“What are you doing back here?” I ask as jokingly as possible, avoiding direct eye contact.
“Preparing to learn calculus, of course.”
The twist to his mouth is cunning, and the spark in his eyes is practically pleading with me to play along and give him an opening to next say whatever it is he’s obviously dying to.
But our game is a private one, and I refuse to continue it in front of his entourage—the likes of which will come and sit back here as soon as they figure out he’s staying put.
“Kingston…” I glance around apprehensively, just waiting for the girls to pounce. “You promised. I don’t want—”
“Trust me. We won’t be disturbed.”
I roll my eyes and laugh shrewdly. “Yeah, right. I’m surprised they’re not already tripping over themselves to get back here.”
“I assure you, it won’t happen.”
“How can you possibly assure me of that?”
“I have my ways,” he replies with a wink. “Now please, do have a seat. There are pressing matters we need to discuss.”
Chapter 15
The way Kingston fidgets in his chair, huffing repeatedly while his face twists from an aggravated scowl to straight-up crimson in irritation, is positively entertaining. His plan to “discuss matters” with me is ruined by our professor, and the format of today’s lesson: a nonstop, completely interactive question-and-answer seminar. He doesn’t turn his back to the class once, robbing Kingston of any chance to talk to me about “matters.”
And when we’re dismissed, I rush to the door just as fast as the girls rush to him.
“Echo, wait up!” Savannah hollers, chasing me across the parking lot. “I need a ride!”
I slow down, waiting for her to catch up. I’ve gotten so used to her rarely needing a ride home with me anymore it didn’t even cross my mind.
“Sure. And hey, since you’re coming with me anyway, want to work on our routine?”
“I wish I could—really, I do,” she says as we reach my truck. “But if I don’t study tonight, I’ll fail Marshall’s bio test tomorrow, and I already have a D in there. Raincheck?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, climbing inside the cab. “Raincheck.”
I’m not sure if it’s the trying to keep track of her lies or my schedule that’s tripping her up, but I have Mr. Marshall for Biology as well…and there’s no test tomorrow.
I should call her out on it, but I settle for silently brooding as I drive her home. Why would she lie about that? Is she afraid to tell me she just doesn’t want to do the routine, or is she hiding something bigger?
“Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She climbs out, waving over her shoulder as she hurries toward her house.
I continue to stew the entire way home, and by the time I get there, I’ve worked myself into a frenzy of dark thoughts. My mother’s ominous comments about Savannah swirl in my head, and for a moment, I debate calling Sebastian. But what would I say? I have no proof of anything, just a bad inkling in my gut. And I can’t upset him over what might be nothing.
So I decide to clear my head the best way I know how. I run to my room, change quickly, and head for my tree. I climb so high up my silks that no troubles or worries can reach me, then swing, flip, and contort my body until I haven’t a care in the world.
After an hour or so, I feel more at ease, so I descend slowly and head to the house.
My mother greets me from the kitchen. “There you are! You just missed a call from Sebastian. Here, drink.” She hands me a glass of ice water. “Been working on the new routine?”
I nod with a smile as I quench the dryness in my throat. “How’s Seb doing?”
“He seems to love it, but says he misses us. I’m happy he’s getting this experience, though. Everyone should have a chance to see even a small glimpse of this big world.”
“Yeah,” I respond, wondering if I’ll ever get the same opportunity.
When I set down my glass, I change the subject and ask, “Where’s Dad?”
My mom grins in amused suspicion. “At the pavilion, fixing some wiring. Oh, and Sammy and Kingston are helping him.” Her mouth twitches. “Just in case that was your next question.”
“It wasn’t.” I divert my gaze to the opposite wall, lying to it rather than my mother’s face. “But that’s cool. Okay, I’ll be down after I wash up.”
I hop in the shower, and because I only expect them in the mornings, I almost miss the note on the glass door, rising from the steam.
Tonight, we talk.
I can’t decide if it’s a threat or a simple statement of fact, but either way, it sends a shiver of anticipation up my spine.
It also makes for the longest dinner I’ve ever endured. Have my father and Sammy always talked this much? And did my mother use every dish in the kitchen? It’s never taken this long to clean up.
When I am finally done and have excused myself to go finish my homework, my dad throws in another, totally out-of-character roadblock, and asks Kingston to join him in watching a game on TV. Kingston accepts, of course. But he sends me a discreet glance, his own impatience bristling in his eyes.
My reaction is heady, and I climb the stairs on wobbly legs.