Chapter Six WILLOW

Anticipation ripples through me as I wait for him to say something. Anything. Feels like I’m hanging on the edge of a cliff at the moment, which is silly.

Of course, Rhett takes his time. As if he knows he has me dangling by a thread, just dying to hear him compliment me.

I am not this girl. I don’t think I’ve ever been this girl. The one who needs validation from a boy in order to feel better about herself, but I’m hurting from Alana’s casually cruel treatment and wondering if she laughed at me with Silas.

That hurts. More than I’d ever care to admit.

“Do you really need me to tell you?” he finally asks, his brows shooting up. They’re darker than his hair, which is a golden brown, though not as light as the hair on his arms. He’s a mass of various colors. “You look in the mirror every day, don’t you?”

Disappointment fills me and I can’t help but sigh. “Right. Sorry.” Why did I just apologize? I’m only making things worse.

I turn on my heel, ready to walk away with my virtual tail tucked between my legs because this is embarrassing.

“Hey, whoa. Where you going, Willy?” I can hear him calling out to me, which only makes me walk faster.

But then I hear footsteps coming up behind me and next thing I know, he’s touching my arm. The moment his fingers make contact—even through my jacket and shirt—my skin sizzles where he touches me. I jerk away from his hold and turn on him, the ball of anger growing inside my chest about ready to burst out of me.

“Oops, I mean Will,” he corrects, no doubt after he saw the feral look in my eyes. “Why’d you take off?”

“Our conversation was going nowhere.” I offer him a wan smile, trying to play off the fact that not even five seconds ago I was furious at him.

My emotions are all over the place. I need to take a couple of deep breaths and regain my composure.

“You wanted to hear me tell you how fucking beautiful you are, right?” His tone is so serious, as is the look on his face.

I suck in a sharp breath, startled by his brutal honesty. The curse word. I’m used to bad language because both of my brothers are the worst, which they get from Dad, but I’m more like Mom. She rarely uses foul language and I’m the same.

I’m also not used to gorgeous boys making such bold statements about …

Me.

“I …” The words die on my lips and my entire mouth goes dry.

“It’s true, you know. That you’re beautiful.” He takes a step back, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You should come watch me practice sometime.”

I’m frowning. I can feel the crease between my eyebrows deepen. “Is that a thing?”

“Watching me play? It’s definitely a thing. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” He grins.

The ego on this boy …

“I don’t know if I have time.” I shrug, trying to play this off. And really?

Watching him play football sounds boring.

“You should try and fit me into your busy schedule.” His smile is faint, just a gentle curve of one side of his mouth, not revealing any teeth, and I can’t help but smile back. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

“You don’t even know me …” My voice drifts and I slowly shake my head, a huff of laughter escaping me. “Who put you up to this?”

The smile fades. Now he’s frowning. “What are you talking about? Put me up to what?”

“Talking to me.”

“Nobody put me up to anything. Maybe I wanted to.” His frown deepens. “What, are you trying to tell me that guys at this school don’t talk to you?”

I shrug, feeling helpless. Wishing I had Iris with me.

No. I don’t need Iris to have a conversation with a boy I don’t know. I can do this on my own. I don’t need my “guard dog” taking care of me all the time.

“They’re idiots,” he mutters when he realizes I’m not going to give him a verbal answer. “You’re like, the hottest girl I’ve ever seen on this stupid campus.”

My cheeks go hot and he notices.

“I’m serious,” he tells me. “I mean, look at you.”

“There is nothing special about me,” I murmur, and he actually bursts out laughing.

I stand there, waiting for him to finish, but he just keeps laughing. To the point that I start to feel uncomfortable and I’m shuffling my feet. Ready to make my escape when he finally says, “You look pretty fuckin’ special to me.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Definitely.”

“Are you—flirting with me?”

“If you can’t tell, then I’m doing a shit job of it.” He grins.

My heart trips over itself.

“Willow! There you are!”

I turn to see Iris making her way toward us, her eyes full of curiosity at finding me talking to Rhett.

“Hey,” I say weakly to my cousin, scared her appearance might make him leave.

Though maybe that’s a good thing. My stomach is currently tied up in knots over this weird conversation.

“Rhett, leave my cousin alone,” Iris tells him, her tone faintly teasing. I send her a dirty look, though she doesn’t even notice.

“No harm in me talking to Will here.” His smile reaches his eyes and they’re sparkling when they meet mine. God, he’s handsome. He has a nice smile. Straight white teeth. “See ya later this afternoon?”

“Maybe,” I tell him, nibbling on my lower lip.

“A girl of mystery. I like it.” He starts walking backward, heading away from us, his gaze never straying from mine when he says, “See you around, Lancaster.”

He finally turns and strides away, his steps brisk.

Iris remains quiet until there’s plenty of distance between us and Rhett before she finally says something.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing.” I start toward the creative arts building, where my next class is. The lunch period is practically over anyway so I may as well head on over. “We were just—talking.”

“Flirting?”

That single worded question fills me with disappointment. The fact that she automatically assumes he was flirting with me tells me he does this often. “Not really.”

“He’s a giant flirt. Player. Whatever you want to call it. Just watch out for him. He’s already got a reputation.” Iris laughs, shaking her head. “He had one within the first couple weeks starting here last year.”

“Seriously?” I don’t want to know anything about this.

All lies. Of course, I want to know.

“Yep.” Iris nods.

“Did he date every girl on campus or what?”

“The minute he showed up, all of the senior girls were on him. You know how it is when there’s new meat.” Iris rolls her eyes.

I sort of do. I experienced it myself when I first arrived at the school in Italy. Plenty of the boys were interested in me, but that wasn’t my intention when I was there. I was all about being a serious student, learning more and focusing on my classes. Oh, and making friends, which I did.

Get a boyfriend though? Not really. I had a few makeout experiences with boys when we would go out to the nightclubs, but nothing major. No boy made me feel all shivery inside—those kissing sessions were more exploratory and I was always worried I was doing something wrong. When I tried to explain it to Iris, she told me I was too much in my head, and I’m sure she’s right.

I’ve never had a kiss that made me forget all my thoughts. Where I could just lose myself and … feel.

“Rhett went out with a bunch of senior girls?” I try my best to keep my voice causal. Like I don’t really care, even though I totally do. I want all the details. Why, I’m not exactly sure. To torment myself?

He’s not my type, but he is pretty to look at.

“I don’t know if I would define what he did with all of those girls as ‘going out.’” Iris makes air quotes and she knows how much I hate that.

“What do you call it then?”

“Hooking up? Fucking around? Getting laid?” Iris starts to laugh, no doubt thanks to the horrified expression on my face. “Stop acting like a prude.”

“I’m not a prude.” My face is warm and I wish I wasn’t so prone to blushing. “I just can’t believe he would hook up with so many girls.”

“You know how rumors can be. The number is probably inflated. He’s really charming though. Like, he knows just what to say.” We slow our steps as we draw closer to the building. “You know we’ve never discussed in depth what happened when you were in Italy.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” I shrug. “You know pretty much everything that I did.”

“Did you have sex with anyone over there?”

“What?” I swivel my head left and right, making sure no one is nearby to hear her ask that question. “No. Of course not. You’d be the first person I told if I did.”

“I was kind of hoping you were keeping a dirty little secret.” Her disappointment is obvious. “What a bummer.”

“Did you—have sex when I was gone?” I’m whispering so low I can barely hear myself.

“Nope. But I might’ve messed around a bit.” Her knowing smile tells me she definitely messed around.

“With who?”

“I can’t tell.” She practically starts to run away from me. “See ya after school!”

I watch her go, letting my curiosity get the best of me about everything. Who did Iris hook up with and why wouldn’t she reveal his name? She’s being so secretive and it’s a little shocking, considering we normally tell each other everything.

Not that I’ve said much to her either since I’ve come home. I just haven’t gotten the chance yet, though I don’t have a lot to tell.

Ugh. I’m boring. Just like Alana said.

As I make my way across campus, I can’t stop thinking about Rhett Bennett’s playboy reputation and how many girls he might’ve possibly hooked up with. The way he flirted with me. Calling me Willy. Hated that. Telling me I’m fucking beautiful—didn’t hate that part one bit. But who does that? Is he just saying that sort of thing to get in my panties or does he actually believe it?

I rush into the building and head straight for the girls’ bathroom, relieved to find it empty when I enter. I stare at my reflection in the old, slightly foggy mirror, trying to see myself through Rhett’s eyes.

All I see is the same old me. I have a few stray tendrils flying around my head and I turn on the faucet, wetting my fingers before I smooth them back into submission. My lipstick is long gone, faded to a faint red that doesn’t look great, and once I’ve turned off the faucet, I’m rustling through the front pocket of my backpack. Finding what I’m looking for, I open the Chanel lipstick my mom gave me for my birthday and slick it on my lips, rubbing them together when I’m done.

There. Much better.

I’m okay. I know I’m not a hideous troll, and sometimes, when I put a lot of thought and attention into my outfit, I can look pretty. Fashionable even. When I was in Italy, I was photographed a few times, especially when I went to the Milan fashion shows with my mother. Some of the headlines declared me the next “it” girl.

Whatever that means.

It’s like I returned to Lancaster Prep and I became lazy again. We don’t need to put much effort into anything since we wear the same uniforms day in and day out. I don’t feel like I’m anything special here. I’m definitely not an “it” girl. Being stuck at a boarding school with everyone else wearing the same thing humbles you real quick.

By the time I leave the bathroom, the corridor is filled with students heading to their next class and I grab my schedule out of my backpack, checking for my room number. I push my way through the crowd, slipping into the classroom at the last second, right as the bell rings and the teacher strides in directly behind me, slamming the door.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I fall into the closest available desk, dropping my backpack at my feet. I bend over to unzip the top and pull a notebook out when I hear that same familiar voice whisper my name.

“Will.”

And when I look up, my gaze locks with Rhett’s. He’s sitting right next to me.

Great.