snow boots and tackle someone into the snow.

  Preferably, a lying, two-faced, spoiled-brat dean’s daughter.

  The worst part wasn’t that she was in trouble—she’d been in trouble plenty of times before. It was that she had been stupid enough to throw away what she had with Julian for someone like Isla. Someone who would stab her in the back the first chance she got. She still couldn’t believe that after selling her out, Isla had the nerve to claim that Tinsley would have done the same thing to her.

  The more Tinsley thought about it, though, the more she realized that once upon a time, maybe she would have. After she dropped Julian’s lighter and started the fire that burned down the barn on Miller’s farm that fall, she’d maneuvered to pin the whole thing on Jenny. Just because Julian had liked Jenny. It was stupid and childish, but Tinsley had learned her lesson.

  And there was a reason she’d changed, for the better. Julian.

  She flipped through the printouts she’d made of the photos, looking at the all the beautiful pictures of her and Isla. They were gorgeous, all right, but now they seemed so pointless. It was two pretty, attention-grabbing girls acting like prima donnas in front of the entire student population of Waverly. It had been an excuse to look beautiful and show off, and nothing more.

  Tinsley paused at one photo. Her, alone, wearing the red bikini and placing a top hat on the snowman. She had her face tilted toward the camera, and she was laughing. It was a goofy picture, more cute than sexy—she was giggling hysterically, and, despite the bikini, she kind of looked like a kid who loved to play in the snow. But suddenly she knew there was only one person she wanted to see it. She tore the rest of the printouts in half, tossing the pieces into her trash can. She’d take her time deleting every single one of the pictures from her camera later.

  Without bothering to shower, she jumped into her favorite pair of True Religion jeans. Then she crammed her feet into her tennis sneakers and pulled on her puffy red Guess jacket over her black Calvin Klein tank top. On her way out the door, she didn’t even glance in the mirror.

  Julian was just stepping out the front door of his dorm when Tinsley raced up. He had on a navy knit cap with a wide red stripe, pulled down low on his forehead. “Hey,” Tinsley said nervously, slowing down. A black leather camera bag was slung over his shoulder. “Where are you going?”

  Julian didn’t pause as he descended the brick steps leading down from his dorm. He gave Tinsley a noncommittal smile. “Meeting up with Alan. Working on our movie.”

  “Listen, can we talk?” Tinsley stepped in front of him so he was forced to stop.

  “Funny you want to talk now.” He paused, staring straight into Tinsley’s eyes. His golden-brown eyes gazed at her as if she were a stranger, and Tinsley’s heart sunk. “You weren’t too interested in it the other night when I wanted to talk.”

  “Please don’t be like that. I’m sorry.” Tinsley’s ankles were freezing, and she suddenly felt stupid, standing in front of the freshmen boys’ dorm without any socks on, begging forgiveness from the guy she’d so stupidly dumped.

  “Sorry for what? For breaking up with me because I hated the idea of having the entire male population of the school, which has, by the way, been in love with you for practically forever, gawk at pictures of your nearly naked body?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared into the distance. Tinsley could see the snowman in front of the gym that she and Isla had used in their first photo shoot. Someone had stolen the sticks that had been his arms, and he looked sad without them. “Because someone newer and more interesting came along?”

  “That’s not what happened,” Tinsley insisted, feeling her stomach start to quake. “I just… didn’t want to be one of those, you know. Sweatpants couples.”

  “Sweatpants couples?” Julian’s eyes widened. He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, and Tinsley reached out to touch his sleeve. She couldn’t let him put sunglasses on—she needed to see his familiar brown eyes, she needed to tell what he was thinking. He left them in his pocket but stepped away from Tinsley, letting her hand fall back to her side. “What does that even mean?”

  “You know.” Tinsley shuffled her feet. Her tennis shoes were slippery against the snow. “Those couples who spend all their time together watching movies and eating Cheez Doodles and missing out on everything.”

  “You’re right,” Julian replied sarcastically. “That sounds exactly like us.”

  Tinsley shook her head. It did sound silly now, and she wished she could turn back the clock and tell him about everything earlier, before things got so messed up. “And they get fat, because they just order in pizza all the time. And then they can only wear sweatpants, because they’re fat and lazy.”

  Julian turned to face Tinsley. He looked shocked. “Is that what you think I want? To steal you from all your friends and make you fat and lazy?”

  “No!”

  Julian started walking away from the dorm, and Tinsley was forced to follow him. They passed a couple of underclassmen carrying black musical instrument cases. “You’re twisting my words when I’m t
rying to apologize.”

  “I’m trying to understand you, Tinsley.” He shook his head slowly as he stared straight ahead. Tinsley had to hurry to keep up with his long strides. “Because, you know, you can never just tell me what you’re feeling. Why didn’t you say this to me before you broke up with me?” He pulled his knit cap lower down on his head. “Three weeks ago, you were breaking up with me because I wasn’t a virgin—and you didn’t give me a reason then, either. Or a chance to explain.”

  “I…” Tinsley opened her mouth, but nothing else came out. He was right, in a way. But that was only part of the story. Two overfed squirrels scampered across the path and Tinsley fought the urge to kick snow at them.

  Julian stopped walking. He took a deep breath as he played with the zipper on his coat. The dimple beneath his lips was nowhere in sight. “Look. I really like you. I might even be in love with you. But I can’t keep doing this. You get mad at me. You don’t tell me why. You break up with me. You come back and apologize. Then it starts all over again.”

  “You’re breaking up… with me?” Tinsley’s knees buckled. Further up the path, she saw the bench where she’d first met Isla. She wished it was closer, because she felt like she might pass out. It couldn’t be over with Julian. Not for real.

  “You broke up with me, remember?” Julian took a deep breath. “I’m just not giving you a chance to do it again.” He turned to walk away.

  “Wait!” Tinsley felt her heart in her mouth. He couldn’t leave her like this.

  “I’m sorry,” Julian said, his voice sadder than she’d ever heard. He leaned forward, and Tinsley’s heart leaped. But he just pressed his lips to her cheek and gave her a quick peck before he spun around and walked, very quickly, away.