“You don’t look that bad,” I reassure her, wishing she could reassure me too.
But that would mean I’d have to tell her everything that happened between Crew and me last night, and that’s the last thing I want to do. Especially with everything else that happened on top of it.
“I could look better.” She keeps her gaze on her reflection, sighing. “I guess this will have to do. I’m going to go talk to him.”
“You think he’s already here?”
“He always gets here early. If he’s not in his classroom yet, I’ll go grab a coffee in the dining hall first,” she says as she starts for the door.
I don’t bother telling her to stay or try to convince her she shouldn’t talk to him. Make him come to her. She wouldn’t listen to me anyway. She’s going to do what she wants.
“Okay. Good luck.” My voice is weak, my thoughts turbulent, but she doesn’t even notice.
“Bye, Wren. See ya in class. Wish me luck!” She shuts the door before I can say anything else.
I flop backward on the bed, overwhelmed. I don’t even know what to think. Will Natalie and Crew get in trouble? Suspended? Oh God…expelled?
They wouldn’t expel a Lancaster, would they? I know he’s claimed they have zero tolerance with drugs, and even he could get kicked out, but what about a situation like this?
What if he’s gone already and I never get a chance to talk to him again? What then? I don’t even have his phone number, which is so stupid. I suppose I could contact him via social media but…
Okay, I’m getting way ahead of myself here. I need to get ready for school and leave a little early to see if he’s waiting out front for me like he usually does. If he’s not there…
I don’t know what I’ll do.
I get ready in a hurry, pulling on a thick pair of white wool tights and the bralette I wore last night, then I don my uniform. I slip a navy sweater over my white shirt, forgetting the jacket, then my skirt, rolling it up a little to show off more leg.
Tight-covered leg but who cares? I’m trying to catch someone’s attention.
Hopefully he’ll be there. Waiting for me by the entrance like he normally does. Before, when he used to level that cold stare on me, I’d run by him, just to get away.
Now I walk slowly, savoring that one-sided smile that appears on his face when he first spots me. He makes me feel beautiful.
What in the world was he doing with Natalie last night?
Once I’m finally out of the dorm hall, I make my way toward the main building, my steps careful thanks to the slushy mess the sidewalks are. The sun is out again, a little warmer this morning, and even though it’s still cold, it’s causing the snow to melt.
There are people all around me, most of them with their heads bent as they walk, whispering to each other. I hear Natalie’s name mentioned time and again, along with Crew’s.
It’s all anyone can talk about. The gossip is going to be rampant.
If they all think Crew and Natalie are together, I’m going to feel like a fool. Even if it’s not true.
Holding my head high, I pick up my pace, marching toward the building when I spot Ezra and Malcolm standing in Crew’s usual spot, frowns on their faces as they watch everyone walk by them.
There’s no Crew in sight, and I can’t fight the disappointment sinking in my stomach like a stone.
“Wren.”
Malcolm calls my name in that crisp British accent of his and I go to him, nerves making my entire body shake.
“Yes?” I ask, shoving my gloved hands into my coat pockets.
“You heard what happened to our boy?”
I like how he calls Crew our boy. He must be aware of what’s going on between us, and any other time, that would be embarrassing. Not right now, though.
Now, all I want is information about Crew. Where he is. If he’s all right. What in the world he was doing with Natalie.
“I know he was caught with Natalie last night,” I admit, taking a step closer, so I can speak to him more privately. “Where is he?”
“He’s got a meeting with Matthews,” Malcolm answers, referring to the headmaster of the school. “Right at eight o’clock. He wanted me to tell you.”
“Oh.” Hope rises within me, but I tamp it down. I can’t read into this too much. “Thank you for letting me know.”
Malcolm sends a quick look in Ezra’s direction before he returns his attention to me. He holds out a folded yellow Post-It Note between his fingers. “This is his phone number. Don’t know what the two of you are doing if you’re not texting or Snapchatting with each other on the phone like normal fucking teenagers, but he wanted you to have it.”
“Thank you.” I clutch the piece of paper in my hand, the edges biting into my palm. “Is he going to be all right?”
“Don’t know,” Ezra says, earning a dirty look from Malcolm for his oh-so-reassuring contribution. “Might get suspended. Fucker deserves it.”
“He’s a Lancaster,” Malcolm adds, ignoring Ezra. “He’ll be fine.”
I see the hostility filling Ezra’s gaze and I remember how he was always flirting with Natalie. The almost desperate edge to it, and how she ignored him.
How she was always staring at Crew instead.
“Thank you again,” I tell Malcolm because I’m polite to the point of being annoying and I can’t help myself. He nods. Ezra sneers.
I leave them where they stand, entering the building and immediately leaning against the wall, opening the Post-It Note to study Crew’s phone number.
He also wrote something else.
Text me when you can, Birdy. I need to talk to you.
My heart flutters in my chest and I grab my phone, punching in the number, and immediately send him a text.
Me: It’s Wren. Text me back when you can talk.
I wait for a few minutes, leaning against the wall, watching everyone walk past me, headed to class. They’re all talking among themselves, whispering and gossiping. Laughing and reveling in the downfall of Natalie and Crew.
It makes me sad. Worse, it makes me angry, because they don’t know what actually happened. They’re all assuming Crew and Natalie were together last night, and I know that’s not the case.
He wouldn’t just drop me off and pick up Natalie, would he?
No. No way.
Not after everything we just shared.
I walk into English class in a daze, my head bent, not paying attention to what’s happening. I fall into my desk chair, hating that the desk behind me is empty, that Crew is nowhere to be found. I glance around the room, my gaze snagging on Figueroa’s. He’s already watching me, and I realize as I look around the classroom, once again, that Maggie isn’t here.
Without thought, I rise to my feet and approach his desk, noting the pleasant smile on his face, the way his eyes flicker with interest when they land on me.
I wish I had the courage to slap his face and call him out for his bad behavior. He’s getting careless.
“Wren. How can I help you this morning?” His tone is light, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
I was with Maggie not even an hour ago. Upset, pregnant-with-his-baby Maggie, who left my room to come talk to him, and here he sits, not traumatized in the least, while she’s not even here.
What happened with their conversation? Did he blow her off?
“Where’s Maggie?” I ask him, my tone flat. Unfriendly.
Totally unlike me.
He frowns, sensing my hostility. “I don’t know. She hasn’t shown up to class yet. The bell hasn’t rung—”
It does exactly that, silencing our conversation.
“She has three more minutes,” he says once the bell shuts off. “She should be here any second.”
“But I know she came straight here from the dorm to speak with you,” I say, wanting him to understand that I know everything.
Something flickers in his expression but he smooths it out. Like a blank canvas. “No, she didn’t.”
“She told me she was going to.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“She was upset because you didn’t meet with her last night.”
The irritation is full-blown blazing in his dark eyes now. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”