Hartley’s face is beet red. Pash, meanwhile, gapes in the direction where Felicity and her posse headed off. “What is wrong with her?” he marvels.
I let out a ragged breath. “No clue.”
“She probably needs a good—”
I sense more than see Hartley about to explode and so I slap a hand over Pash’s mouth before he gets us both in trouble.
“Don’t say it,” I warn.
“What?” he mumbles and shoves me off. “I was going to say she needs a good kick in the ass.”
I give him a sure you did look before straightening my jacket. He responds by pulling his phone from his pocket, and starts swiping.
“You humiliated her,” Hartley says finally. “Or we did. She said she was dating you and you kept denying it. Then you told her she could break up with you but instead you went to her house, her party, and embarrassed her in front of all her friends.”
“And I guess this was the icing on the cake,” Pash remarks.
We look over at him for clarification. He holds up his phone.
Dammit. The picture that girl took at the pier last night stares back at me. She used the Astor hashtag, and although she posted the picture just this morning, there are already tons of likes. More than a thousand people have enjoyed the sight of Hartley and me staring moodily into each other’s eyes with the Ferris wheel in the background.
Hartley groans. “Oh God, it’s the top post on the feed. If that’s not rubbing salt in Felicity’s wound, I don’t know what is. I’d want revenge, too.”
“It’s a nice shot,” Pash comments.
“A nice shot?” I say incredulously.
“Yeah. Nice shot. Whoever took it used high speed and caught the lights. It looks professional.” He scowls at me. “So it’s the top post because it’s a good photo, not because you two are in it. Sorry to burst your giant ego.”
I return his glare. “She’s targeting Hartley because of me. That’s not my giant ego talking. That’s the truth.”
“Can you two stop fighting?” Hartley interrupts. “Does it really matter why the picture is popular?”
“She’s right,” Pash says. “The question is, how do we get Felicity to calm the eff down?”
I arch an eyebrow. “We?”
“Well, sure. I don’t want to see Hart here”— he knocks her lightly on the shoulder—“take the fall for something she didn’t do. So let’s appease Felicity.”
Hartley musters up a smile. “Thanks.”
“Why are we appeasing her?” I ask.
“Because you can’t beat her up.”
“There are other things.”
“Like what?” Hartley says suspiciously.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out because I don’t have a clue what to do. The last time a mean girl tried to take my family down, violence was the answer.
“Remember when Jordan Carrington taped that girl to the side of the school?” I finally say. “Ella beat her up.”
Pash and Hartley look at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“I think you’ve been hit in the head too many times,” Hartley says. She nudges Pash. “You don’t have to get involved. This is messy. I don’t even want to be involved.”
He shrugs. “It’s our senior year. I got nothing better to do. Besides, who’s to say I won’t be next? I’m Easton’s second favorite person at Astor.”
This draws a glimmer of a smile from Hartley. “Yeah? Who’s first?”
“You are, of course. Then there’s Ella. But me and her are tied. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep that between us, though, because she’s got a mean right.” He playfully rubs a hand down his arm.
“Having been punched by Ella more than once, I can say he’s not wrong,” I volunteer, appreciating the lightheartedness that Pash is trying to inject.
As some of the stress lines in Hartley’s face smooth away, I decide that Pash is going in the right direction. We need more jokes. More laughter. Life’s been a downer lately. What happened to having fun?
“Let’s throw a party,” I announce.
Hartley’s jaw drops. “A what?”
“A party. You know, an ‘I don’t have to go to school anymore’ party.”
“I’m in.” Pash holds up his hand, and we exchange a high-five.
Hartley, however, starts walking away.
“Wait up,” I call, abandoning Pash to run after her. He comes, too. “You don’t like the idea of a party?”
“I have to work.” Her voice is flat and her expression is shuttered.
“We can party after you’re done with work.”
She stops abruptly. “A party? Really, Easton? I just got suspended. That’s nothing to celebrate.”
Beside me, Pash sobers up. “Are your parents going to kill you? Because mine would kill me,” he admits.
Hartley turns ghost white.
Damn.
“I guess a party is a bad idea,” I mumble, feeling stupid as hell.
I didn’t consider the ramifications of her suspension, and I don’t think she fully did either until Pash brought up family. First thing the headmaster is going to do is call her parents. And since she’s currently not allowed to see anyone in her family for some mysterious reason, this isn’t going to go over well for her.
“Want me to talk to your folks?” I offer. “I can explain—”
“No.” If possible, she grows paler. “Don’t say a word to them. Not one word.” She grabs my blazer, digging her fingers into my arm. “Please.”
“Okay. I won’t,” I assure her.
She drops my arm. “I’ve got to go.”
Before I can blink, she’s hurrying away. When I start to follow, Pash holds me back.
“Give her some time alone with her family, man.”
“She doesn’t—” I stop myself before I spill shit I’m not supposed to talk about. But watching Hartley run away isn’t a good idea, either. “I can’t just stand around doing nothing, dude. I need to do something.”
“Fine. Then go home,” he advises. “Talk to Ella. Who knows, maybe she’s got an idea about how to solve this.”
* * *
As badly as I want to go after Hartley, I decide to take Pash’s advice. When I get home, I hunt my stepsister down and find her in her room, studying.
“Got a minute?” I ask, knocking on her open door.
Ella glances up from her book. “Yeah, come in. What’s up?”
I give it to her straight. “Felicity framed Hartley for cheating in Calc. Hartley got suspended.”
“Oh my God,” Ella gasps. “Why would Felicity do that to Hartley?”
“To get back at me. I’m the one she’s actually pissed at.”
“Of course she’s pissed. You were an ass to her at the party. But why go after Hartley and not one of your closer friends, like me or Val or Pash?”
“I guess you haven’t checked your Insta or Snap today.”
“No. I was with Callum and the lawyers all day.” Ella sets down her book and snatches her phone off the thick duvet.
I drop down on the bed and lean back against the padded headboard. I know the moment she finds the picture because she gasps again.
“Are you guys kissing in this pic?” she exclaims.
“Almost. We kissed on the Ferris wheel, though.”
Ella looks startled. “What happened to the rules? Hartley said you weren’t allowed to hit on her.”