The Ivies - Alexa Donne Page 0,82

think that’s bullshit, Aves. You’re crying that you don’t have any real friends, but you say that to me, who you kept at arm’s length. You lied to me for three years. It’s obvious Emma only got close to me so she could steal my key and get access to the ID maker. What did you use me for?”

Avery’s jaw flexes. Back to a sure, two-handed grip, her fingers wrap tighter around the steering wheel. “Emma…” She blows out a heavy breath through her nose. “Yes, she used you for your office access. I didn’t approve. I thought it was low as shit to angle for you as her roommate to keep tabs on you. And I kept things from you, but I never used you. No more than you used me.”

“You didn’t trust me. With anything real.”

Avery looks at me sidelong. “Given the way you’ve reacted with your little investigation, I’d say I was right not to trust you. Again, Liv, the wounded act will only go so far. You accused me of murder.”

“Yeah, well, you kind of lost your shit over Emma getting into Harvard. And you said some fucked-up stuff afterward, about Harvard reconsidering you.”

“Maybe you were just projecting, since you were also hiding a Harvard acceptance. Congrats, by the way.” There’s a wryness to her tone. Almost like she means it.

“Thanks?” I answer tentatively. “And maybe I did jump to conclusions. But I was freaking out. Weren’t you freaking out?”

“Uh, yeah, but unlike you, I didn’t start pointing fingers at my only friends.” Then Avery surprises me with a laugh, almost a bark. “Though probably because I knew Emma cast a pretty wide net with her secrets. It could’ve been…a lot of different people.”

“I figured that out eventually,” I mumble.

For a minute, there’s just the steady hum of tires on asphalt, the rhythmic tick of the turn signal before we hang a right onto Claflin Boulevard. We’re almost home.

“You really thought I murdered someone for getting into Harvard instead of me? You thought I’d kill you, too?” She’s wounded again.

“I…” Is there any good way to explain this? All I can do is be honest. “After the fight at the party, yeah, I thought maybe. It’s why I started investigating. I wanted to prove it wasn’t true.”

“And you wanted to direct the police away from you.”

“You guys hacking the security cameras really didn’t help with making me look guilty,” I explain. “I couldn’t prove my story to them.” And now it’s my turn to throw a wounded accusation. “How often did you guys hang out without me like that?”

We pull into the Claflin parking lot, into Avery’s reserved spot close to the front gate. Avery turns off the engine but makes no move to exit. “It was easier that way sometimes. We could talk about all the stupid, frivolous bullshit we wanted without feeling bad. We did feel bad, Liv. Or at least I did. I don’t like rubbing all my money in your face. You…never take it particularly well, even if you pretend about it. We all know.”

She’s got my number. “I know I shouldn’t blame you. But it’s hard, always comparing myself to you and coming up short. Everything seems easier for all of you. The money stuff, at least. I know everyone’s got messy shit in their lives. No one wins the Oppression Olympics.”

Avery bursts out laughing. “Where did you get that?”

“Oh, it’s something my mom always says.”

“I love your mom.”

I turn to face her, craving that eye contact now. “You do? You acted like she was some freak whenever she came to campus. Our sad little life.”

“Olivia, your mom is actually nice to you. No passive-aggressive put-downs about how much you eat or going behind your back because she doesn’t think you’re smart enough to get into her alma mater. She let you come hundreds of miles away to school to better yourself. My mom shipped me here so I wouldn’t get in the way of her fabulous life. Big difference.

“And sometimes, it’s not about you, Liv.” Avery throws open her door, indicating that our heart-to-heart is over. “Now, let’s go to bed. I have a nine a.m. breakfast scheduled with said hell beast of a mother, and I need my rest.”

I raise my eyebrows as I move to get out, and Avery sighs.

“She texted while you were being interrogated. Fitzgerald emailed all the parents about the arrest, and she wants a play-by-play before we do some last-minute Christmas