Page 82 of Love and Other Paradoxes

“How do you know?”

At the same time, they both said, “We know.”

Rob looked between the two of them. “Why are you being so intensely weird?”

Joe turned to Esi. “Something needs to be different.”

“Different from what?” Rob asked plaintively.

“From how it was going to be.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair, trying to dislodge an idea. “We need a new variable.”

“I’m a new variable,” Esi offered. “So are you, if you’ve never cared about the Game before.”

She was right. He whirled back to Rob. “You once told me non-Assassins can be—what’s it called...”

“Accomplices?” Rob laughed. “I’m not letting you be my Accomplices. If you get yourselves killed, that makes me Wanted, which means—”

“We’re not going to get ourselves killed. We’ll just—be there, watching, waiting for her to make her move. And then, at the crucial moment—”

“We can distract her.” Esi’s smile dazzled him.

Rob was less pleased. “You both need to explain to me what the hell is going on here.”

“Later,” said Joe. “Right now, you just need to trust us.”

Rob stared at him, like he was weighing their years of friendship against his heart’s desire. Finally, he sighed. “Okay. Fine. I accept your mysterious and frankly unnerving offer of assistance. But that means you and Campbell both need to be at the Ball.”

Esi looked at Joe in alarm. “Aren’t the tickets really expensive?”

“We can work for half of it. Get into the other half for free.” Heshrugged. “A lot of people do it. It’s the only way to get in, if you don’t have a spare hundred quid lying around.”

“Completely normal university,” Esi muttered.

“Okay. Darcy’s working the first half, so I’d need you two to do the same.” Rob was out of bewilderment and into strategy mode, steepling his fingers. “I’ll talk to my mate on the committee. He can sort you out.”

Joe met Esi’s uncertain, hopeful eyes. “It’s a plan.”

The twenty-third of June. The date had been circled in red on the calendar of his mind for so long that it felt like doomsday had arrived.

He had spent the first five hours of the Ball serving champagne cocktails to a never-ending stream of his beautifully dressed peers, who had treated him as if he were invisible. Now, as the Chapel clock struck eleven, he was on the other side, dressed up in his kilt outfit, part of the privileged crowd. The champagne cocktails had run out; the only drink left was beer in a plastic cup. He drained it and dropped the cup in a bin, thinking wryly how the evening summed up his Cambridge experience: half-in and half-out of it.

He and Esi had been assigned to different stations, so he hadn’t yet seen her. Rob had given her his key so she could use their room to get changed. He waited near the entrance of the staircase, watching the coloured lights sweep over the college’s limestone walls, the past and the future colliding.

And then he saw her. His breath caught. Her dress was floor-length, gathered at the bodice, pale blue with a violet overlay that picked up the delicate shimmer of her skin. Her hair was done up in a complicated, sculptural arrangement, tiny flowers studded allover like stars. Forget-me-nots. His heart ached at the irony. “You look fucking beautiful.”

She lowered her head, a smile blooming across her face. “Burleigh Street charity shops came through again.”

He offered her his arm. She took it, and they walked across the grass under the lights as though they belonged there. He kept stealing sideways glances at her, taking in her proud, upright stance, her serene expression. He remembered how she’d been at Diana’s party, self-conscious, hiding in the corner. She must be feeling even more out of place here, but if it bothered her, she was refusing to let anyone see it. She was coming into herself, and it was incredibly sexy to witness.

He reminded himself to focus on the task at hand. “Has Rob found her yet?”

“No.” She looked around with an intent, sweeping gaze. “I’m not going to lie. It feels weird that I’m here to help him kill her.”

“A fake death to prevent a real one,” he reminded her as his phone buzzed. He opened his sporran and took it out, Esi watching with amusement. A message from Rob. “He wants us to check the dining hall.”

They headed up the steps into the high-ceilinged space. Up on the dais, the ceilidh band was announcing the last dance to four long rows of swaying guests.

Heart beating strangely fast, he turned to Esi. “You know, the most efficient way to search a room is to join in Strip the Willow.”

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