What We Do in the Night (Day to Night #1) - Stylo Fantome Page 0,80

a string.

And with that last thought, he ground his teeth together and pushed down even harder on the gas pedal.

Maybe we'll both get lucky and I'll crash and I'll end this before it all blows up in our faces some how.

IF BEING AT SCHOOL felt weird, being in Harper's apartment was downright surreal. Valentine chewed on her lips and felt on edge the whole time. She'd buried Ari's scarf in the bottom of her backpack so she couldn't possibly accidentally grab it. She'd buried her burner phone down there, too, and had also turned it off, not wanting a random text message to ruin her scholastic career.

I'm not cut out for this. I'm gonna develop an ulcer. Or a heart attack. Or a fucking aneurysm.

Harper was her usual bitchy self, which was a blessing in some ways. If she'd been nice, Valentine would've felt a little bad about the whole situation. Girl code and all. But luckily, Harper made it impossible to feel any sort of sisterly familiarity with her.

“I don't know how they do it in New York,” she was grumbling. “But this boutique idea wouldn't work for shit here.”

Valentine narrowed her eyes at the blonde, then looked down at her mock business plan. A large store with several rooms, each centering around a different extreme theme, so the shopper was always experiencing something new with each turn they took in the store. She'd been heavily influenced by Caché, obviously.

“I think it would work,” she replied through gritted teeth. “And since you've yet to literally present any ideas, it's all we've got.”

They'd been at it for an hour, but had hardly gotten anything done beyond outlining the basic ideas for their shop. Harper had spent most of the time on her phone, only pausing to insult Valentine here and there.

Who has she been texting for over an hour? Doesn't she care about her grades?

“I don't even know why you think you should be in fashion,” Harper snorted. “I mean, look at you. They don't like poor people in fashion. That's why the best houses shred their clothes at the end of the season – so people like you can't wear them.”

Valentine slammed her hand down on the table, finally hitting her limit.

“Look here, you spoiled little brat,” she snarled. “I get it. You don't like me. You think I'm trash. Fine. Frankly, I don't care, because all I'm worried about is getting a good grade. So stop being such a massive bitch and either help me, or shut your mouth for ten seconds and just let me finish this.”

Harper gaped at her, and for a moment, Valentine thought she was going to heed the warning. Then the other girl squared her shoulders and dropped her phone to the table.

“Did you just call me a bitch? In my own home?” she asked in a squeaky voice.

“Yes, I did. Look, we're both stressed, we both don't want to be doing this, and we both want it to be over,” Valentine groaned. “So please, just let me finish this outline so I can get out of here. We can pick up this fight again on Thursday, or next Tuesday.”

“God, I can't wait till this project is over. I hate this class.”

“Do you like anything?” Valentine asked, exasperated. “It doesn't seem like you even like school. Why are you in it?”

“Looks good for whoever I marry,” Harper replied, as if it were the most obvious reason for going to school.

“Right, right, you're a future Mrs. Junior Senator,” Val muttered under her breath.

“Hey, at least I know I'll get married some day. You'll never get anyone looking the way you do.”

Looking the way I do got me your ex-boyfriend, sweetheart.

Valentine curled her lips between her teeth and bit down hard, then got to concentrating on the project again. Harper continued glaring at her, obviously wanting Val to nap back. When she didn't give her the satisfaction, Harper let out a huff and looked away.

“Just a couple more weeks,” Val mumbled. “And we'll be done, and we'll never have to work together again. Just a couple more weeks.”

There was blessed silence for a long moment, then Harper sighed and stood up.

“Just a couple weeks too long. I'm going to the bathroom. Don't touch anything while I'm gone.”

As she strode across the room, her phone lit up on the table top. Valentine glanced at it, surprised to see the screen was still unlocked. She heard the bathroom door shut, glanced up to confirm that it was,