Page 103 of Riot Rules
Fine. Thatwascold. But I can’t waste energy on anyone else right now. I actually like Elodie. Despite the hypocrisy of Wren’s position, Elodie’s actually been good for him. I say something next that I probably shouldn’t. “The only person I care about is you, Carina. I think I've made that abundantly clear. If you don't wanna hear that, then that's your business. I get it. I fucked up. We can deal with that another time, though.Now give it to me.”
She doesn’t say a word about what I’ve just said. She reacted badly enough in English class. Now she just glares at me balefully. “Fine. Here, Lord Lovett. You always get your way, don’t you?”
She slaps Mara’s journal into my hand, aggressive enough that the leather stings against my palm. “Rarely, actually,” I whisper.
“Why are you protecting him like this? He’s not your friend. You know that, right? He might act like it, but he just uses people to get what he wants.”
My friendship with Wren is more complicated than Carrie will ever know. I never got around to telling her what he did for me. She looks at our friendship and sees nothing but the faults and the flaws. If she had any idea how much I owe Wren, she wouldn’t be saying these things. Angry as she is and looking to hurt me somehow, she’d have to find some other fucked-up area of my life to weaponize. Wouldn’t be too hard.
Now isn’t the time to tell her what went down back in Surrey. That was a long time ago, and there are more pressing things to attend to. So, I say nothing, which only antagonizes her further.
“What? You’re not going to defend him?” she whispers. “What about Fitz? The man’s a fucking psychopath. Are you gonna let him hold this power over your head for the rest of time? That’d be so messed up! He’ll never give you a moment’s peace.”
“Maybe you’re right. But high school’s nearly over, Carrie. We’ll all be going off to follow our own paths in life. I’ll probably never see him again. Until then, I have to see him all the fucking time, and I’mnotrisking him opening his mouth and blabbing to everyone about what went down that fucking night.”
The fucking drugs. If Wren hadn’t left that goddamn box out with all of those baggies inside of it, we wouldn’t be in this position now. As long as Fitz has that box, we’re all fucked. And as long as this journal exists, there’s a chance the cops will come across it and want to speak to our English teacher about his involvement with Mara Bancroft.
That can’t be allowed to happen.
“Oh my god, what are you going to—” Carrie’s too late. I’ve already tossed the journal into the fire. The flames take it, licking at the leather, singeing the pages and filling the gazebo with the bitter smell of smoke. Carrie stares at me, eyes boring into my face, her mouth a flat, tight line, her cheeks wet with tears. She looks like she’s thinking about slapping me. Rather than attack me, she lets out a choked sob, and then turns and bolts out of the gazebo.
“Carina, wait!”
The still night air echoes with my shout.
She stops. Turns.
“We’ve all made mistakes, okay. Big ones. I don’t think we should have to keep on paying for them like this.”
Carrie sniffs back more tears. “Are you talking about whathedid? Or whatyoudid tome?”
I don’t know whichheshe’s referring to now. It could be Wren or Fitz at this stage. What does it even fucking matter? I look up at the night sky, trying to magic some courage from the heavens, something that will make this easier. “Yeah. I’m talking about what I did to you. I hate it, okay. I hate that I hurt you. I let things spiral out of control and I took a wrong turn. I’ve regretted it every single day since then. When are you going to forgive me?”
It's laughable, I know. She has no idea that I didn’t let Amalie suck my dick. She has no idea that her psychotic guardian forced my hand and gave me little choice about what I had to do next, so I could keep hersafe. So, why would she forgive me? From her perspective, I’m a monster. A cheating asshole who ruined her life. I should tell her everything that happened, but Ican’tnow. It’s too late. Too much has happened. Too much water has passed under the bridge, too many months dragged by with both of us in pain. The pain is a part of us now. And telling Carina that her guardian spilled her secrets to me will only cause more pain, I think.
She meets my gaze in the moonlight, her face lit up and shining. My beautiful Stellaluna. “I don’t know,” she says. “When areyougoing to learn that your position in life doesn’t automatically entitle you to a do-over whenever you fuck up?
48
CARRIE
I hada root canal a couple of years ago. One of the molars that Jason cracked with his fist finally got infected and I had to get it taken care of. It was one of the most miserable, most painful experiences of my life. I break out in a cold sweat when I think about going to the dentist’s now, but I would rather undergo ten back-to-back root canal procedures than go to this party tonight.
I told Elodie I wasn’t going to go but I don’t really have a choice. Ifshegoes, then Ihaveto. I can’t let her wander into something blind over there. I’d never forgive myself if she got caught up in some next-level Riot House bullshit.
This party, for some ungodly reason, is fancy dress. I tag along with Pres toParty Empireand pick out a skimpy little Mad Hatter costume, not really paying any attention or caring what I’m choosing in the slightest. Pres opts for a grotesque Beetlejuice outfit that looks like black and white pajamas—not sexy in any way—but she seems excited about it, so I don’t ask questions.
We chat at the checkout, waiting to pay for our stuff. “Mercy was dropping Elodie’s dress off at her room earlier. It’s beautiful,” Pres says. “There are crystals all over the bodice. She’s gonna look like a little fairy in it. She said that Wren bought it for her. Do you think—” She frowns, cutting herself off, stealing a sideways glance at me.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
I force a smile, looping my arm through hers. We’re nearly at the register now. I’ve barely said more than two words since we left the academy. Poor Pres has been talking to herself for the past hour and a half, and it dawns on me that I’m being a really shitty friend. “I’m sorry, babe. Go on. What were you going to say?”
“Well. Everything’s been happening behind closed doors. It always does here. But…don’t you think Wren seems different? Do you think maybe…that it’s possible for the Riot House boys to change?”
Oh, Presley. Sweet girl. It’s pretty obvious why she’s asking this. She wants to believe that it’s possible, because it gives her something to hope for. If Wren Jacobi, the most fucked up Riot House boy of all, can reform and become a good person, then what’s stopping Pax from doing the same? I squeeze her arm, resting my head on her shoulder. “Sorry, babe. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but…no. I don’t think that any of them can change. I think it’s only a matter of time before Wren does something to hurt Elodie. All we can do now is be there for her when it happens.” I hate this jaded, miserable thing that I’ve become. I hate crushing Presley’s hope. She’s forgotten all about how badlyIwas crushed, though. I believed Dash had changed and look where that got me. I couldn’t bare it if Pres got her heart broken, too. She’s not like me or Elodie. We’re made from sterner stuff. Elodie will survive if and when Wren lets her down, just like I did, but Presley’s sensitive. Her skin’s not as thick as it would need to be if she wanted to tangle with Pax. Fuck, her skin could be made out of Kevlar and she still wouldn’t be tough enough—
