Page 105 of Riot Act
“Oh my god! WREN! COME AND GET YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!”
“He’s not here.”
“Then why areyou?Are you just randomly loitering around the house now? What the fuck?”
Elodie shakes her head, ignoring me. “I see you, y’know. I know that this is all for show.”
“The hell are you talking about?” I swear to everything holy, if she doesn’t get the hell out of my room in the next three seconds, I’m going to drag her out by her fucking pigtails.
“You shut everyone out. You build up high walls to keep people away, but you can’t fool me. Youwantto be close to people.”
“I have no idea what I’ve ever done to give you the impression that I want to be this close toyou, but I’d like to clarify right now by telling you that I definitely, categorically, donot.”
“If you didn’t want to be close to people, you wouldn’t live here in this house. You’d have your own place. Or your own room at the academy. You wouldn’t have chosen to live specifically with Dash and Wren. You wouldn’t drive them everywhere. You wouldn’t be so bent out of shape because they got girlfriends. You wouldn’t be so pissed that you’re not all going to the same college—”
“There’s still time for them to see sense and stick to the original plan,” I say icily.
“See.” Elodie throws up her hands. “My point exactly. You want connection with people. It’s important to you. You just don’t know how to handle it.”
“Your argument’s fucking stupid. Dash and Wren are my brothers. Of course I wanna be around them. I just don’t wanna be around their girlfriends.”
“Because you’re worried that Carrie and I are gonna take them away from you.”
I let out a frustrated groan, hurling back the bedsheets the rest of the way. I’m wearing nothing but a pair of boxers; I usually sleep naked, so Stillwater’s lucky I’m even wearing those. She does a commendable job of maintaining eye contact as I stalk toward her around the bed. With what little patience I have left, I turn her as gently as I can manage and shove her toward the door.
“I could just put you on your ass again, y’know,” she gripes. She probably could, too. The little terror is frighteningly good at Krav Maga.
“Go for your life. But do me a favor and knock me the fuck out this time. Put me out of my misery. At least that way I won’t have to listen to you spout this inane bullshit.”
She spins on me in the doorway, stabbing me in the chest with a painted black fingernail. “We’re not gonna take them away from you, Pax. If you weren’t being such a stubborn butthead, you’d see that. And if you could stop being so scared for five seconds and justtalkto me, you might realize that youlikeme, and that we can be friends, too.”
I can feel the scathing laughter bubbling up the back of my throat. I tamp it down, holding it back, though I let the sour smirk forming on my face have full rein. “I’m done makingfriendswith silly Wolf Hall girls, Elodie. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m working on developing a severe case of tinnitus. Have a wonderful day.” I slam the door closed in her face. I lock it this time.
40
PRES
“What if no one comes?”
Dad stands in front of the mirror, frowning at his reflection. He’s wearing a brand-new black tailored shirt and a pair of new black jeans that he bought in Boston four days ago. The white sneakers (also brand new) contrast with his all-black outfit. I warned him not to wear them—they’re way too cool for him—telling him to go for a pair of black leather dress shoes instead, but he rejected my unsolicited advice out of hand. And he was right to. He’s my father. I always assume he should wear old man clothes to match his old man state of mind, but the truth is that he’s not that old at all.
He can still pull off this kind of wardrobe. He looks great, and I tell him so. “And you’ve got nothing to worry about. People are gonna come. Everyone’s been talking about this place opening for weeks. Even some of the faculty have been asking about it. And all of my friends are coming. It’s gonna be a massive hit.”
Dad pulls a doubtful face at himself in the mirror. “Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart. I’m incredibly grateful that you’ve asked all of your friends to come, but a sea of rowdy eighteen-year-olds isn’t really the crowd I was hoping for on my opening night.”
I scowl at him, spinning him around so I can unfasten the top button of his shirt; he looks like he can hardly breathe. “Why? You hate money or something?” I ask sarcastically. “One of those rowdy eighteen-year-olds coming here tonight will probably have more disposable income that five of the local families. You shouldn’t be so quick to turn up your nose.”
He sticks out his tongue at me. “All right, all right. Fair point. I suppose a big night on takings is better than empty seats. And all of the academy students will be leaving soon. I’ll hit the locals then.”
I wish he hadn’t reminded me. There’s one week left of school now. One. Week. In seven days exactly, graduation will be over and done with and everyone will leave Wolf Hall. Everyone will pack up their rooms, and a line of Lincoln Town Cars will block the road that leads up the mountain, and one by one, the people I have spent the last four years of my life with will slowly disappear out into the world. I’ll see Elodie and Carrie again, of course. I might not be going to Europe with them, but there will be holidays and plenty of other opportunities for us to hang out.
Pax, though.
Pax will be leaving, and I probably won’t see him again. That shouldn’t sting as brightly as it does. I’ve barely communicated with him at all over the past two weeks. I’ve seen him in class, of course, but there have been no texts. He hasn’t shown up in my room again. I haven’t gone to the house. We’ve traded chapter for chapter, working surprisingly quickly on our novel project, but apart from that, he’s been a ghost.
The restaurant opening goes off without a hitch. The place is packed to the rafters. Dad checks his phone every ten minutes, fussing over the screen in between greeting his customers and explaining the menu he’s curated for the night’s celebrations. I help seat people, a smile plastered to my face that doesn’t even slip when I see Elodie walk in on the arm of Wren Jacobi—I should have known that Wren would be here tonight. Where Elodie goes, so does he. Carrie and Dash walk in right behind them. My heart seizes in my chest, waiting for Pax to stroll in after them. But he doesn’t.
“Oh my god, this place looks amazing!” Carrie spins around, taking the place in, as I show them over to a table for four.
