off. Still, I can’t say it isn’t a nice change of pace.
It’s a relief not to be called a slut under someone’s breath, or have people try to pelt me with grapes.
“I don’t want to talk about Saint right now,” I tell Loni. “What’s happening in your life? Distract me from this weird nonsense, please.”
“Oh, you want different weird nonsense?” She leans in close to me, suddenly bouncing in her seat. “Have I got some crazy shit for you.”
I’m intrigued. Loni seems to have the best, most random stories.
“So, you know my ex, Brandon?”
“Super-hot jerkface who surfs through life on a wave of privilege and didn’t report Nick’s attackers? Yeah, I’ve heard of him.”
She snorts. “That’s a very good description of him, I’m not going to lie. Anyway, Brandon shows up at my door last night, and says he wants to talk about the night of the attack.”
“What?” I exclaim.
She bobs her head. “It was super awkward. At first, I told him to go away, but he wouldn’t listen and just kept begging me to let him in. I finally caved because I’m weak and stupid. Anyway, he starts telling me…”
She suddenly trails off, and I frown. “What? He started telling you what?”
“I may need to finish this story another time,” she says, her tone suddenly reserved, her spine stiff.
I’m so confused by her sudden change in demeanor, from her usual perky self to more guarded, until a tray is set right next to me. I glance up, and I let out a gasp.
It’s Saint.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
He settles into the chair beside me with a shrug. “Eating. You should be used to watching me do that by now.”
Oh. My. God. Kill me now. I ignore Loni’s bulging eyes, and blurt out, “I’m not an idiot. What’re you doing here, at this table?”
He meets my gaze with an almost bored expression. “You didn’t come sit with me, so I’m sitting with you.”
As if that explains everything. He’s tiptoeing into dating territory with this move, and it’s confusing the ever-living hell out of me.
Loni is staring at us in awe, her eyes bouncing from me to him and back again like a tennis match. “This is one of the most random things I think has ever happened to me,” she finally murmurs after he tips his golden head in her direction and mutters a, “What the fuck’s your problem, Baby Juggernaut?”
The most random thing that’s ever happened to her?
She has no idea.
26
For the first time since I started at Angelview, people are treating me with respect. Like, real, consistent respect. A part of me thinks I should be a little ashamed that it’s because of who I’m sleeping with, but the part of me most interested in self-preservation doesn’t really care.
I don’t trust everyone, or course. Hell, other than Loni and Henry, I don’t trust anyone. I know these people could flip back into hating me with a snap of Saint’s fingers. Some of them still hate me, like Laurel, who thinks that granting me a few forced words of kindness will make me forget she poisoned me, and Jon Eric and Finnegan, who hate my fucking guts. Apart from those three, however, I can’t complain overly much.
It’s nice not being ridiculed and tormented every waking hour of my day.
On the last Wednesday before Fall Break, I make my way to the library to study for a test. I’m feeling lighter than usual, and I think it’s the combination of not being a total social pariah, and the incredible sex. I’ve let Saint come back to my room at night, and he’s making up for telling everyone we’re having sex in big, mind-blowing ways. I might actually be somewhere in the realm of happy for the first time in months, and it’s a feeling I really don’t want to go away.
Unfortunately, when I walk into the library and almost immediately spot Liam, some of that happiness does fade. He’s been avoiding me completely since the dance. This is the first time I’ve seen him outside of class, and I hate that things have gotten so bad between us.
I want to try and mend things as best I can. I can’t fix whatever’s going on between him and Saint, but that doesn’t need to dictate Liam’s relationship with me.
Right?
Squaring my shoulders, I march over to his table and plop down in the seat across from him.
He glances up, then immediately scowls.
“What are you doing?”
“Sitting,” I say, like a smart ass.