Chapter Eleven WILLOW

“We’re going out tonight,” Iris declares the moment we see each other in the hall Friday morning.

All Lancaster children who attend Lancaster Prep reside in a different building versus the dorms where everyone else stays. Our suites are larger and more private. The perks of being a Lancaster.

Withholding the sigh that wants to leave me, instead I ask, “Where exactly are we going?”

“There’s going to be a bonfire out by the old ruins,” Iris explains once I catch up to her. She falls into step beside me and we exit the building via the double doors. “The football team puts it all together. A way to celebrate the beginning of school and the start of football season.”

“Looks like it might rain,” I point out, frowning when we step outside. It’s cloudy and the air is chilly, which is disappointing.

I was hoping for sunny skies all weekend. Feels too early for clouds and rain.

“Rain or shine, they’re having this party. They did it last year too,” Iris explains. “It’s a lot of fun.”

“Will there be drinking?”

“Duh. Of course.” Iris grins.

“I don’t know …” My voice drifts and I startle when Iris makes a frustrated sound.

“Don’t think you can back out. You’re going.” Her voice is firm.

“Do you think Alana and Silas will be there?” I ask, my voice hushed as I glance around. I don’t want anyone hearing me.

“If they are, who cares? You’re going to ignore them.” She sends me a pointed look. “And flirt with other boys.”

“Like who?”

“Anyone but Silas. Forget that guy. He made his choice. Forget her too.” I can hear the vague pain in Iris’s voice and I recognize it because I feel the same way.

Is it worse because we lost a friend? I think so. Boys come and go, but a betrayal from a friend hurts the most. At least in my opinion.

“I wouldn’t flirt with him,” I say, practically running to keep up with her because suddenly, Iris’s stride is eating up the ground. She’s either mad or hungry. Maybe a combination of both—dangerous.

“Good. You need to forget about him and take a look around.” She abruptly stops and so do I, watching as she waves her arm around in a sweeping gesture. “There are plenty of boys on this campus who would die for a chance to talk to you.”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know.” Now she’s throwing both arms up in the air, her frustration obvious. I bet she didn’t expect me to ask that question. “We’re going to dress up and look freaking hot and make them chase after us all night. You in?”

This sounds like a nightmare, but I can’t refuse her. She won’t let me. “I’m in.”

The grin is back and she lunges toward me, wrapping me up in a tight hug. “We’re going to have so much fun tonight. You won’t regret going, I promise.”

“I hope not.” My voice is muffled against her chest since she’s taller, but I don’t think she heard me.

We enter the dining hall still laughing, ignoring everyone else as we each pick out our usual breakfast: wheat toast for me, sometimes with avocado but today, they don’t have it, and a double chocolate chip muffin for Iris. We always get the same coffee order too—iced caramel white chocolate mocha is Iris’s and I get a vanilla latte with skim milk.

I have to watch what I eat because it’s easy for me to gain weight, unlike Iris, who consumes whatever she wants and never gains an ounce. I envy her ability to eat like complete garbage and still manage to look stunning.

Once we’re seated at our usual table and I’ve had a few sips of coffee and am feeling somewhat human, I start glancing around the cavernous room with a critical eye. Iris is oblivious, too busy picking at her muffin and scrolling her phone, searching for hairstyle ideas for tonight.

I’m checking all the boys out, hoping I can see them in a new light. I realized Mom is right—there are plenty of boys who go to Lancaster Prep, those who are in my grade that might interest me. But who? So many of them I’ve gone to school with for what feels like forever, though I suppose that shouldn’t matter.

As I scan each table, noting the familiar faces, I realize they don’t do anything for me. I’ve known so many of them for so long, I can’t imagine feeling anything beyond a friendly fondness for any of them. The only one who I was interested in now belongs to someone else.

I spot him because of course I do. They’re seated together. Silas and Alana. Clear across the room sitting on one side of the table, right next to each other. It’s the perfect table where everyone can see them. Like me.

Did they do that on purpose? Knowing Alana, the answer is yes. She resented the fact that Iris and I are Lancasters and would always gripe that people were drawn to us because of our last name.

Not like we can help it. And she doesn’t even know what it feels like to have people want to spend time with us only because of our last name and what we can possibly do for people.

Alana catches me staring at them and she leans in toward Silas, curling her hand around the nape of his neck before she pulls him in close, her lips settling over his. I jerk my gaze away, embarrassed to be caught, mad at myself that I let her get to me.

I keep my gaze focused on my lap for a beat, taking a deep breath before I lift my head to find someone watching me a couple of tables over.

Rhett Bennett.

His expression is sleepy, his hair mussed. As if he just rolled out of bed, threw his uniform on—not all of it, he’s not wearing his jacket or tie—and stumbled into the dining hall to eat something. His plate is full of food and there’s a small chocolate milk carton to the right of his tray.

He drinks milk. How … cute.

His white button down stretches across his chest and is tight around his biceps, showing off just how muscular he is, and I can’t help but get caught up in his stare. And when he smiles at me, this closed-lipped, one-sided curve of his mouth, my stomach dips.

I’m suddenly breathless.

“Hey, I think we should do your hair like this.” Iris’s voice tears my attention away from Rhett, her sharp elbow seemingly digging into my ribs as she jabs me to get my attention. I glance down at her phone screen, studying the image she’s showing me. “Do you like it?”

“Sure.” I return my focus to Rhett, but he’s no longer looking at me. He’s laughing at something Brooks said, the joyous sound carrying over to our table, and I wish I knew what he thought was so funny.

“You okay, Willow?” When I frown at Iris, she continues, “You seem distracted.”

“I’m excited about tonight,” I tell her.

And I mean it.

The morning goes by like usual. By the time I’m entering my English class, I’m feeling anxious. Even a little nervous? It all has to do with seeing Rhett, which might be silly, but I can’t help it.

Could I actually like him? Everything is happening so fast and maybe I’m just getting caught up in it all. He certainly seems determined to get my attention, and while I suppose he’s like that with plenty of girls, maybe I really do interest him. Or maybe not.

He can be rude sometimes. Pushy. Arrogant. But there’s something just beneath it all—like he wants to get to know me. He doesn’t seem to care about the Lancaster name either, which is downright refreshing.

I’ve arrived in English relatively early, since my last class is so close to this one, and I settle in at my desk, pulling out The Great Gatsby from my backpack and setting it on my desk, along with my notebook.

“Hey, Willow.”

I glance up to find Silas standing next to my desk, a friendly smile on his face. I fight the disappointment filling me, hoping it doesn’t show. “Hi, Silas.”

“How are you? Glad it’s Friday?”

Alana isn’t with him, which is odd. They always seem to come to this class together, but there’s no way I’m asking him where she is. “Definitely,” I say with a nod.

“Same.” He shifts his feet, briefly glancing over his shoulder before he returns his attention to me. “Look, I was hoping we could talk sometime.”

I rest my hands on top of my desk, curling them together. Us talking is probably a terrible idea. I’m sure Alana wouldn’t like it. “What is there to talk about?”

His brows draw together and he seems adorably confused. Ugh, I hate that I just mentally used the word adorable about him. “I-I thought you might want to talk about—”

“Yo, Lancaster. Looking good this morning.”

Rhett’s familiar voice washes over me, making butterflies flutter in my stomach, and I look to my left to see Rhett standing on the other side of my desk, a fierce expression on his face that is the complete opposite of his friendly tone.

“Hi, Rhett. And, um, thank you.” I smile at him, noting that he’s wearing his uniform jacket, but his tie is still missing.

“You interrupted us,” Silas tells him, sounding vaguely out of sorts. Even mad.

“Whoa, didn’t know you were having a private conversation.” Rhett throws his hands up in a defensive gesture, completely unfazed.

“Well, we were.”

Rhett’s gaze meets mine for the briefest moment, questioning. I just shrug, which seems to please him. “Where’s your girlfriend?” Silas’s cheeks turn ruddy at Rhett’s question. “None of your damn business.”

“Maybe you should go find her.”

“Maybe you should go sit down.”

“There’s no need for the two of you to get angry,” I say, trying to diffuse the situation. Because seriously, what is happening right now?

“Stay out of it, Willow.” This comes from Silas, and his dismissive tone lights something within me that isn’t pleasant.

No, more like I’m pissed.

Leaping to my feet, I turn toward him, eager to let him have it. “There’s nothing to stay out of, Silas. I agree with Rhett. Maybe you should go find Alana.”

The wounded look on Silas’s face isn’t adorable. Not at all. With one last scathing glare cast in Rhett’s direction, Silas leaves us alone, settling into his desk at the front of the classroom. Alana glides in within seconds, sitting next to him and keeping up a steady stream of one-sided conversation, oblivious to the tension that filled the room not even ten seconds ago.

“Damn, Lancaster. You’re hot when you’re angry.”

I whirl on Rhett, trying to ignore the way my skin prickles with awareness at his casual compliment. “He was being a jerk.”

“For real.”

“You were too,” I’m quick to point out. “Sort of.”

“He needs to stop sniffing around you.” Rhett sits in the desk behind mine, his big body sprawled out like he can’t contain himself into such a small space. I suppose he can’t, considering how tall and broad he is.

What he just said slowly sinks into my brain and I gape at him for a moment, at a loss for words. “Did you just say that Silas is sniffing around me?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “I did. And he needs to stop. He’s got a girlfriend. He doesn’t need to lead you on or whatever the hell it is that he’s doing.”

“He’s not leading me on,” I insist as I sit back down. I’m agitated by the near fight between them. Were they fighting over … me?

No. Impossible.

Rhett actually snorts. “If you say so.”

I keep my back to him, watching our teacher enter the room and head straight to her desk, my brain going over what Rhett said again and again until finally I can’t take it anymore. Turning in my seat, I find he’s already watching me, one brow lifted in question. “Why would he lead me on anyway?”

“Why wouldn’t he? If the most beautiful girl on this campus acted like she was into me, I’d want to lead her on too. Though I wouldn’t be leading her on. I’d be just as interested, and what makes it even better? I don’t have a girlfriend.” He smiles, like what he just said was no big deal.

While I gape at him, shocked by pretty much every word that came out of his mouth, I snap my lips shut, about to ask him another question when the bell rings, and Mrs. Patel immediately starts talking.

Effectively ending the most interesting conversation I’ve had with Rhett yet.

I reluctantly turn around in my seat, facing forward, offering a weak “here” when my name is called. Rhett shifts in his seat, drawing closer. Close enough that I can smell him, and as subtly as I can, I breathe him in, savoring his scent before I slowly exhale.

“You coming to the bonfire tonight, Will?”

His voice is low, his warm breath brushing against the back of my neck, making me tremble. “Yes.”

“Good.” He sounds pleased. “Maybe we can talk more then. Unless you plan on continuing your conversation with Silas there.”

I glance over my shoulder, glaring at him as he settles back into his seat. “Did you invite him?”

“It’s not up to me. It’s a blanket invitation to anyone who wants to come. If he shows, he shows.” Rhett shrugs. “If I had my way, he wouldn’t be there.”

“Why not?”

“Then I wouldn’t have to worry about him sniffing around you.”

I make a face. “That’s such a gross term. Sniffing around.”

“What else would you call it? Oh, I know. Something more polite. Like, showing interest in you. That sounds way nicer.”

I straighten my shoulders, vaguely offended. “It does.”

“Look, I’m just calling it like I see it, Will. And that guy is definitely interested in you. I don’t care if he has a girlfriend. I think he’d like to have you too.”

A week ago, this would’ve given me hope, even if the entire situation is completely hopeless. I still would’ve been tempted by the idea of Silas wanting to be with me, though there’s no way I would’ve agreed to see him if he was with Alana. I’m not a cheater, and I’m not about to be the other woman either.

The idea of Silas liking me now, though? I don’t know.

Sounds like more trouble than it’s worth.