Page 134 of The Jack*ss in Class

I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him my own sister had betrayed me. His family was so damn perfect, and mine...just wasn’t. So I’d said the only other thing I could think of.

“Tempest.” Flynn’s voice softened. “What’s really going on? And don’t tell me ‘nothing’. I can hear it in your tone.”

I sighed, relenting. “It’s Rosalind. She’s been spying on me, reading my emails, even had Mrs. Henderson searching through my things. She’s the one who leaked my identity.”

“What?” Flynn’s expression darkened. “Your own sister did that?”

“To protect her future political career, she said,” I confirmed, the bitter taste of betrayal still fresh.

“I’m going over there and Burrito and I are going to... well, we don’t hit girls, but we will give her a very stern talking to.”

“I’d love to see that,” I whispered. “But honestly, I think she’s hurting just as much as I am. She can’t handle seeing me live authentically. I think I forced her to look at her own life, her choices. And sometimes that’s too painful.”

“You deserve to celebrate who you are, Tempest. All of who you are. The brilliant student, the best-selling author, the woman I love. Which is why we’re absolutely going to KATman.”

“But I don’t have a dress,” I sighed. “And I’m not sure I’m in a celebrating mood anymore.”

“That’s exactly when you should celebrate,” he insisted. “When the world tries to make you feel small or wrong or not enough. That’s when you put on something gorgeous and dance anyway.”

His quiet determination warmed something inside me. “That’s a lovely sentiment, but KATman is three days away, and I’ve tried every store in Denver.”

“Trust me?” His voice shifted to something determined, almost secretive.

“I do,” I said automatically.

Two days later, I returned to my room after class to find a large white box sitting on my bed, a gold ribbon tied around it. Parker sat cross-legged on her own bed, practically vibrating with excitement.

“It came about an hour ago,” she said before I could ask. “With very specific instructions not to peek.”

I approached the box cautiously. A small card tucked under the ribbon read “For my queen. For KATman and beyond. All my love, Flynn.”

My hands trembled slightly as I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in layers of tissue paper, was a dress that took my breath away. It was deepest black, trimmed with silver. The colors of the LA Bandits. The dress shimmered with subtle constellations when the fabric moved. The design was elegantly cut to flatter curves rather than hide them, with a neckline that would show just enough skin to be alluring.

“Oh my god,” Parker breathed, peering over my shoulder. “That’s a Rose Vond original. She makes clothes for royalty and pop stars and stuff. They’re, like, impossible to get.”

I lifted the dress carefully from the box, finding a smaller box beneath. Inside was a delicate silver necklace with a pendant in the shape of a crown that would nestle perfectly above my cleavage.

Tears blurred my vision as I clutched the dress to my chest.

“You have to try it on,” Parker urged, already clearing space in front of our full-length mirror.

The dress fit perfectly, as if Rose Vond had somehow slipped into our room in the dark of night and measured me herself. The fabric flowed over my curves like water, the color making my skin glow. For perhaps the first time in my life, I looked at my reflection and saw not the girl who took up too much space, who didn’t quite fit, but a woman who filled her space exactly as she was meant to.

KATMAN COUPLE GOALS

FLYNN

Ichecked my reflection one more time in the rearview mirror, straightening my tie. The designer Jules had connected me with, Rose Vond, had made me a matching suit to go with the dress she made for Tempest. I felt like frickin’ James Bond in it.

The KAT house loomed ahead, lit up like Christmas with white fairy lights outlining the Victorian architecture. I grabbed the small box containing the corsage I’d ordered, a cluster of tiny white star-shaped flowers with silver accents that would complement the dress I’d given her, and headed up the walkway. Music and laughter spilled from the open windows. The excitement of KATman was in full swing.

The door opened before I could knock. Mrs. Henderson stood there, her thin lips pressed into a disapproving line. After finding out about her role in Rosalind’s espionage, I had to fight the urge to tell the old witch exactly what I thought of her.

Instead, I channeled my most respectful, media-trained smile. “Good evening, Mrs. Henderson. I’m here for Tempest.”

“Mr. Kingman.” Her gaze traveled from my face down to my shoes and back up again, clearly searching for something to criticize. “You may wait in the foyer. The young ladies are still getting ready.”

She stepped aside reluctantly, allowing me to enter the house that had become so familiar over the past few months. The foyer was buzzing with activity, KAT sisters in formal dresses, their dates in suits and tuxes, everyone laughing and taking photos.

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