“Weird I didn’t receive a message,” he says, looking concerned.
“But I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t already have a commitment.
“Uh, yeah. Tomorrow.” He still looks bothered by the mess up in scheduling.
“Are you okay?”
“I was … a little worried … that you were distancing yourself again. Monday was … Well, a lot was said.”
“I remember,” I say, offering a gentle smile.
“All of it?”
“Yup,” I tell him. “Even the parts when I was in Wonderland. It feels like I’m looking at those memories from a thousand feet in the air, watching myself. But I remember.”
His face becomes thoughtful, almost pained actually—like he’s struggling to find the words to ask a question he’s afraid to know the answer to. So I stretch up on my toes and kiss him, hoping that gives him the answer. His mouth eases into a smile even before my lips leave his.
A throat clears.
We turn to find Cary standing behind me. “Uh, as much as I’m a fan of young love, I will have to kindly ask you to refrain from expressing it while you’re working.”
I bite my lip, my cheeks blossoming with color.
“We’re not,” Grant chokes out, his eyes flashing to me nervously. “It’s not …”
“Relax, Grant. I’m not scolding you like I’m your father. You’re not in trouble.” Before he walks away, he adds, “I’m actually happy for you both.”
Grant closes his eyes and grimaces. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to fix that, to keep him from thinking …”
“It’s okay. We can’t control what anyone else thinks. As long you and I know what we are, or what we’re not.”
Grant relaxes a little, but the worry lingers in his eyes. I’m not sure if it’s because we were caught by Cary, or if it’s what I said. “Okay. Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I nod and watch him walk away. I guess it is a little complicated, to be together but not. Except that’s the whole point; it’s not something that fits in a box. The more we think about it, or what everyone else will think about it, the more complicated it will be. And it’s not complicated … or it’s not supposed to be. And now … I’m confused again.
I’m not allowed to see my room until Serge has completed its transformation. He and Ashton spend most of Thursday together. They asked me to join them, but after ten minutes of his exaggerated hand gestures and words flying out of his mouth so fast he sounds like he’s speaking in a foreign tongue, I told them I needed to go to the library to work on my American government paper.
Before I reach the library, I receive a message.
You have a guest at the administration building.
When I enter, I find Parker waiting for me. He smiles as soon as he sets his brilliant blue eyes upon me. I sigh, hating that he still captivates me.
“Hi,” I greet him, surprised to find him in Kingston. “I thought you’d be in Nantucket with your family.”
His brows scrunch. “How do you know my family’s in Nantucket?”
Crap.
“Your brother,” I say, trying to play it off. I’m not sure what his deal is with Joey, and I really don’t want to be the reason they continue with their stupid squabble. So it’s probably best if Parker doesn’t know I’ve been in contact with Joey.
He nods in understanding. “Right, Lance couldn’t come this year because of classes.” Then he says, “I came back early. I found out something that I wanted to share with you.”
“You didn’t have to end your family trip for me,” I say, not even knowing what it is, but overwhelmed that he chose to come here to see me.
“I did,” he says almost excitedly. “We found her.” He looks around, realizing we’re still in the foyer. “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
I lead him to the room where I met with Niall when I first arrived.
“Found who?” I ask as soon as the door closes.
“Mara, the girl from the stairwell.”
My mouth has a hard time forming words for a moment. “H-h-how?” I stutter.
“One of my partners is a tech guy. Brilliant. He designed our entry app, and vets the list. He was able to track her down. Something about triangulating and crosschecking … I don’t remember to be honest. But he obviously knows what he’s doing, because he found her.”
“Does he know why you were looking for her?” Suddenly I’m concerned that one more person knows about my presence in the stairwell.
“I was vague. Obviously he knew about the girl who fell.”
“Allie,” I remind him, insistent that he call her by her name.
“Allie,” he repeats. “Sorry.”
“So how do I talk to her?” I ask eagerly.
“You?” Parker scoffs. “You’re not talking to her.”
“But I need to explain what happened. I don’t want her thinking I hurt her friend.”
“She’s not going to say anything.”
“How do you know?” I’m not liking where this is going. He’s being evasive.
“Because I talked to her. She understands what’s at stake.”
“And what is that exactly?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
My heart skips a beat at his non-response. “You better not have threatened her, Parker!”
He laughs off my reaction. “I told you I was going to help you. So I did. It’s done.” He looks down at his watch. “I’m driving back to New York, so I have to get going.”
“You drove all the way up here just to tell me this?” I ask, suspicious, because he’s being really … strange.
“No. Not exactly.”
I wait for him to explain, but he doesn’t. I want to scream at him to tell me what the hell is going on.
“Walk me out?” He nods toward the door.
“You realize how weird all of this is, right?”
“No,” he answers sincerely. “I care about what happens to you. Friends or whatever, I’ll always take care of you.”
I try not to make a face and call him out on his bullshit, because my gut is telling me something’s off. I consider myself an expert at detecting untruths, and he’s not sharing something.
I walk him out to the front steps of the administration building.
“Come here,” he beckons, opening his arms. I lean into his hug, resting my head on his chest.
“This still doesn’t feel right, Parker. I know you’re not telling me everything.”
He kisses the top of my head and assures me again, “You don’t have anything to worry about.”
When I ease out of his arms, I catch a glimpse of Grant and Lily walking along the circular drive toward the library. I’ll need to explain to Grant what he might’ve just witnessed between Parker and me. But … should I have to? Because we’re not really together. The parameters of non-dating are so … fuzzy.
“So what, your rule doesn’t apply to him?” Parker nods toward Grant just as he disappears.
“What do you mean? And how do you know about Grant?”
“You go to school with my brother. You’re friends with my cousin. And they used to date.”
“Lance and Lily?” I question in abhorrence. “How close is your family?!”
“Lily and Grant!” Parker stresses impatiently. “They dated for like a year. It was serious. Nothing casual like what Nina and I had. And you won’t even go on a date with me. But you can be in a relationship with him? Why bother with the bullshit excuse about not touching guys your friends have been with? You just had to tell me you weren’t interested.”
I’m not going to argue with him about semantics because I did tell him I wasn’t interested. I may have wrapped that message within my friendship rule. But … what the fuck?! “They dated? For a year?”
“Yes.” He drives the point in emphatically. “They broke up last winter. But I was always under the impression it wasn’t permanent. Like they planned to get back tog
ether.”
“Who said that?”
“Lily. She asked for some time apart,” he informs me.
“Not Grant?” I clarify.
He shakes his head.
“Oh,” I breathe, my head reeling. My heart is fluttering in full-blown panic mode. “I gotta go.”
I don’t hear anything else Parker says as I walk away, following the same path to the library that Lily and Grant took. My phone beeps and I absently remove it from my messenger bag.
Tutor session changed to study room D.
I talk myself out of panicking. Because … well, what do I have to panic about? He’s not mine, I shouldn’t care. Except my pounding heart doesn’t give a shit. It does care, and needs answers. Now.
When I walk into the library, I search for either Grant or Lily. I find them together in an aisle toward the back of the library. When I come upon them, they appear to be engaged in a serious conversation. So I do what Brendan would do (he’s obviously a horrible influence) and I move along the aisle next to them to listen. I know, I’m going to hell. But at least Brendan … yeah, that doesn’t help.
“I didn’t know it was serious,” Lily says quietly.
“It’s … complicated,” Grant explains, his eyes lower in apology. “But I’d like it to be.”
“Oh,” she breathes. “I just thought you were having fun. I didn’t realize …”
“I thought this was what you wanted?” he asks, concern drawing his brows together.
She smiles warmly. “It is.” Her smile transitions into her vibrant one. “I’m happy for you. I was just surprised when I saw you together on Monday.”
“That’s why I wanted to tell you … to be honest with you about how I feel about her.” His eyes flicker, waiting for her reaction.
“Well, thank you, I appreciate that. And I really am happy for you.” Her expression is heartfelt, her smile never wavering. But I can’t see her eyes from my vantage, peering through the small space above the books.
Grant studies her for a second, like maybe he sees something that makes him hesitant to believe her. But then he smiles softly. “We’re good? You and I? I will always care about you, Lily. Always. I’m here for you whenever you need me.”
“So good,” she says lightly, still smiling affectionately. Grant pulls her to him and gives her a hug. I get a glimpse of her face as she blinks back the shimmer in her eyes. She is not good. But damn, she’s an amazing liar.
I feel like the slimiest scum of the earth after witnessing that. I really am a vile creature right now.
I slink off to the study room early to collect myself and figure out what the hell I’m going to do about all of this. Why didn’t he tell me about him and Lily? The more I think about it, the more frustrated I become. By the time I reach the basement, I’m preparing my “what the hell” speech.
Distracted, I realize too late that I’ll need the librarian to unlock the door for me. But when I reach the end of the aisle, I find the door to study room D isn’t closed all the way. I turn on the light and enter to wait inside. I leave the door open, watching for Grant.
I can’t sit, so I pace. And think … way too much.
Lily obviously still has feelings for him. And she’s been nothing but kind to me. She is the sweetest person on the planet. What the hell is he doing with me? I mean, not with me, but … whatever. He has feelings for me? Like serious enough feelings that he has to tell his ex-girlfriend?
I cup the back of my head with both hands and groan in frustration. What am I doing? Besides falling in love with him.
“Holy shit,” I say out loud and then cover my mouth in shock. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.—continues repeating in my head.
“I’m falling in love with him,” I gasp.
“You weren’t supposed to do this!” I yell at my heart, or soul, or whatever part of me that decided to connect with Grant against my will. Squirrel’s love explanation is a little hazy right now.
The door slams shut. I turn around expecting Grant. But no one’s there.
“What the hell?” I mutter, walking to the door to crack it open again. But it’s locked.
The lights shut off.
“Hey!” I yell, slamming my fist against the door. “Someone’s in here!” I wait. No response. “Hello! Open the door!” I slap against the wood, jostling the door handle. Nothing.
I can’t see a thing. It’s so black it’s like I’ve been locked in a tomb.
My heartbeat picks up and I draw air into my lungs faster and faster.
I shake the doorknob and pound. “Let me out!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Please! Let me out!” The last word breaks into a panicked sob. “Please!”
I’m light-headed and feel like I’m going to fall over. I slide my hand along the door to the wall. Pressing my back against it, I bend over like Brendan showed me, breathing in slow and deep. But I can’t fill my lungs. My pulse is racing. I can’t breathe. Oh, no. I can’t breathe.
I slink to the floor, fighting for air.
“Stop it!” I holler, but the laugh gives away that I don’t really mean it.
He reaches over me, his chest brushing against mine as I hold the remote out of his reach. But it’s not really. He could easily get it from me if he wanted. His mouth is so close to mine. I swallow hard.
I squirm farther down the couch, squealing when his hand grabs my waist and tickles me. I’ve had a crush on him for so long. I’m hoping so hard that he might finally kiss me. I know he’s older. But I’m finally looking like a teenager, and not the little kid he watches when my mother works late and my grandmother has to cover the night shift at the pharmacy. I’ve only ever been the little kid upstairs to him. I want him to see I’m not anymore.
I slide down to the floor. “We are not watching your stupid show.” I attempt to crawl out of reach, still laughing, not realizing my skirt has slid up and my underwear is peeking out.
“Since when do wear lace underwear?”
I whip around and pull the skirt down, my face flaming red.
“You’re wearing a bra now too, huh?” His eyes slide over my curves. I have the biggest boobs in my grade. It’s so embarrassing. I try to hide them with baggy shirts. But today I’m wearing a tank top. It’s hard not to notice that I’m not a flat-chested, pig-tail wearing little girl anymore. I wanted him to notice. But now that he has, my stomach feels sick.
He crawls over me. Something’s different. My heart isn’t beating with excitement anymore. It’s pounding with fear.
He leans in to kiss me, but I turn my head. “Don’t.”
“What? You don’t want me to?”
“I do,” I fumble. But I don’t really mean it anymore. His breath feels hot on my cheek. His body is balanced above me like he’s doing a push-up. “I don’t know.”
“You know you do.” He lowers himself. And I flip over before he’s on top of me, trying to crawl out from under him. He presses me into the carpet, my hands are pinned under my shoulders. I squirm. “Yeah, you know you do.”
“Get off,” I choke. “I can’t breathe.”
His body is heavy. I try to push up, to knock him off, but I’m not strong enough. He presses harder against me. My lungs can’t suck in air. “I can’t breathe. Stop.”
A hand slides along my thigh and cups my butt cheek. He squeezes.
I whimper. “Get off me!” I struggle to move, but he’s so much bigger than I am. So much stronger. He’s crushing me. I need to get out. “Get off me!”
His jeans rub against me; I can feel him. His hand grips the edge of my underwear. He pulls at it. I whimper again.
“No. No. No,” I sob. My breath is caught. There’s no air left.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” my grandmother shouts.
He scrambles off of me. The pressure on my chest releases but I’m still gasping for air.
“Get the fuck out of my house!” She follows him out of the apartment to the stairs. “You little piece of shit! I tr
usted you!”
I hear muffled words behind the closed door. Followed by a thumping so loud it’s like he’s jumping down the stairs to escape. Then there’s silence. I remain balled up on the carpet that has burned my knees and my elbows. I cry until all the air is gone.
My grandmother doesn’t return. I only know she’s dead at the bottom of the stairs when I hear my mother scream hours later. I still haven’t moved.
“Lana?”
I open my eyes. The lights are on. I’m on the floor with my knees pulled up into me, my arms holding them tight.
Grant is crouched in front of me. My eyes flit around wildly. His face. The open door.
He gently sets a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” I scream and push him back. He stumbles to his feet. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
Brendan is standing within the doorframe. His face hard and unreadable.
I stand. “Just don’t touch me,” I cry again. Grant holds his hands up, giving me space.
I bolt toward the door. Brendan backs away to allow me room to pass him.
Lance is in the hall. He flattens against the wall as I race by him.
“Lana!” I hear Ashton holler from farther down the corridor. I run up the stairs just as I hear her say, “Let me do this.”
My feet can’t move fast enough. Sobs fight to crawl out of my throat. I feel like I’m going to explode. I weave through the Court, branches scraping my arms. My feet stumble over uneven cobblestones. I don’t stop until I’m released on the other side of the girls’ dorm and sprint across the field.
I jump down to the cliff and fall to my knees on the rough surface. I slam my fist into it over and over again. I can’t feel the pain, even when my skin splits and blood paints the stone. I choke on the cries that finally claw their way out from within my chest.
I lift my head and scream. The scream comes from somewhere so deep, so buried, I feel it in the deepest hollows of my soul. It extends across the water until it reaches the setting sun, where every last horrific shriek is captured and dragged down it into the darkness. And then it’s gone. My demons are swept away with the wind.
I collapse.
Knowing You_The Cursed Series Part 2 Page 27
