This feels like it’s about more than just the girls in the library.

“I don’t give a shit about those girls. I can read your face, Charisma. If you’ve got something to say, just let it out.” I lean against her car door and cross my legs.

Her mouth tightens. “Fine. You want to know what’s been eating at me since I saw you? Why did you dump me? I thought we…” Her words trail off, her fists at her sides.

A long sigh comes from my chest, and I grimace and look off across the lot, avoiding her eyes. “You were going to cut me loose eventually.”

“Blaze, that’s…not true. I wanted…” She stops. In my peripheral, I watch as she swallows and blinks. “You said I wasn’t your type, goddamn it. You hurt me.”

I close my eyes. I did say that. I rake my hands through my hair and pace around the parking lot. I stop and face her. She is my type, scary smart and hot as hell.

And I’m not worthy of her.

Good girls like her don’t stick around with a guy like me. Sure, I have a talent for football and people tell me I’m handsome, but underneath…

Why would she want me?

“Charm, I’m so sorry I said that. It came out wrong. I bungled it up, and you didn’t deserve that. You are my type, and I think deep down you really know that.” I pause. “I’m not yours.”

“How do you know my type?” she says, her face hard.

“I just do. I’ve seen you, Charm—since freshman year. I know you like them nice and quiet and smart. Chess guys, whatever. That’s not me.”

She shakes her head, as if realigning everything in her mind. “Let me get this straight: what you really meant was that you weren’t my type?” Her words are incredulous, still tinged with hurt.

I nod.

“And that was all it took for you to break it off?” She huffs out a laugh, but there’s no humor there. “We’d just had sex the night before.”

I swallow and start pacing again. “I didn’t intend to do it like that, okay?”

“Then why did you?”

Why? WHY? Because after she left my dorm room, I knew if I didn’t do it at the party, then I never would.

“I…I was worked up from the game, and it just happened. Plus, you…you looked like you’d be okay without me. You had your sorority and friends, and I realized I needed to focus on football. I didn’t want things to get serious between us, and it felt like…like it was going there if I didn’t put a stop to it.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to lay it all out, to try to explain that she had the potential to hurt me, but my mouth won’t say the words.

She dips her head, but before she does, I think I see the shimmer of tears in her eyes, and it makes me freeze. I take a step back. Nah, I can’t go there. I can’t. If she cries, I’m gonna lose it. I’m gonna hold her in my arms and I’m going to try to kiss her and she’ll tell me to stop—

The words are wrenched from her, and she clings to her backpack as if it’s a lifeline. “I didn’t know you were a coward, Blaze.”

My throat is suddenly tight. “Yeah, well, now you do.”

She takes a deep breath and seems to gather herself. “We should have had this conversation months ago, but you plastered Dani to your side. For what? To keep me away from you? Why?”

Unease prickles over me. She’s got me there. She does. I used Dani as a shield, because I knew if I got within one foot of Charisma—

“Tell me how you feel, Charisma. Wasn’t I just a good fuck? Weren’t you just using me?” This feels crucial to me, and I tuck my hands in my pockets to hide my nervousness.

Her head shakes. “Don’t turn this around. It doesn’t matter how I felt. We’re over anyway…right?” She stares at me, waiting for a response, and my chest feels tight.

“Right.” I rub a hand through my hair and hold her gaze. “Charm. I am sorry for how it ended.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” She turns her back to me, gets in her car, and cranks it.

I don’t try to stop her. I’ve pushed myself as far as I can when it comes to talking about this.

She pulls out, and I stand there until she’s gone, her taillights glowing in the dark.

13

“I hope we don’t get caught,” Margo mutters as we slip like ninjas through the stately front door of the Theta mansion on sorority row. It’s bigger than our house, rumored to have at least twenty bedrooms upstairs for upperclassmen. We’ve crashed parties before, and the opulence and over-the-top decor is enough to make me grit my teeth. We aren’t the “rich party girls” the Thetas are, and we’ve accepted it, but Margo is determined to get the latest scoop on our competition. I don’t know why since it’s our last semester, but that’s just her. No one gets the best of her. She’s on a mission, and she’s dragged me and Penelope with her.

Might as well.

It’s the Friday after a long week of classes, and my plan was to watch TV, but after Penelope gave me a rousing pep talk and reminded me we’d be incognito and then proceeded to say, “You never know who you might see,”…well, I jumped at the chance.

Margo adjusts her feathered black masquerade mask with red jewels on the side. Penelope and I do the same. We. Are. Ready.

“If anyone asks, we’re three freshmen, green as a blade of fresh spring grass. Got it?” I say.

Nods come.

“Right on,” Penelope says. “This party will blow.”

We’re dressed in all black, the theme of this fabulous shindig. Margo’s in jeans and an expensive-looking cardigan set—which I told her is a dead giveaway, but she ignored me. Penelope’s in a short leather skirt and a cropped sweater. Her red hair is swirled up in a tight bun, her mask loaded with feathers. She keeps blowing them out of her mouth.

I’m in three-inch strappy black heels, primo cropped leggings—the kind that suck everything up—and a snug gold vest with intricate black embroidery and cloth-covered buttons. With a deep plunging neckline that displays my cleavage, it’s a snazzy little vintage piece that caught my eye at a consignment store in New York. It breaks the “black only” rule a little, but I couldn’t resist it.

“Thanks for helping me spy on their party. Ugh. Why didn’t we think of a cool party for back to school?” Margo complains.

“Madame President, think of our high GPAs. Remember our kickass homecoming gig where everyone in the world showed up, even townies! This party will never top any of ours!” I say.

We do a fist bump. We had a few glasses of pre-party wine back at the house.

I adjust my own mask, which is made of soft velvet and has sparkling faux diamonds in the corners. My hair is slicked back in a high ponytail, the pink strands brushed with temporary brown hair paint Penelope swore would wash out later.

I could be any girl tonight.

There’s a long line of people in the foyer as we ease closer, the Theta standing there checking IDs and handing out wristbands for alcohol.

“Uh-oh,” I say. “ID check.”

“Dammit, how are we going to get past her?” Margo mumbles.

I’m in the middle of them and throw an arm around each of their shoulders. With me in heels and them in flats, I’m almost as tall as they are. “I’m sick and you’re taking me to the bathroom. Remember freshman year and that dance club we wanted to get into—do that, got it? Go with it!”

My head falls down to my chest and I force out a retching sound. It’s loud and gross. I have my brothers to thank for that—I’ve heard them barf plenty of times.

The crowd moves as Margo and Penelope support me, pushing through the people and carrying me straight to the front where ID Girl is at a podium, a little clipboard and earphones in her ear. Shit, they’re miked. Super cool. She’s talking into her headpiece as a guy in a Kappa Sig shirt stands there waiting, annoyance on his face.

“Girls! Get in line with everyone else!” she yells.

Penelope’s words run together. “She needs a restroom stat, please, plus we’re not twenty-one, don’t need a band, ’kay? Gotta go!”

“I’m gonna puke!” I call out in a Southern accent.

“Gross!” someone shouts as I make myself gag. People jerk away, some muttering and pushing closer to the podium to put distance between us.

Headpiece Barbie looks at us and frowns as the Kappa Sig gets a frustrated look on his face and pushes his ID at her.

She tightens her lips and looks down at the long line of people waiting to get in. I feel her gaze on us and push forward, dragging Pen and Margo with me as I mumble, “Move it, girls. Don’t give her time to say no.”

“Just come back when you’re done, and let me check your ID! I’m keeping a tally so we don’t break fire code,” she calls as we make our way down a hallway and then come to a stop a few feet away and out of her sight.

I straighten up and laugh, fixing my hair. “Works every time. It’s like telling a guy you got your period.”

We chuckle as we leave the hallway and walk through the crowded den. Masked people roam everywhere, wall-to-wall students. God. I needed this night out. It’s been three days since the talk with Blaze at the library, yet I can’t get his words out of my head.

Pfft. He said I have walls up, but his are bigger than I ever imagined.