“Hey, Sam!” I shout at the attractive football player. “You want to take me to the party tonight?”
His eyes widen as I catch him off guard, and beside me, I can feel Tristan stiffen. Serena whispers something to him, but he doesn’t respond. We’re both watching Sam now, I don’t even need to see Tristan’s face to know that his eyes are seeing the same thing I am: a cute jock with sandy blond hair and blue eyes.
“Urm, yeah…” Sam says hesitantly as the other players cheer and whistle before grinning at me. “Yes. Definitely. Want a lift home first?”
I try to look shy and sweet as I nod. “Yeah, let me just grab my bag.”
He should give me butterflies, but he doesn’t. I’m on autopilot, behaving how I know I should, rather than how I feel. It’s a strategy I learned when my father first started doing political campaigns and one I use daily. I’ve asked Sam out for all the wrong reasons, but he doesn’t need to know that. I’m going to go and enjoy myself, since it doesn’t look like I’ll get to dance tonight. At least, not the kind of dancing I need.
“What’re you doing?” Tristan hisses, grabbing my arm as I squeeze myself through him and Serena to get to where Sam is waiting.
I turn and watch him coldly, even though I feel like I’m burning up under his glare. His hand is scorching my skin, reminding me why I am pushing him. I can’t be broken, not by him. “We’ve already had this discussion, Tristan. My sex life is none of your business.”
“Like fuck—” he spits, but I yank my arm free.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Serena asks, her soft voice faltering as she finally notices the battle of wills we’re having.
“Nothing. I’ll see you later at the party. I’ll give you all the juicy deets.” I wink and giggle, feeding into Tristan’s anger. Serena doesn’t disappoint, giggling in return and slapping my ass as she tells me to have fun and ‘stay safe’ tonight. Tristan looks like he’s ready to murder her as Sam slings his arm around my shoulder and leads me out to his car.
Chapter Eight
Tristan
I don’t know what possessed me to go to the fucking pep rally. I hated school events normally, but Elena was avoiding me ever since the music room last week. Sitting in the stands, I watch as she jumps, twirls, and does cartwheels across the sports hall. I can see some of the tension leaving her body with every leap and every landing, but it isn’t enough, the routine is still stifling her.
In the music room, I’d pushed her again. Forced her to face some things she didn’t want to think about, and while it hurt when she used the cut on my head as a defence mechanism, I also saw how I’d rippled that calm confidence of hers. She wanted me. She just wasn’t admitting it yet. The woman was going to drive me crazy if she didn’t give me just an inch soon, I didn’t even want a mile.
The rally ends and people start filtering out into the parking lot, but my eyes glue to her as she goes to the bench and starts looking through her sports bag. Her pretty friend stands next to her, chattering on, and I can see Lena feigning interest, but her eyes are dead as the redhead carries on. It was this thing Elena did, when she reined in her feelings and thoughts; her eyes went flat, and she faked whatever it was she was supposed to be feeling. I would say Randolph was to blame, but having met Adeline Montgomery, I knew this was something she’d inherited from her perfectly placid mother. I doubt the woman had ever revealed a true emotion in all her life, but then again, she was a Grim, and that family terrified me. By Society rights, Adeline was more powerful than her husband, and yet she was happy just to be an ornament in his political career. Something was going on there.
I’m not sure when I decided that riling up Lena’s jealous side was a good idea, whether it was when I saw her glancing over at the jock or if it was when she didn’t meet my gaze, but either way, I find myself flirting with her friend and ignoring her. I know it’s backfired when I see her drinking from her bottle, hand clenched around the plastic, fingers digging in as she swallows. The movement of her throat is like an ‘Oh shit’ moment, and I know that whatever comes next is going to piss me off.
The corner of her mouth twitches seconds before she shouts, “Hey, Sam! You want to take me out tonight?”
She wouldn’t dare. Would she? The perfect little princess was going to go and hang out with a pretty boy footballer on a Friday night? Drinking? I think fucking not. I watch as the burly motherfucker says yes like he’s won the lottery, and I stand there as she leaves with him like I’ve been glued to the spot. What the heck just happened?
I won’t let this happen. I won’t let her push me away.
“Hey, you want to go to that party together?” I say casually to Serena. I knew she’d be there, with or without me, but it might just piss off Elena if I was there with her best friend. I’d seen Serena there before, but I’d always been with Blythe or one of the guys getting high, and cheerleaders weren’t usually my type. Too high maintenance.
She replies shyly, but it feels insincere. “Yeah…”
“I’ll pick you up at nine.” I nod, before leaving. I didn’t want to hang around here with the cheerleaders and jocks if Elena wasn’t
