BADEN STOOD AND THEN CROSSED the hall. The midday sun was filtering in through the windows, making the space warm and covering everything with a slight hint of yellow. Even his dark skin looked brighter somehow.
“Stalking me?” I asked, trying to be playful.
The hard set of his eyes told me he wasn’t in the mood. “I wasn’t sure how else to get ahold of you. You’re so hard to find.”
I crossed my arms. “Clearly you’re upset. Why don’t you tell me what it’s all about so we can move on?”
He made a face, displeased with my offer. “I want to leave.”
I felt like I’d run full speed into a brick wall. “Excuse me?”
“Last night was embarrassing. I asked you out and you shot me down.”
I held up a hand. “I never actually said no. You didn’t let me get that far.”
“Were you going to say yes?” He sounded skeptical.
I raised my arms and let them drop. “I’ll never know, because you got an attitude and walked away.”
“Are you seriously going to lecture me on having a bad attitude?”
I gasped. How dare he?
I got closer to him, though even at my full height I was dwarfed by his frame. “You know I could have you punished for speaking to me that way, right?”
“So now you’re going to bully me? First you reject me, then you use me for a little snippet of entertainment on the Report, and now I’ve had to spend my entire morning tracking you down after you told me you would meet with me during breakfast.”
“You’re one person out of twenty! I have work to do! How self-centered can you possibly be?”
His eyes widened, and he pointed at his chest. “Me? Self-centered?”
I tried to tuck my heart away, refusing to let him hurt me. “You know, you were one of my favorites. I was going to keep you around for a long time. My family liked you, and I admired your talent.”
“I don’t need your family’s stamp of approval. You were nice to me for all of an hour, then you disappear and it’s like nothing happened at all. I have the freedom to leave, and I’m ready to go.”
“Then go!”
I started walking away. I didn’t have to endure that.
He yelled down the hall, taking one last stab at me. “My friends all told me I was crazy to put my name in! They were so right!”
I kept going.
“You’re pushy! You’re selfish! What was I thinking?”
I turned a corner, even though it didn’t lead to where I was going. I could find my way eventually. I held it in, keeping the brave face I’d always been taught to have. No one could know how much that hurt.
After a trip that took twice as long as it should have, I finally made it to the third floor. I started crying the second I hit the landing, unable to stay composed any longer. Baden’s words repeated themselves in my head, and I clutched my stomach, feeling them like literal blows.
Before any of the boys had shown up, I’d had a list of ideas for how to get rid of them. I’d planned on making them so angry they’d say plenty of the things Baden just had . . . but I’d done nothing to provoke him. And he said them anyway. What was so wrong with me that I got rejected simply for being myself?
And his last words did exactly what he wanted them to. It looked like I’d had millions of choices when I drew the names nearly a month ago. How many men hadn’t entered because they already objected to me on some level?
Did people think I was pushy? Selfish? Which were the public enjoying more: the sweet moments between me and the boys or the moments when I looked like a failure?
I straightened up to head to my room, only to see that Erik was waiting outside my door for me and had undoubtedly just watched my crying fit.
I swiped at my face, trying to clean it up, but there was no hiding the puffy eyes or red cheeks. Erik seeing me like this was almost as bad as the original issue, but the only way to make it seem as if it was nothing was to act as if it was nothing.
I walked over to Erik, achingly aware of the sadness in his eyes, and he bowed as I approached.
“I feel like maybe I’ve come at a bad time,” he said, the tiniest hint of sarcasm in his voice.
I smiled. “Ever so slightly,” I answered, acknowledging my hurt against my better judgment. “Still, I’m happy to help you if I can.”
Erik pressed his lips together, unsure if he should go on. “I wanted to talk to you about Henri. He didn’t send me!” he insisted, holding up a hand. “I think he’d come to you himself if he could speak on his own. But he’s embarrassed.” Erik swallowed. “He, uh . . . he told me about the kiss.”
I nodded. “I figured.”
“He’s afraid he’s crossed a line. He said something about holding on to you and that he probably should have let go, but then he didn’t and—”