“Em, the girl’s bored out of her damn mind. You said it yourself, she feels stifled. If someone asked her to McDonald’s, she’d probably break out into a Disney song.”
Emory scoffs. “This is different. This is some serious rule-breaking shit. You know Vandy, she’s a saint.”
Because that’s all you ever allow her to be.
“Just ask her,” I say instead. “If she says no, then we can have a backup.”
“You realize that some of this shit is going to pair us off—Devils and Playthings. Are you really telling me the thought of Ben or Carl or a Wilcox doing stuff with Vandy doesn’t make you want to barf?”
Oh, it does more than make me want to barf. What it does it make me want to hit something, preferably a face, and preferably with my boot.
My hands are still reflexively fisted when I toss out, “So if that happens, I’ll be her partner.”
Emory seems to be mulling this over. “So you’ll put on a show, if necessary, to make it legit as possible.”
“Exactly.”
“I can’t believe I’m—” Emory rakes a hand through his hair before rising to his feet. “If I approve this, she’s off limits to everyone in the club. That has to be a rule.”
Part of me kind of balks at this on Vandy’s behalf. Sure, she might be a bit naïve and goody-goody, but she’s capable of making her own choices. Instead of saying this, I simply agree, “Fine by me.”
As he begins pacing around the space, he adds, “And she has to agree to be okay with this. She may not even want to be near you, and I’m going to need your eyes on her. I don’t trust the vultures around here, bro. I know my sister is pretty, and I know a few of them would love to sink their claws into her. That shit is not going to happen, you get me? She’s immature, and has very little social experience. We’ll have to keep tabs on her.”
I feel my mouth slant, but still give a slow nod. “Yeah, that’s…understandable.” What it is, is pretty annoying. I don’t want to be a babysitter, standing between Vandy and four other guys. The only thing I want between are this Afton chick’s thighs. But I know I have to do it, to keep her mouth shut. At least for a little while. “You know me, dude. I’ll look after Vandy like one of my own.”
His pacing slows to pensive shuffling. “Since all of this is on the down-low and no one knows about it, you two being in the same group shouldn’t be a problem, right? Like, the administrators won’t find out. No one will find out.”
I agree, “That’s the idea.”
Emory finally falls back into his chair, most of that crazy energy having drained out of him. “So, we can make this work.” He sounds skeptical, but accepting.
“Yeah,” I agree, refusing to meet his eye. When all this blows up—and it will, once Vandy gets the Chronicle to publish her paper—Emory is going to kill me. If she keeps her word, we’ll both be long gone before that happens.
She corners me the same as last time, a quick exchange in the breezeway.
“What’s going on? It’s been three days.” Her eyes are all shifty and annoyed, arms crossed over her chest. She’s wearing her hair differently today, all tied up in a knot at the top of her head. A wayward lock keeps fluttering over her forehead, and she swats it away. Her eyes look tired, strained. “I’ll go to Dewey.”
Like usual, I can’t tell if she’s trying to be genuinely threatening. Honestly, I doubt her going to the dean with such limited information would do much harm, not when someone at the school wants the Devils active again.
But it’s a risk I can’t take.
“Calm your—” I swallow the word ‘tits’ before it slips out of my mouth. “Everything is good, but you’re going to have to wait a little longer for details.”
“How much longer?”
“If I knew, I’d tell you.” Maybe. “But I don’t. This thing… I’m in the dark about a lot of it, too.”
The breezeway door opens and two kids, probably freshmen, walk out. Vandy and I stop talking while they pass. When they’ve gone through the other door she says, “But you worked it out? With Emory?”
“Yes. It’s all good.” She opens her mouth again, but I hold up a hand. “Just be patient, okay?”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re one to talk. You’ve always been the most