Shit, I may as well spend Thanksgiving at Eton too. I haven’t spoken to Dad since our blowout. Neither of us has tried to make amends, and I will not take back the fact I said Mom was a million times better than Step Monster, and I will not apologize for calling that woman a bitch after she accused me of being a pain in the ass who was good for nothing more than taking up a spare room in her penthouse apartment.
It will probably be a relief for everyone if I just stay here.
So that’s what I’m gonnado. Not because of Chris, but because I want to.
I won’t talk to the guy. He’ll be too busy scrubbing pots to hang out, anyway.
Riley will be up for staying. The only family he’s got is the nuns at St. Catherine’s Home for Children. He spent a while there after his parents were found dead. Not sure the guy will ever get over it. Doesn’t help that the case went unsolved and barely reported on. Riley’s wasted hours trying to find out the truth, but it’s hard to do when he’s stuck in a boarding school and every enforcement agency he ever tries to contact basically shrugs him off.
If he goes to St. Catherine’s for Thanksgiving, he’ll get sucked into a vortex of frustration. I’ll win him over with a line like that.
I snicker as I climb the stairs to our room.
Kade will be an easy sell too. He’s not exactly close to his parents. Not going home will probably be a relief for the entire family—he won’t have to spend the holiday pissing them off to get attention (old habits die hard) and they won’t have to spend the holiday trying to pretend that he doesn’t exist.
We’ll have the school to ourselves and no family dramas to deal with.
Best decision I’ve made all year.
I swallow, ignoring my true motivation, and double-time it up the stairs. The sooner I tell the guys my idea, the sooner they can make me believe I’m doing it to hang out with them and not keep an eye on Chris.
#15:
Never Betray Your Family
Christiana
Well, that was another shit day.
I rub my thumb over my dry fingers and grimace. Dish duty sucks. It’s only been a day and a half and I already hate it.
I can’t believe I have to stay in this stupid place. I seriously thought pushing a teacher and being an arrogant little shit would get me kicked out for sure. Stupid three strikes. I don’t want to learn to be a better person!
Mr. Adler read my letter, then placed it on his desk with a dismissive smile. We didn’t exchange words. He could tell I wasn’t that sorry, and I could tell he was still pissed.
Sniffing, I clomp up the stairs to my room. I have an hour before dinner. Ninety minutes before I’m scraping food off dinner plates and being yelled at by the kitchen staff.
Stupid Rybeck. Can’t believe he’s landed me in it for Thanksgiving too. I get that he’s trying to save my life and everything but right now, it’s not exactly a huge comfort.
I’ll be in this hellhole all by myself. Yes, a small reprieve from any Ivan bashings, but I’ll be a damn workhorse and miserable.
The halls are going to echo.
The silence will suffocate.
There’ll be nothing to distract me from obsessing over Robbie’s death.
I stop at my door and touch the door handle.
There’ll be no guys lounging in my room watching hockey games and passing me cold beers.
Okay, so they’ve only done that once, and I shouldn’t really want them to do it again, but it was actually kind of nice having them there. Listening to their banter. It made me want to be part of their little group.
A dangerous thought, but so enticing at the same time.
Shouldering my door open, I stop short when I see Riley hunched over his contraband laptop. He’s playing with his bottom lip, pinching it together, then rubbing his finger under his chin.
I roll my eyes but am secretly pleased for the company. Riley’s an intelligent guy. I don’t mind him so much. I thought I’d have to watch him, but he hasn’t asked too many questions. He sometimes looks at me a little too closely, like he’s trying to figure me out, but I’m pretty sure he does that with everyone.
He seems like a good guy and so far hasn’t sent off any warning alarms in my head.
Right now he’s too distracted watching the news to notice me anyway. The guy’s like a junior Einstein—he’s fascinated by facts and figures, reads science books for fun, likes in-depth discussions about history, hockey, anything technical. He’d rather watch the news than a movie.
And people here think I’m weird.
Dumping my bag, I mumble a hello, then go quiet as the news story catches my attention.
“Breaking news in the murder of eighteen-year-old Roberto Candella has come to light today when his parents finally spoke out about the crime. Roberto’s father, Giovanni Candella, thinks police have the wrong man and says authorities should be looking for the accused’s niece, who has reportedly been missing since the night of the murder.”
I go still, the air in my lungs liquefying as I gape at the screen.