with the scent of sage that grows wild around the property, at least where Ryan’s gardeners haven’t cut it back.
Lulu didn’t see Ryan bring the camera in with them, but then he lifts it to his eye. Because it’s digital, there’s no sound when he takes a picture. Cass doesn’t even seem to notice he’s doing it. He said he was documenting The Hotel, but Lulu has only ever really seen him take pictures of girls.
“Ryan says there’s a curse on this place,” she says, mostly to get Cass’s attention.
But Cass keeps her eyes closed. “Yeah,” she agrees. “He says that.”
“You don’t believe in it either?”
“No one should believe in it,” Cass says. “But Ryan likes talking about it because it makes him sound fearless. As if it’s anything to be afraid of. It isn’t. It’s just— You know how it is.”
“I don’t,” Lulu says.
“Beautiful women and their faces. What aren’t they responsible for?”
“I’ve never said it was anyone’s fault,” Ryan says.
“If there is a curse, she’s the one who cursed it. Connie.”
“Okay, Cass, fine. Sorry for being the patriarchy.”
Lulu bristles on Cass’s behalf at Ryan’s tone, which has the hint of a sneer. But Cass doesn’t seem to hear that, or if she does, it doesn’t bother her.
“It’s not your fault,” she says. “It’s just how it is when people tell stories about girls. Like they’re unnatural forces or something. Witches. If she was beautiful, of course she had to end up cursed.”
Lulu feels like she’s lost track of the conversation. She turns to Ryan to see what he’s making of it, and catches him in the act of taking a picture of her. Which means that he’s noticed it, probably, that she isn’t hiding it the way she wanted to—the way Lulu’s face looks when she looks at Cass.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“YOU’RE STILL COMING on Friday, right?”
Lulu was already halfway home from her second final before she realized she’d just ditched Bea again. She sent a Flash apology filmed while driving, her saying “B, I’m risking life and limb and the world’s most expensive ticket to apologize, I feel like shit, I’m so sorry,” and didn’t get anything back.
So she’s extra-glad to hear Bea calling for her as they leave their calc final on Wednesday. “Of course!” she says, before she even really registers what the question was. “Yeah, definitely,” she adds, reinforcing it for herself.
Bea has a perfect party house—a side entrance that leads onto a huge-ass backyard with high, thick hedges that block any nosy neighbors. Unfortunately, she also usually has parents around who keep them from taking advantage of it. But they headed to Gstaad early this year, trying to beat some of the jet lag, and so on Friday, Bea is throwing her first ever blowout.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Lulu says. She and Bea fall into step with each other, heading toward the parking lot. “So, like, ice cream?”
“I’m the one with plans now,” Bea says. “Rich.” She gestures to where he and Jules are standing, waiting for her to catch up to them.
“Oh.” This is pretty standard—Lulu ditched Bea plenty too when she and Owen first got together—but it’s been a while since she’s been on this end of it, and even longer since Bea had a boyfriend and Lulu didn’t. It’s one hundred percent Lulu’s fault that this is happening right now, but it still sucks.
“Well. Cool,” Lulu says. They’re still walking; they’re closing in on the boys. This conversation is about to end. Lulu doesn’t think it’s ending on a good note.
Bea says, “I was thinking you should invite your friend Cass to the party.”
She doesn’t say the word friend with any particular inflection, or irony.
“Oh, yeah, totally,” Lulu says. “You’ll like her. She’s great.”
“I’m sure,” Bea says. “Later, yeah?” She holds out a hand and Lulu fist-bumps her. Then she’s gone.
Lulu pulls her phone out of her bag, in a hurry to make it look like she didn’t just get ditched. She doesn’t even know if anyone is watching; it is, she knows, a ridiculous reflex. But as long as she’s just doing things, she messages Cass about the party.
Thinking about Cass reminds Lulu that she has something she’s been meaning to do while she’s on campus. If she’s going to be in the middle of someone’s curse, or myth, or—whatever, she wants to know more about Avery Riggs, and she doesn’t want to have to comb through the library to do it.
She goes to Mr. Winters’s office. He’s the Cinema Studies