Page 104 of Riot Rules
“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Presley whispers quietly.
“Hmm?”
“The last time we went to a Riot House party, we were with Mara. I know…” Pres sighs heavily. “She wasn’t the best friend a person could hope for, but I still loved having her around most of the time. I stillmissher.”
I sigh, too, mirroring Presley’s melancholy. “I know, babe. I understand. I really miss her, too.”
* * *
I make my excuses and head to the party before Presley, knowing that she’ll be safe enough walking down with Elodie in an hour or so. I donotwant to enter Riot House alone, but I don’t really have much of a choice if I want to find Wren and speak to him before Elodie arrives. When I reach the house, I realize that my plan isn’t going to work out anyway, because the place is bumping and there are so many Wolf Hall students already here, jostling for space on the house’s ground floor. I’ll be lucky if I can evenfindWren before Elodie shows up, let alone have a conversation with him.
And naturally, because the universe is still punishing me for being a naïve little fool last year, the first person I bump into is Dash. He’s wearing a plain black button-down shirt and grey pants. My heart skips several beats and takes a nosedive off a cliff when I set eyes on him. He looks fucking amazing.
He stiffens when he sees me, standing a little taller, lowering the bottle of bourbon he was trying to open to his side. “I didn’t think you were gonna come.”
“Because you warned me not to? That was the perfect way to guarantee Iwouldcome.”
His mouth twitches. He almost smiles. “You always were very stubborn, weren’t you?”
“Andyoualways were fond of drinking away your problems, weren’t you?” I never used to be like this. Mean. Angry. This is what Dash turned me into. I know I’m being a bitch, and the words I lashed at him aren’t really true. Dash used to drink before he and I were a thing. He used to drinka lot, and there was an implication of heavy drug use, too, but that all changed when we began seeing each other. He came to me every night, and he was sober as a judge the entire time. No alcohol. No drugs. And loathe as I am to admit it, I’ve watched him plenty since we broke up. He never drinks at the academy anymore. I don’t know what he does in the privacy of his own room, but I doubt he’s drinking there, either. His eyes are always clear. Whenever Wren and Pax seem dusty from their midnight misadventures, Dash always seems as though he’s mentally sharp and quietly ready for anything.
He does smile now, very sadly, as he looks down at the bourbon. “It’s not for me. It’s for the punch. I ordered some fucking vol-au-vents and finger food. I just want to get this whole thing over with. Figured making some cocktails would keep me busy.”
The way he talks, you’d thinkhewas suffering, not me. It’s been months and months since the incident at the observatory. I’m sure he’s been fucking around and enjoying himself ever since then. He’s probably slept with more girls since last July than the total amount of men I will sleep with in my entire lifetime. He can tell me that he cared about me and tell me he still loves me as much as he likes, but it’s all lies, isn’t it? Just another stage in this hurtful game he’s playing with me. I hate that my chest constricts when I see the expression on his face, though—as if he’s in pain.
“Cool. Well I hope that works out for you. Have you seen Wren?”
He frowns. “Wren?”
“I need to talk to him.”
“What about?”
“You don’t get to know my business anymore, Dash. It’s personal. Have you seen him or not?” My lungs feel like they’re full of broken glass. I hate myself. Don’t even recognize myself. I have no clue who this cold, hateful monster is or where she came from, but I can’t rein her in when I’m around this guy. I wish she’d go away, but I’m also scared for her to leave. She’s been the only thing keeping me together for a long time now.
“He’s in the kitchen.”
“Great.” I don’t thank him. I show him my back and squeeze my way through the crowd, not giving him a chance to say anything further. I find Wren standing in front of the fridge in the kitchen, right where Dash said he’d be. He slams the door closed and goes rigid when he sees me standing there. I thought he’d roll his eyes or something, but the frustrated, disinterested reaction doesn’t come.
“Mendoza.” He gives me a tight smile. “So glad you could join us.”
“You really suck at lying. You should probably hang out with your sister some more. Or Dash. They’re bothexcellentliars. I’m sure you could learn a thing or two.”
Wren unscrews the lid off a jar of tiny pickles he’s holding and pops one into his mouth. “First of all, I am the most accomplished liar this side of Boston. Second, Dash is a fuckinghorribleliar. When he lied about hooking up with you, for instance. Saw through that bullshit a mile away.” He holds the open jar out to me. “Cornichon?”
I bat it away. “No, I do not want a cor—oh my god. Urgh. I want to talk to you about Elodie.”
“I bet you do.” He walks away from me, sauntering toward the living room.
“She had a difficult past, Wren. She’s not some plaything for you to use and discard when you’re—”
He stops abruptly, and I almost walk into his back. His eyes are like polished jade, sparking with anger when he turns on me. “Who said I was playing? Who said I wasevergoing to discard her? And don’t you think I know far more about her difficult past than you do?”
“So you’re not going to make her fall in love with you and then break her heart? That’s not the whole point of this?”
“No. It might have been at the beginning, but…” He slams the jar down on the sideboard, growling angrily at the back of his throat. “I didn’t make her fall in love with me.Ifell in love withher, okay. And I’m doing my best to make sure I don’t lose her, but thanks to you and that fucking diary—”
“Thediary?”
