“Wren, hey.”
I turn to find Larsen Von Weller standing in front of me, a smile curling his lips.
He’s a senior like me. Quiet. Smart. Athletic but not a complete jerk like some of the jocks that go to this stupid school. Attractive with brown hair and brown eyes. A lean yet muscular build.
“Hi,” I say with a faint smile, wondering why he’s talking to me.
We were closer our freshman and sophomore years, when we had more classes together, and saw each other throughout the day. We sort of went on separate paths junior year because of our class choices, and now we never really speak.
“How are you?” he asks.
“I’m good.” I nod, glancing around the hall, watching people walk past us, their gazes curious when they see who I’m talking to. “How are you?”
“I can’t complain.” His smile is easy. “I heard a rumor.”
“Oh?” God, what does he know?
“Yeah. That you’re going home this weekend.” He smiles.
I frown. “Where did you hear that?”
His expression turns sheepish and he shoves his hands in his front pockets. “My mom mentioned it to me because I’m going home too. My parents invited yours over for dinner Saturday night, and your mom mentioned to mine that you would be coming.”
“Oh. Yes, I guess I am.” I didn’t realize his parents were friends with mine, but my father never turns down a friendship. He views almost everyone in his life as potential business since he’s in real estate. Someone is always looking to buy or sell something in his eyes.
“It’ll be good to catch up, don’t you think?” he asks, keeping pace with me, as I start walking.
“Definitely.” I offer him a quick smile, stopping near my classroom door. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Something to look forward to.” He flashes me a brilliant smile. “See you tomorrow, Wren.”
Larsen walks away quickly, getting swallowed up in the crowd, and I watch him go, leaning against the wall to stay out of the way of the people rushing to their last class.
“What the hell was that about?”
I turn to find Crew standing there, a glower on his face, staring in the direction Larsen just left.
“What exactly are you referring to?”
“Larsen. Why is he sniffing around you?”
I wrinkle my nose, disgusted by his chosen terminology. “It’s really none of your business.”
I stride into the classroom with Crew on my heels. “It’s my business when I know the guy is a fucking perv.”
“You two must be great friends then.” I smirk at him from over my shoulder, settling into the chair right next to his.
We’ve been merely coexisting the last couple of days, but in this moment, I’m fired up. Ready to give him a piece of my mind.
“I’m not friends with that asshole. He’s a smug prick,” Crew spits out as he sits down.
“Sounds familiar.” I drop my backpack on the floor beside me, turning to glare at him. “Stay out of it, Crew. It doesn’t concern you.”
“If he messes with your mental state, it’ll definitely concern me. We have a project to work on.”
“My mental state is precarious only because of you.” It’s pure habit when I pull out my notebook and pencil. Crew isn’t going to talk to me or give me anything. He never does. I could ask him an endless list of questions and he’d still remain mum. It’s so frustrating.
He’s frustrating. Claiming that Larsen is a pervert when they aren’t even friends. How would he know?
“He’ll make it worse,” he retorts.
“How?” I’m genuinely curious. “What could he do to me that would be so awful?”
“God, you really are that innocent, aren’t you?”
I flinch at his words. I hate that he makes me feel terrible for being a nice person. I can’t help it if I’m not completely corrupted like he is. “I’d rather be innocent than hard and jaded like you.”
Crew ignores my insult. “You really want to know what Larsen is up to?”
“Please!”
“He puts on this—sweet act for the girls. Like he wouldn’t harm a fly. Very aw shucks of him, you know? He works his wholesome act on an unsuspecting girl, and the next thing she knows, she finds herself on her knees with his dick in her mouth while he secretly records the entire transaction,” Crew explains.
I physically recoil at his words. That sounds absolutely awful. And Crew makes it sound so clinical with his use of the word ‘transaction.’
Is that all sex is to him? A transaction? An exchange of bodily fluids?
Gross.
“He records it?” I ask, my voice hushed. I don’t want anyone else to hear me say that. Too many people pay attention to me and Crew when we talk already, and I have no clue why.
Crew nods, his expression grim. “Then he sells it to his friends.”
A gasp leaves me. “What? Why?”
“For beat-off material? Come on, Birdy. You don’t think every guy in this place would love to see you on your knees for someone?” The look he gives me makes me think he might want to see me in such a—vulnerable position as well. “If Larsen was able to capture that, he’d be the hero of Lancaster Prep.”
“That is so—disgusting.” I stare down at my desk. Crew’s words are on repeat in my brain. I don’t know if I believe him. He thinks the worst of everyone. I’ve never heard of Larsen doing anything like that before. While I make sure I’m not involved in any scandalous gossip, I do occasionally hear tidbits, and that is one story I’ve never come across.
Ever.
“Watch out for him,” Crew says, his tone ominous. “I’ve warned you.”
Skov comes into class, just before the bell rings, launching straight into taking attendance. I sit there lost in thought, hating how Crew ruined my upcoming Saturday night dinner with a few choice words.
He has a way of doing that. Ruining my life.
Dramatic but true.
When Skov releases us to continue working on our project with our partners, I watch as Crew scoots his desk and chair closer to mine, which surprises me. Why is he coming closer?
I don’t want him to. I’d rather he keeps his distance. Having him so close makes me uncomfortable—and not in a bad way. Which isn’t good.
Not at all.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” I start.
“And?”
“I don’t believe it.”
An exasperated sigh leaves him. “Why am I not surprised.”
“He doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.”
“Isn’t that how it always starts? ‘Oh, he was the nicest guy. I can’t believe he’s a serial killer.’” The look Crew sends me almost makes me laugh. “Get real, Birdy.”
“I just think I would’ve heard about this from other girls. Ones who’ve been—recorded by him, you know?” I make a disgusted face at the thought of it happening—and what I would do if it actually happened to me.
Talk about humiliating. I’d never recover from it.
“You really think any of them actually talk about it? They’d rather forget the moment ever existed. And if they were to say something to you, you’d probably give them a nice little speech about their bad choices,” Crew says.
My heart aches, only because what he says is, unfortunately, true.
I’ve given plenty of lectures in my time to girls who’ve made bad decisions. No wonder people think I’m judgmental.
“I probably should stop doing that,” I admit, my voice soft.
Crew leans in closer, his shoulder brushing mine, making me tingle. “Stop doing what?”
“Being so judgmental all the time.” I lift my gaze to his. “You were right. So was everyone else who told me that.”
“Aw, little birdy is learning something from the project.” He reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m proud of you.”
My skin warms from his touch and I try to push past the foreign feeling. He shouldn’t say words like that either.
I might end up liking them too much.
“Have you learned anything about yourself yet?” I ask hopefully, trying to ignore the swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach from him touching me.
“I learned that you think I’m an asshole.”
I frown. “I never said that.”
“You don’t have to. I can just tell.”