by Wendi Wilson
“What happened at the river?” I asked.
I was not going to thank her. First of all, I didn’t need her help dealing with Jonas. I handled him just fine on my own. Secondly, I still didn’t trust her motives. It was just too weird, having her be friendly after nearly twelve years of snubbing me and laughing at Fiona’s cruel remarks.
“I can’t tell you the details,” she said with a conspiratorial grin, “or I’ll lose my leverage over him. But let’s just say, it involved a strong current, a broken drawstring, and a less than impressive reveal.” She raised a pinky into the air.
“Oh my God,” I said, flinching at the thought of Jonas losing his shorts. I’d probably have nightmares for a month had I seen that.
“Anyway, I better get going, or else Ms. Halibut will give me detention. See ya later,” she said, sauntering off with a small wave.
“Bye,” I murmured, my brow wrinkling.
I headed back to Chemistry, relieved to see Mr. Gillespie had assigned a group project again. The students were all broken into groups, and I saw the boys had circled up with my empty desk. I hurried over and slid into my chair.
“About time,” Wyatt said. “We were about to send out a search party.”
“What took you so long?” Jett asked.
“Are you okay?” Beckett added.
I held up a hand to silence them. “I’m fine. I ran into Lizzie and Jonas in the hallway.”
Jett snarled and the other two followed suit. They once had front row seats to Jonas’s treatment of me, but they also saw me take care of him myself. No matter how badass I was, they always felt the need to protect me. It would be funny if it wasn’t so exasperating.
“Retract the fangs,” I said, smiling. Vampire jokes. “I’m fine. He was a jackwagon, as usual. But the weird thing is, Lizzie totally stood up for me. She has something over his head, and she threatened him with exposure if he didn’t leave me alone.”
“That is strange,” Beckett muttered.
“Right?” I asked, looking at the other two. “I can’t believe I’m suggesting this, but I think one of you should persuade her to tell us why she’s being so nice. It’s like she’s had a personality makeover and I don’t trust it. I don’t trust her.”
Jett shot me one of his arrogant smiles. “I do think we’ve been a bad influence on you, Savanna James. Suggesting we use persuasion on an innocent girl? For shame.”
“Oh, shut it,” I said, kicking out at his legs playfully before growing serious. “What do you guys think?”
“I think you’re right,” Wyatt said.
I looked at Beckett. He would be the least likely to agree to the scheme, the one most resistant to using his power. He stared into my eyes for a moment before nodding.
“I agree,” he said. “It is strange. She’s pretty much cut Fiona out of her life, too.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“I saw Fiona following her down the hall this morning, begging Lizzie to talk to her. Lizzie stopped and told her to let it go and get over it before walking off, leaving Fiona standing there. I swear, I saw her wipe her eyes as she turned and marched in the other direction.”
I glanced over at Fiona, who was grouped up with two other popular kids. She was smiling and laughing, acting completely normal. I narrowed my eyes before looking back at Beckett.
“That could’ve been staged for your benefit,” I said.
“Maybe,” he conceded, “but it looked real enough. That’s why I think you’re right. We should persuade Lizzie and get the truth out of her.”
Jett and Wyatt nodded, agreeing with their brother. I returned the gesture, sealing the deal. We were going to find out what Lizzie Williams was up to, one way or another.
I sat between Wyatt and Beckett, my knee bouncing in agitation. The ham sandwich Beckett brought me for lunch sat untouched in front of me. My stomach was twisted in knots with nervous tension.
We assumed that Lizzie would try to sit with us again, like she did the Friday before. If she was, in fact, playacting, she wouldn’t want to ruin the ruse by ignoring me or sitting with Fiona in public. We purposely left Jett on one side by himself, with me flanked by the other two. She’d have no choice but to sit by him, and he was the best at using persuasion.
I looked over my shoulder for the seventeenth time, scanning the stream of students trickling in for Lizzie’s dark head. Sighing, I turned back around. Wyatt put his palm on my knee, applying enough pressure to stop its incessant bouncing.
“Relax,” Jett said. “She’ll show.”
“And if she doesn’t,” Wyatt added, “we’ll catch her next time she approaches you.”
I forced my body to relax and picked up my sandwich. I took a bite, unable to conceal my moan of pleasure. Beckett made the best sandwiches, baking the bread himself. I looked over at him, smiling as I chewed.
“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling back.
“Hey,” Lizzie said, coming out of nowhere and sliding in next to Jett.
I coughed up a crumb that I inhaled and took a drink of milk. I felt my face heat up. I always seemed to embarrass myself while eating. They couldn’t take me anywhere. Not and be proud.
“You okay?” Lizzie asked, concern etched on her face.
I nodded, waving a hand around. “I’m fine.” I tapped my throat. “You just scared me and it went down the wrong pipe.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, offering me a smile. “I’ll give plenty of forewarning next time.”
“Thanks,” I said, forcing my lips into a smile.
“Lizzie,” Jett said, drawing her attention. Once he had eye contact, he asked, “Why are you being so nice to Savanna?”
She didn’t move. Barely breathed. Locked in by those silver eyes, she spoke in hushed tones.
“Because I am a nice person.” She said, her voice slightly monotone. “I don’t like the way Fiona has always treated her and I finally broke free of that bitch. I want to start over. I want to be friends.”
“Forget I asked,” he said, then broke eye contact.
“So, what are you guys doing Friday night?” Lizzie asked, apparently unaware of what had just transpired. “My parents will be out of town and I’m throwing a party. It’s going to be epic.”
Lizzie’s parties were legendary. Even I had heard about them. I never expected to be invited to one. I never had a desire to go. And I still didn’t.
“Epic, huh?” Wyatt said, drawing my attention.
His eyes were shining with excitement. He looked over at me, attempting to maintain a neutral expression, but failing.
“What do you think, Savanna?” he asked, unable to keep the hope from his voice.
I turned to look at Beckett, question in my eyes. He shrugged like he didn’t really care whether we went or not. Glancing across at Jett, I studied his blank expression.
“It’s up to you,” he said.
“Come on, Savanna. It’ll be so much fun,” Lizzie pleaded.
“Okay. We’ll come,” I said.
Lizzie clapped her hands, a huge, cheesy smile on her face. “Great,” she said. “Give me your phone and I’ll text myself so we have each other’s numbers.”
I rifled through my purse until my fingers clamped around the smooth surface of my phone. Something in my gut clenched as I handed it over. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but I had a feeling that giving Lizzie access to me and my boys was the beginning of something. And not a good something.
After a few taps of the screen, she handed my phone back across the table and picked up her own. Her fingertips flew across the screen and my text alert chimed. I looked at my phone. Lizzie added her contact info and texted me her address.
She stood from the table, adjusting the hem of her skirt. “The party’s at nine. Catch you later,” she said, wiggling her fingers at me as she turned and walked away.
“Okay, that was weird,” I said once she was out of earshot.
“Maybe she’s being sincere,” Wyatt sa
id. “I mean, Jett persuaded her to tell the truth. You heard her, she wants to be friends.”
“Yes, I heard her,” I said, arching a brow at Wyatt. “You seem awfully eager to accept her.”
I tried to keep my voice level and emotionless. Really, I did. I may have even fooled anyone else, but not these three. They could read me like a book.
Jett arched a brow.
Beckett shook his head.
Wyatt laughed.
“Are you jealous, Savanna from Savannah?” he asked.
“No.” My voice sounded defensive, even to my own ears.
Wyatt scooted in closer, wrapping an arm around my back. “It’s a party, Savanna. Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve been to a party?”
“I’ve never been to one,” I mumbled.
“All the more reason to go,” he insisted. “We’ll be there with you.”
“Not that you need us to protect you,” Jett added.
I looked at Beckett. He smiled and said, “It could be fun.”
“Okay,” I sighed. “Let’s do it.”
Wyatt pumped a fist in triumph before releasing me and scooting back to his previous position on the bench. While I missed the feel of his arm around me, I was also glad. We were still maintaining the illusion that I was only friends with them. Wyatt’s penchant for the touchy-feely PDA’s had threatened that illusion more times than I could count in the last couple of months.
I couldn’t hide my feelings for the three of them forever. I knew that. I just wasn’t quite ready for the public stoning that would commence once we broadcasted the truth. Not yet.
Chapter Seven
“Sit with me for a minute. I haven’t seen you since yesterday morning.”
“Okay, but I only have a few minutes. I have to get ready,” I said, sliding into the chair across the table form my Mom.
“Oh, yes. The big party. Are you excited?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
Mom’s eyebrows shot up. “It doesn’t sound like you even want to go.”
“I do,” I said. “I guess I’m just nervous. Lizzie’s parties are infamous for being huge and all those kids have never exactly accepted me.”
“I have no doubt you can hold your own. And the boys will be there, right?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay, well, you know they won’t let you out of their sight, so you won’t be alone. Just put yourself out there, Honey. Maybe this olive branch Lizzie handed you is just what you needed.”
“You’re right. Thanks, Mom,” I said.
But I didn’t really agree with her. After more than a decade, I didn’t expect one person’s actions to change the opinions of the rest of the school. And I didn’t really care.
My lips curved up. Mom did make me feel better, just not in the way she intended. She reminded me that I was strong and independent and that my self-esteem didn’t rely on the opinions or actions of my peers. The only people that mattered to me were my mom and dad.
And my boyfriends.
“How was your appointment last night?” Mom asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
I shrugged. “Same old, same old.”
“Were there other patients there again?” she asked.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Back to business, as usual.”
She didn’t respond, but the furrow in her brow told me she was still troubled by my appointment the week before. Hell, I was still troubled by it. A shiver ran down my spine. Those people gave me a bad vibe…one that still bothered me a week later.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked, changing the subject.
“He got called in to work,” she said with a pout. “Night shift.”
“I can stay home with you, if you want,” I offered, exaggerating the hope in my voice.
She laughed. “Go,” she said, shooing me from the kitchen. “Call me if you need help choosing an outfit.”
I groaned and shuffled down the hall. I was not looking forward to searching my closet for something suitable to wear. It’s not like Lizzie’s party required formal wear or anything, but I knew everyone would be dressed stylish and cute.
Two things I definitely was not.
I flipped on my bedroom light and froze. Spread across my bed were several articles of clothing, tags still attached. I moved closer, my eyes trailing over a pair of blue jeans with holes ripped strategically down the legs, a cream-colored sweater, a short, black skirt and red, flowy top that was cut to hang off one shoulder.
“I wasn’t sure which outfit you’d like better, so I bought them both.”
I twirled around at the sound of my mom’s voice. She was leaning against my doorjamb, a smile lifting one side of her mouth. She straightened and moved further into the room, coming to stand beside me.
“Do you like them?” she asked.
I threw my arms around her, squeezing tight. “I love them. Thanks, Mom.”
She laughed, pulling away from me. “What do you think?” she asked, picking up the skirt and holding it against my waist.
I looked down, arching a brow. “It’s awfully short, isn’t it?” At least six inches of thigh would be visible beneath the hem.
“The sales girl assured me this is the popular style,” she said, arching a brow. “I guess I didn’t take into account how long your legs are. Jeans, it is!”
I laughed as she dropped the skirt to the floor and picked up the jeans with a flourish. She held them up in front of her and looked in the mirror.
“These are so cute. I should have bought a pair for myself.”
I laughed. “Then we could be twins,” I said, checking the time on my phone. “Ugh, I better hop in the shower or I’m gonna be late.”
“Okay, then. I’ll let you get to it,” she said, walking out.
I rushed through my shower, careful to keep my hair out of the spray. I didn’t have time to wash and dry it, so I sprayed some dry shampoo on my roots and shook it out. I smiled at my reflection. Second-day hair always looked better, anyway. I patted on some face powder before swiping mascara across my lashes. I picked up my lip gloss but changed my mind and dug a tube of mauve lipstick from my make-up drawer.
“A Lizzie Williams party calls for real lipstick,” I murmured as I smoothed the color on my lips.
Flipping off the light, I sprinted across the hall to my room to get dressed. The jeans my mom bought me fit like a second skin. They sat low on my hips and my skin showed through the rips in the tight denim. I pulled the cream sweater over my head, careful to keep the material away from my face. I didn’t want to get makeup on it.
Looking in the mirror, I arched a brow at my reflection as I turned back and forth. The sweater was short and the pants were low-slung, leaving an inch or more of bare skin showing. I raised my arms into the air and the hem of the sweater lifted, showing nearly my entire belly.
I decided to change. I couldn’t go to that party half naked. I grabbed the bottom of the sweater, prepared to pull it back over my head then paused to look at myself again. I looked good. Really good.
I imagined the Patton brothers’ reaction to seeing me like this. Stylish. Tight fit. Showing some skin. Beckett would blush, for sure. Wyatt would probably wolf-whistle and make a bunch funny, yet inappropriate comments. Jett might even lose his cool.
That decided it. I was not going to change. I’d just have to be careful to keep my arms down. With one last spin in front of the mirror, I grabbed my Doc Marten boots and headed down the hall.
“What are you wearing?”
My dad’s voice startled me and a squeak flew from my mouth. Placing a palm against my heart, I turned toward the door to the kitchen and said, “Dad! You scared me.”
“Sorry, Pumpkin,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Does your mother know you’re wearing that out of the house?”
I looked down at myself. “You don’t like it?” I asked.
“It’s awfully short,” he said. “And tight.”
I laughe
d. “Well, you’ll have to talk to Mom. She bought it for me.”
“Oh, Honey, you look beautiful,” my mom gushed as she squeezed by my dad to get to me. She looked back at him. “Doesn’t she look gorgeous, Roman?”
I arched a brow at Dad, daring him to contradict her. He shook his head, but his lips pulled upward as he spoke. “Yes, she looks beautiful. But she always looks good.” Then he mumbled, “Even without showing so much skin.”
Mom ignored his grumbling, keeping her eyes on me. “Have fun tonight, Savanna, but be careful.” She smoothed my hair, pushing it back over my shoulder. “I love you, Sweetie.”
“I love you too, Mom,” I said.
She pulled me in for a hug with an audible sniff. I shot Dad a confused look over her shoulder, but he just shrugged and shook his head. He called her name and she released me with a teary chuckle.
“Sorry,” she said, sniffing again. “You’re just growing up so fast.”
“Be home by midnight,” Dad said, throwing an arm over Mom’s shoulder and turning back toward the kitchen.
I plopped down on the bench in the foyer to pull on my boots. I’d just finished tying them when the doorbell rang. I stood, tugging down the hem of the sweater as I walked toward the door. I patted my back pocket, confirming my phone was there. I’d shoved my license into the case so I wouldn’t have to carry a purse.
Taking a deep breath, I swung the door open. All three Patton brothers stood on the other side.
“Woah,” Wyatt said.
“You can close your mouth now,” I quipped, unable to suppress a grin.
“You look gorgeous,” Jett said as I stepped to the side and waved them in.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
I glanced at Beckett, wondering what he was thinking. He looked a bit gobsmacked, but remained silent.
“Seriously?” I said after I closed the door, planting my hands on my hips. “You guys act like you’ve never seen me dressed up before.”
“You’ve never shown so much skin before,” Jett said, his eyes roving from my head to my toes.
“Shut up,” I said, smacking him on the shoulder.
“I’m not sure we should take her in public like this,” Wyatt said, earning a glare from me.
