4. Drown Him In Paint

4

Drown Him In Paint

Teal

My studio is my sanctuary. My happy place.

The one room where there’s no judgment or chains.

It’s just me and the paint spilling out.

I lock the door, put my earbuds in, and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I make an absolute mess of every surface until something makes sense.

The whole reason I wanted to go to Briar Academy instead of transferring out of state was the art program. It’s the small slice of serenity in a campus plagued by Sigma House influence. Some of the greatest artists of the past decade have walked these halls, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.

So long as I have my paintbrush and my canvas, the chaos quiets. Which is why I hate leaving the art building, especially after last night with Declan .

I roll my shoulders back as I walk through the gate that leads to the main courtyard, trying to keep my focus straight ahead, to the administrative building. From the corner of my eye, I see the bench I was sitting on last night, and I can almost feel Declan’s haunting presence behind me.

Watching me.

Lingering in the shadows where he must have last night as he took a photo of me watching the couple. I don’t know what this new game is that he’s playing, but it’s torture waiting for him to reveal his motives.

I know Declan well enough to be sure that what he did last night won’t be the worst of it. He hacked my therapy sessions and now has every dark secret I’ve ever confessed. All the blackmail he needs to prove I’m the crazy girl this town already thinks I am. He’s going to make my remaining years at Briar a living hell.

I’m not sure who I’m more upset with: my doctor for his lack of security or myself for believing I found a safe space to speak freely.

Dr. Parish isn’t my first therapist. But he is the first one I’ve trusted. He didn’t just take notes and watch the clock; he actually listened. He met with my father and worked with my entire family to better understand me.

He might still be calibrating my dose and figuring out the right medication, but at least he’s trying. And he’s getting closer to figuring me out than other doctors. The ones who threw random pills at me and told me to sleep it off when I was on edge, having hysterical fits in the middle of class from the sound of someone’s pencil scratching the paper.

Dr. Parish showed me how to survive the day without being forced to live in a constant zombie-like state.

Things were looking up until Declan showed up last night and peppered me with taunts.

I was getting better.

Someone bumps into me, and my eyes fly open.

I didn’t realize I’d stopped walking, and luckily, at this time of day, it’s so busy that no one seems to notice.

Wonderful .

Declan is now getting in my head without even needing to be around me. I’ve unintentionally opened a door for him, and he’ll use it to nudge his way in until I’m begging him to leave me alone.

I hate him.

Rolling my shoulders back, I readjust my earbuds and then reach into my pocket to change the song. The drums are too busy, so I switch to the acoustic album. My musical tastes don’t make any more sense than my art. From screamo to classical. From acrylic paint to pencils.

Sometimes, heavy metal makes me want to curl in a ball under the covers, and sometimes, it’s comforting.

As I walk across the courtyard, I spot Kole and Violet at one of the tables talking. She’s sitting on his lap, and he’s resting his hand on the books she’s holding. They’re always glued to each other the second they’re in each other’s presence, and I wonder what it’s like to have that— to want that .

I scratch my arm at the thought of being connected to myself, much less another person.

Kole’s face is blank most of the time, but when he looks at Violet, there’s a hint of a human existing somewhere beneath his surface. He watches her like she’s the only person on the planet, and he holds her like any amount of distance would bring the world to an end.

Patience, Mila, and I like to give her crap about how obsessed he is with her. But jokes aside, I sense there’s love behind it.

Or at least something as close to love as is possible for a member of Sigma Sin.

Kole says something that makes Violet laugh, and her whole face lights up. It’s interesting, considering I’ve never heard Kole say anything remotely amusing. She tips her head back with her smile, and he grips her throat to pull her in for a kiss.

Like everything between the two of them, the kiss is over the top and ridiculously possessive. And for the first time since they started dating, it makes me a little sad because even if it’s gross and a little too intimate for this public setting, they’re lost in it. They don’t care about anyone but each other.

It’s something I’ve never experienced.

Kole is obsessed with Violet in a way that’s the opposite of how Declan is obsessed with me. While Kole wants to see Violet smile, Declan considers my tears his most valued form of currency .

I shake my head, realizing I’m staring at my friend from a distance, and their quick kiss has evolved into a make-out session.

Turning away, I walk into the administrative office.

It’s nearly empty when I step inside, apart from one student scrolling through her phone in the lobby and the two receptionists. And when I approach the desk, both girls behind it ignore me.

“Tealene Donovan. I’m here about a summer internship.”

The receptionist doesn’t look at me as she begins typing into her computer. Her long, bubble gum, acrylic nails strike the keys as her fingers fly over them. She hits enter extra hard three times, finally glancing up at me.

“We’ll be right with you.”

I nod, walking to an empty chair on the opposite side of the lobby and sinking into it.

The school emailed me late last night that they made a decision on my summer internship application for the art program in Paris, and I’ve been crawling out of my skin, waiting to find out what they decided.

Only a few students are accepted into the internship every year. Getting in has been my singular goal since I started at Briar Academy, and since I didn’t make it in the summer after freshman year, all I can do is hope this is finally my chance.

It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to study under the famous Louis Petit.

I take a deep breath, hating how this room smells like lavender and bleach. The fabric of the chairs scratches my forearms, and the cackling of the receptionists gets under my skin.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out, expecting to see another threatening text from Declan. Instead, my mom’s name flashes on the screen.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Teal.” She sounds out of breath when I answer the phone.

“Everything okay?”

“Okay? Yes, of course. I was just setting up for the fundraiser tomorrow night, and I’ve gone up and down the stairs a hundred times today.”

I don’t bother asking what charity my parents are supporting this time. Between the two of them, they’re on the board of every good cause in Bristal. I’m convinced it’s how they pretend to care while indulging in their opulent lifestyle.

“That’s why I’m calling actually.” Mom pauses, and the second of hesitation tightens my chest. “Your father was hoping to see you at the event.”

“Why?” Dad typically prefers I skip them.

I’m not the kind of daughter worth showing off when I’m unpredictable in large crowds and struggle to hold my tongue around arrogant, rich assholes.

“I’m not supposed to say anything…” Mom trails off, humming.

“Mom, what is it?”

“Pretend you’ll act surprised.” Her tone is sweet as honey, which means she’s trying to coach my reaction.

Preparing me for something I won’t like .

“I’ll act surprised.” I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I need to know what’s going on.

Mom clears her throat. “Do you know Jase Ivans?”

“The new kid?” My eyebrows pinch.

He transferred to Briar Academy two months ago and immediately pledged Sigma House. Rumor is he’s one of Declan’s new favorite minions.

“Yes, his parents just purchased the Westwood Estate at the north end of town. His father and yours know each other from their fraternity days, and now they’ve reconnected.” She pauses, and I swear I hear my heart beating with every second that passes. “Your father would like to introduce you to Jase.”

“Introduce us—”

“I’ve heard he’s lovely.” Mom’s tone is overly sugary and fake.

“Why does he care about me meeting Jase?” I ask as the warning Declan issued last night rings clear in my head.

My father is up to something, and I don’t know what. But Declan does.

“It’s just a simple meet and greet.”

“Mom, tell me the truth.”

She sighs, and that’s when all hope slips away. “Your father has arranged for you to marry—”

“Tealene.” A woman with bright red hair walks into the lobby, stealing my attention.

“I have to go, Mom.”

“Okay, but please be there tomorrow. For me. ”

I stand, hanging up without answering. I can barely handle the sound of her voice right now, much less what she was about to say to me.

Mom warned me there was always a possibility Dad would choose my husband someday. It’s not unusual in families like ours, with generational wealth that needs to be protected. But part of me continued to hold out hope that she was overexaggerating.

I should have known she wasn’t. My parents didn’t marry for love, why should I?

But learning what my father has planned makes me wonder if this is what Declan was talking about. And if so, why?

Better yet, how could he help?

That last question eats me away as I follow the redhead down the hallway to her office. My anger toward my father brews inside me, but my curiosity is stronger. What does Declan think he could do to fix this?

“In here.” The redhead sweeps an arm out, guiding me.

Her nails are an inch long and painted in splashes of color like a canvas. Everything from her nail polish to her outfit clashes, and it makes her nearly impossible to look at.

Stepping into her office, my nostrils are overwhelmed with the stench of moldy dirt. Plants hang on every wall, draping down the furniture. Gnats fly around one of them, and it’s a reminder of why I prefer paint over people and other living things .

“Thanks for meeting with me.” She smiles. “I have exciting news. Louis Petit saw your most recent piece and specifically asked for you.”

“I got into the program?”

She drops into her desk chair and looks up at me, smiling. “You got in.”

I got in.

As much as I wanted this, I didn’t think I stood a chance. I’m used to disappointment when every doctor’s treatment comes with a warning label. Every bit of praise from my mother is tainted with criticism. Every minute spent with my father is a reminder I don’t meet his expectations.

But I got in .

“Are you okay?” The redhead’s eyebrows pinch as she focuses on my face. “You look a little pale.”

I shake my head. “Sorry, I’m just in shock.”

“It’s big news.” She laughs, digging through packets on her desk and handing me one.

The large blue folder has the Briar Academy logo embossed on the front, with Louis Petit Internship scribbled beneath it. I flip it open, but the name on the welcome letter isn’t mine.

Declan Pierce,

Congratulations.

“Declan?” I read his name again, thinking I must be imagining things.

“Oops.” The redhead snatches the folder from my hands and offers me a different one. “This one is yours. Mixed them up. ”

“Declan Pierce got in?” I look at her, barely holding my folder because I can’t get a grip on what she’s saying.

“He did. Are you two friends?” She smiles, excited at the prospect.

“Something like that,” I lie.

“That’s so exciting.”

It isn’t.

Declan doesn’t draw, or paint, or do anything remotely creative. He’s never stepped inside a studio in his life, so it doesn’t make sense that he got into this program.

And that’s when it hits me.

He’s a Pierce.

His family probably bought his spot just so he could spend the summer fucking French girls. Or worse, so he can spend it torturing me.

What is happening?

There’s always been a silent battle raging between us, but all of a sudden, he’s everywhere.

Noise fades out. The world turns to a swirl of color. A mirage of green and blue as it all swims in and out of focus.

My mouth dries as my heart races.

“Well, congratulations,” the redhead says, not noticing the panic swelling up inside me. “The envelope has your itinerary and travel cost. But it will be emailed to you as well. We recommend you read it over as soon as possible and note your acceptance because flights will be booked next week. Only two months until Paris.”

She balls her hands into fists and shakes them like she’s cheering for me, and I wish I shared her enthusiasm .

“Can’t wait.” I clutch the folder to my chest.

“I have an appointment to get to, but how exciting you’ll have a friend with you for the summer. I hope you have fun.”

Fun . Not the word I would use.

“Mm-hmm.” I grit my teeth, turning to leave.

The hallway is tighter this time as I walk through it. The walls feel like they’re closing in. I can barely breathe as I make my way through the lobby, stepping out into the courtyard and fighting for a breath.

Declan Pierce, Congratulations.

He’s up to something, and there’s no more avoiding it. As much as I’d like to ignore him until he loses interest, that’s not going to happen anytime soon if we’re attending the same summer program.

That is unless I strangle him or stab him to death with a paintbrush first.

Better yet, maybe I’ll drown him in paint.

Whatever game he thinks he’s playing, he won’t win. He might know my secrets, but I also know a few of his. This isn’t over.

Far from it.