I Hate You - Ilsa Madden-Mills Page 0,43

her in my arms and I’m going to try to kiss her and she’ll tell me to stop—

The words are wrenched from her, and she clings to her backpack as if it’s a lifeline. “I didn’t know you were a coward, Blaze.”

My throat is suddenly tight. “Yeah, well, now you do.”

She takes a deep breath and seems to gather herself. “We should have had this conversation months ago, but you plastered Dani to your side. For what? To keep me away from you? Why?”

Unease prickles over me. She’s got me there. She does. I used Dani as a shield, because I knew if I got within one foot of Charisma—

“Tell me how you feel, Charisma. Wasn’t I just a good fuck? Weren’t you just using me?” This feels crucial to me, and I tuck my hands in my pockets to hide my nervousness.

Her head shakes. “Don’t turn this around. It doesn’t matter how I felt. We’re over anyway…right?” She stares at me, waiting for a response, and my chest feels tight.

“Right.” I rub a hand through my hair and hold her gaze. “Charm. I am sorry for how it ended.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” She turns her back to me, gets in her car, and cranks it.

I don’t try to stop her. I’ve pushed myself as far as I can when it comes to talking about this.

She pulls out, and I stand there until she’s gone, her taillights glowing in the dark.

13

“I hope we don’t get caught,” Margo mutters as we slip like ninjas through the stately front door of the Theta mansion on sorority row. It’s bigger than our house, rumored to have at least twenty bedrooms upstairs for upperclassmen. We’ve crashed parties before, and the opulence and over-the-top decor is enough to make me grit my teeth. We aren’t the “rich party girls” the Thetas are, and we’ve accepted it, but Margo is determined to get the latest scoop on our competition. I don’t know why since it’s our last semester, but that’s just her. No one gets the best of her. She’s on a mission, and she’s dragged me and Penelope with her.

Might as well.

It’s the Friday after a long week of classes, and my plan was to watch TV, but after Penelope gave me a rousing pep talk and reminded me we’d be incognito and then proceeded to say, “You never know who you might see,”…well, I jumped at the chance.

Margo adjusts her feathered black masquerade mask with red jewels on the side. Penelope and I do the same. We. Are. Ready.

“If anyone asks, we’re three freshmen, green as a blade of fresh spring grass. Got it?” I say.

Nods come.

“Right on,” Penelope says. “This party will blow.”

We’re dressed in all black, the theme of this fabulous shindig. Margo’s in jeans and an expensive-looking cardigan set—which I told her is a dead giveaway, but she ignored me. Penelope’s in a short leather skirt and a cropped sweater. Her red hair is swirled up in a tight bun, her mask loaded with feathers. She keeps blowing them out of her mouth.

I’m in three-inch strappy black heels, primo cropped leggings—the kind that suck everything up—and a snug gold vest with intricate black embroidery and cloth-covered buttons. With a deep plunging neckline that displays my cleavage, it’s a snazzy little vintage piece that caught my eye at a consignment store in New York. It breaks the “black only” rule a little, but I couldn’t resist it.

“Thanks for helping me spy on their party. Ugh. Why didn’t we think of a cool party for back to school?” Margo complains.

“Madame President, think of our high GPAs. Remember our kickass homecoming gig where everyone in the world showed up, even townies! This party will never top any of ours!” I say.

We do a fist bump. We had a few glasses of pre-party wine back at the house.

I adjust my own mask, which is made of soft velvet and has sparkling faux diamonds in the corners. My hair is slicked back in a high ponytail, the pink strands brushed with temporary brown hair paint Penelope swore would wash out later.

I could be any girl tonight.

There’s a long line of people in the foyer as we ease closer, the Theta standing there checking IDs and handing out wristbands for alcohol.

“Uh-oh,” I say. “ID check.”

“Dammit, how are we going to get past her?” Margo mumbles.

I’m in the middle of them and throw an arm around each of their shoulders. With me in heels and them in flats, I’m almost