Page 80 of The Friend Scheme
“I want to hear it from you. Who are you?”
“I’m Jason. You know me.”
“But what’s your last name?”
He lowers his hands and looks into my eyes. My whole body sort of aches.
“Donovan,” he says. “Should I stop?” he asks.
I shake my head.
He grabs me by the shirt, pulls me to him, and kisses me again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I kissed Jason Donovan.
I’d be totally lying if I said I regret it. Because I straight-up don’t.
But it might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. It might be the stupidest thing anyone haseverdone.
He’s a Donovan, and I’m a Miller. We’re supposed to be mortal enemies. We shouldn’t even be friends. And yet, I keep finding myself thinking about how it felt.
Right now I’m standing at the back of a ballroom. It’s the Miller ball, so everyone around me is either from our family or one who’s allied with us. It’s a totally over-the-top spectacle, complete with waiters in white suits serving canapés. There’s also this massive swan ice sculpture in the middle of the room. A band in tuxedos is at the back, playing slow classical music.
The room we’re in is pretty over-the-top, too. The walls are this pretty soft gold color, and a crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling. I wonder how much it’s worth… and how many people were hurt so our family can afford all of this.
It’s cool, but also probably not worth however much it cost.
But who cares.
I kissed a Donovan.
I keep finding myself thinking about how it felt to be kissed by him. Because seriously: He’s agreatkisser. He acted like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he’s done it a bunch before. I get all the hype about kissing now, because there’s nothing else like it.I don’t know how people do anything other than make out all the time.
It was my first kiss, but I know it was a good one. That was the kind of kiss people write songs about. It was magical and perfect, and I want almost desperately to do it again.
I can’t, though.
I went to the dance to find out if my theory is correct. To find out his last name.
Now that I know what it is, I can’t ever see him again.
Donovans and Millers have hated each other for so long. Dad has told me countless stories about what treacherous, bad people they are. Like Victoria Donovan, who is the reason hard drugs are so popular with many of the youth of the city. She targeted them and made the drugs readily available. And then there’s Christopher Donovan, who killed five people over a debt of five grand. He wiped out a whole family because the poor sucker who loaned from him couldn’t pay him back on time.
This is the story I’ve heard, over and over.
Donovans are the most selfish, awful people around. They can never be trusted. The only good thing to do with them is kill them.
Because as much as we’re criminals, at least Millers care about the people of the city. We make ourselves rich at the same time, too, sure. But we’re forgiving. And considerate. And we never put ourselves above the general well-being of the city. People like illegal stuff, and we’re happy to provide it.
Jason acts a lot more like us than any Donovan I’ve ever heard of.
I turn my attention back to the ball. I’m surprised it’s even going on, given everyone knows about the Donovans’ scheme now.
As long as I never talk to him about my family, he can’t ruin my life. Right?
No.
