Page 657 of Filthy Elites

Isabelle givesme a curious smile as I set out the bowl of fruits on the wooden lunch table.

We’re having lunch outside today, and this time I’m keeping our lunch date.

“What? You’re looking at me weird.” I chuckle.

“I was just wondering if you’re actually going to stay for the whole of lunch or if you’ll have to mysteriously run off again.” She smirks.

I know she’s suspected something is going on between Chad and me but hasn’t said anything.Yet.

She’s been edging around to ask the question. I have a feeling this is going to be one of those times.

“I’m not running off. I promise.”

“Are you sure? Because your man just walked onto the quad, and he’s looking this way.”

She gazes over my shoulder with mischief in her eyes.

I follow her gaze and when I see Chad with the other Titans, I think this could easily be my first day of school all over again.

Isabelle and I are sitting in different places, but Chad and the guys are doing the same thing.

We’re far apart, but unlike that day only a few weeks ago, the look he’s giving me doesn’t produce the same terror.

I still feel that solace from last night as he held me on the edge of the cliff, and I have a feeling no matter how far I go—it could be to the end of the earth or to the moon—I’d still feel it.

He continues walking, but I watch him until he goes through the thicket of trees that lead to the science labs.

When I return my gaze to Isabelle, of course, she’s already looking at me. The mischief has turned to wild curiosity, and she’s laughing.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on with you two? Just so you know, I’m over here dying to know. I could drop dead from the suspense any minute now.”

We both laugh.

“You’re not going to drop dead.”

“The point is I could.” She nods vigorously. “So, tell me what’s going on.”

How can I tell her what’s going on when I can’t even explain it myself?

There are the bad parts—a.k.a. the contract. I could never breathe a word of that to anyone.

But there are the good parts which have evolved outside of the contract which I never anticipated. Ever.

“Well?” she prods.

“Can I tell you another time?” Like at the end of the contract.

Maybe I’d feel better to talk then, although I’m supposed to be leaving.

“You can. I am inferring that to be in the affirmative.” She drops her voice lower. “As in you’re seeing him. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, and if you thought I was going to judge you, I’m not. I’m not wired that way.”

“Thank you,” I answer, although I’m not confirming or denying anything—technically.

I look back to the empty trail Chad left behind. Even though he’s gone, and a group of students now fill my view, I still see him and still hear his words.

He called me his.

What would it be like to truly be his?

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