Page 25 of The Good Girl

Ahh, so that’s why she was acting strange recently. I shrug. “Not really. Elections are coming up so that tends to bring our families closer for a while.”

It was partly true. The upcoming political season would bring us closer together, especially since The Council were all key players in this town and lower ranking members of The Society were influential in their own right outside of Silvercrest, meaning that there would be lots of schmoozing, events and photo opportunities that needed to be exploited. I hadn’t failed to notice however that Serena was right, we were spending more time together voluntarily. And I wasn’t mad about it, in fact I was enjoying openly seeing the other Legacies in school. With the exception of one.

I wondered if the fact that we would be graduating this year was a factor in the sudden bonding? With the exception of Tabitha, we would all be finishing school this year and making our moves into The Society, although we wouldn’t be official members until we were twenty-one and initiated.

“Ahhh yes, the founding families and their legacy children.” With a scoff, Serena does a little twirl in my mirror. “Where did you get this? It’s beautiful.”

Sitting on my bed with my legs crossed, I try to remember. I had so many clothes, since my father’s publicist was determined to make sure I didn’t embarrass my father by walking around in my workout gear. “Hmm, London I think. In Harrods.”

“Of course.” I pretend not to notice her eye roll in the reflection as she stands with her back to me. “So, what’s the deal with Tristan Radcliffe? I thought you hated him?”

I knew tonight was going to lead back to him. Since she’d shown me that picture of us on his bike, she watched me like a hawk whenever he was around. I ignored it, because I wrote it off as friendly concern, but I felt uneasy actually talking about it.

“I do.” I do my best to keep my voice calm, and to not let the thought of Tristan rile me up. After the dinner yesterday, I wasn’t sure if I still hated him with the same venom. But that didn’t mean I liked him either.

“He doesn’t seem to hate you though…”

I snort. He wanted to add me to his lists of conquests and then when I was dick drunk, he’d marry me and force me to live by his rules. Dick drunk. Had I just thought that? Where had that come from? What the hell did that even mean? Why was I thinking about Tristan’s dick?

Throwing the dress over the armchair in the corner of the room, Serena jumps up onto my bed and gives me a coy look. “He’s always watching you.”

“It’s complicated. He’s waiting for me to trip up, that’s all.” The dress slips off the chair and falls to the floor in a heap, but Serena doesn’t seem to notice that my two-thousand-dollar dress is now a glorified rug, instead she lays back on my pillows with a smirk.

“And what? Land on his cock?” She laughs, and there’s a flash of guilt as part of me wishes she’d go home already.

“Don’t go there.” I smile, shifting into fake friendship mode, something I never thought I’d have to do with Serena.

Tilting her head, her dark eyes meet mine. “Well, if you don’t like him…Would you mind if I maybe asked him out?”

It’s my turn to laugh, a chuckle escaping before I realize she’s serious. “Do you need your head checked?”

She’s never mentioned Tristan in that way. In fact, she’d always agreed with me when I’d called him a douche, she was complaining about his superior, devil-may-care attitude only last week in cheer practice when he’d tried to watch from the stands. I mean, sure, he had shown me a kinder side with the cake last night. However, his pervy side hadn’t been far behind as he’d tried to persuade me to strip for him. My thoughts are tied up in knots as I remember the feel of his warm hands on my thighs or the sound of his deep laugh. No, I wasn’t going to go there.

“Girl, you need your eyes tested. He’s hot. Like hot with multiple o’s.” She pulls open my bedside draw and begins noseying inside. When she finds nothing interesting, she closes it again.

“Hoot?” I say, trying to lighten the weird tension between us with a joke.

This time she openly rolls her eyes. “You just don’t see it because you’ve known him since you were in diapers, but that boy is lick-worthy.”

“Christ, Serena, you don’t know where he’s been. But if that’s what you want, don’t let me stop you.” I hold my hands up, giving her permission to enjoy a fling with Tristan if that’s what she wants. It won’t matter in the end anyway. He was mine.

Fuck.

What?

No.

My mother bursts into the room, interrupting my train of thought, wearing a beautiful red gown, and I know she’s heading out for the evening. “Darling, have you seen my Chanel purse. Oh, who’s this?”

Her green eyes narrow as Serena shifts into a sitting position, and though my mother’s face is perfectly placid, the corner of her mouth twitches and she covers it with a bright smile. A politician’s smile.

“This is Serena, Mother, you’ve met before,” I say, my tone light as I give my mother the opportunity to apologize and at least pretend that she remembers my friend. “And your purse is probably in the lounge next to the sofa.”

Instead, she tilts her head to one side. Then the other before frowning slightly. “We have?”

Serena seems to shrink a little as my mother scrutinizes her with a harsh glare. Tapping a long red nail against her equally red lips, my mother thinks for a moment before recognition hits her. “Geoffrey Suliman’s daughter? The real-estate mogul?”

Serena actually flicks her hair over her shoulder and smiles, preening. I shudder as my mother’s gaze turns darker, knowing that Serena hadn’t won herself any points with her posturing. “Yes, that’s me, Mrs. Montgomery.”

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