Page 91 of Rules, Roses, and Rivals
Rachel groaned behind her. “Constantly. It’s infuriating.”
Frankie still hadn’t moved. “You hate dancing.”
“I hate standing still more.”
Another beat.
Then, finally, she took my hand.
We didn’t reallydanceso much as sway lazily near the fire pit while the chaos bloomed around us—someone did, in fact,start synchronized splashing, and someone else found the fog machine. But I kept her close, one hand on her waist, the other twined through her fingers.
“Epic move,” she murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.
I leaned in, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You deserve nothing less.”
She didn’t pull away.
I didn’t let go.
And as the lights spun wild across the backyard and the gossip drowned under a tidal wave of bass and tequila, I thought—maybe this was what power looked like.
Not control.
Not fear.
Choice.
I’d choose her. Every time.
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
FRANKIE
Iwoke up to a text from Rachel, five missed calls from my mom beginning the night before, three absolutely starving cats who were wasting away to nothing thanks to me not getting up with the sun. There was even a bag with two apple fritters in it taped to my back door with a note that read:Eat, you’re a war hero - R.
They smelled great. But I was still on autopilot. I’d left my phone in do not disturb while I fed the cats, made coffee, ate half of a fritter before throwing myself into a shower. It wasn’t exactlylatemorning but it was just barely eight. My brain started winding up as soon as the hot water hit me.
Everything from the night before rushed back in. The stares. The whispering.Jake. The study.Jake again. Archie with the microphone playing it up like he was some drunk socialite Bruce Wayne capturing everyone’s attention and more, their obedience. The whole tone of the party flipped on its axis because he took up my defense.
The chaos didn’t rattle me so much. It was just soArchieand then he asked me to dance. We had, several times. I danced with Mathieu too, but Archie kept coming back and by the time Mathieu and I were leaving, I wasn’t as mad anymore.
While I could handle the chaos, the quiet left me floundering. Today was the dayafterand that always meant choices. It meant social media posts. It meant the casual little digs and the gossip that would roll through the school like some majestic dominoes display tumbling brick by brick.
After my shower, I took turns drinking my coffee and drying off before I got dressed. Coffee made the brain cells work. I would need them working today for sure. Once I was dressed in shorts and a tank top, my damp hair combed and hanging free to dry, I finally started scrolling through the messages on my phone.
Mathieu sent me a text around midnight right as I was falling asleep.Let me treat you to breakfast tomorrow. No secrets. Just us. Okay?
I hadn’t answered him then. Mostly cause my brain had been shutting down, but we’d talked some when I drove him back to his host family’s house. Didn’t make the knots in my stomach any less tense.
Back in the kitchen, I refilled my coffee and finished the first fritter. I wrapped the other one up in its paper bag. I would save it for later. The cats had begun to scatter after they’d eaten, though Tiddles hung out with me, sitting on the windowsill and grooming himself.
It was a little weird how disconnected I felt at the moment. I wasn’t broken or sick. I didn’t feel like I’d won anything or survived it either. I was justme. A little more scarred, a little more alone, and little more certain that no matter what I did, my best friends might not be that for much longer.
At least, not all of them.
Jake.
