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That thought filled me with hot repulsion. I, on the other hand, had never even been kissed, thanks to my brother’s overcontrolling nature. Asher only had to look at a guy, and they’d steer clear of me for the rest of our lives. No one wanted to get on the wrong side of the Ice Gods.
Things had started to shift a little in senior year, when the newest member of the group had become obsessed with Lily. But the school year had ended too quickly for me to date anyone, and now we were all headed to college at HHU.
All except Ash.
The only silver lining to going to college without my brother was the added freedom it would give me. For the first time in my life, I’d be free to drink, party, and go on as many dates as I wanted. I was an adult and chaperone-free. I should feel happier about that than I did. But missing him had canceled out my excitement.
I was emptying the trash under Beckett’s desk when I saw the letter. The masthead caught my eye. It was the university crest.
I slowly reached for the crumpled piece of paper, battling with myself the entire time. I shouldn’t look. I didn’t have the right to invade his privacy.
Still, the letter ended up in my hand before I knew it.Oops.
I scanned it, my throat growing tight as I read.
Dear Mr. Anderson,
I’d like to extend my personal thanks for the generous gift made to the sports center at HHU. In recognition of the enormity of the donation, we’d like to dedicate one of the private viewing boxes to the Anderson family and reserve it for your father’s exclusive use. We will call it the Anderson box, and I’m sure he’ll enjoy watching you score many a goal from there.
In terms of the academic requirements for your chosen degree, I urge you not to worry, and have passed on the same assurances to the guidance counselor handling your case. Your entrance to HHU is under no threat, and we understand that senior year can be a rough time for anyone.
We look forward to welcoming you to HHU in the fall, and I’ll be sure to drop by practice to meet the team once we start the academic term.
Go Hellions!
John Eastwood
Dean of Hade Harbor University
I swallowed the hot knot of jealousy that had lodged in my throat. This was why people shouldn’t snoop. You nearly always regretted it. While I was going to scrape through college on a mixture of scholarships, loans, and part-time work, Beckett’s father had bought his son’s way in. With all the privilege in the world, Beckett hadn’t even bothered to do well enough in high school to get into college on his own. I’d never despised him more than at that moment.
I set the letter on the edge of the desk so I could keep glancing at it, like wiggling an aching tooth. A reminder of the differences between me and him. I’d worked hard for everything in my life. He didn’t know the meaning of working hard for anything.
The room was painfully neat. Beckett didn’t like people in his space, but his stepmother insisted that the room be cleaned regardless. I dusted the surfaces, brushing past some stacks of notebooks and a battered-looking pencil case. The edge of the duster caught the metal corner, and the case fell to the floor with a loud clatter.
Ugh. Who still had a metal pencil case anyway? It reminded me of elementary school. I bent to pick it up. It had opened in the fall, and as I grabbed it, the contents fell out.
Just leave it.
The instincts that had always served me well hissed inside my head. A prickling feeling of worry crept over me. But that was ridiculous. I’d dropped it and was here to clean. I had to pick it up and put everything back.
I picked up the scattered contents and took a moment to study them.
Blister packs of pills. Blue and purple and red. So, so many pills. I stilled, my heart suddenly clanging hard. Why did Beckett have so many pills?
The last item, hidden under the blister packs and a slim orange bottle full of yet more pills, was a small packet of white powder. I stared at the drugs in my hand in shock. What the hell was Beckett Anderson doing with so many pills he could open his own pharmacy? I recognized some of the pill names from earlier in the year when my mom’s friend had given her some leftover painkillers for her sore back. They were powerful opiates. Was Beckett taking pain pills? I knew he smoked pot at parties and always seemed pretty withdrawn. I’d chalked that up to his horrible personality, though, not anything chemical.
Only on the ice did he seem to wake up and come alive. On the ice, he was fast, confident, and tough as hell. He smiled and laughed. Helived. Everywhere else, he was just there. Was he on something? This had trouble written all over it. I didn’t want to know. It wasn’t my problem, and Beckett certainly wouldn’t want my advice or concern. I closed the tin firmly, wishing I could erase this unwanted knowledge from my brain.
“What are you doing?”
A deep voice cut through my shock.Fuck. I felt guilty at being caught snooping. I couldn’t let Beckett know I’d seen the pills. Instinct screamed at me that it would be a very, very bad idea to let him know. Instead, I turned around slowly, slipping the pencil case into my back pocket before waving my duster at the letter on the desk.
“Cleaning, what else?”
Beckett had come out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The rooms in this house were so damn soundproof, I hadn’t even realized he was in there. He leaned against the bathroom door, wearing nothing but a towel. My brain stalled for a moment as I surveyed his chest, water droplets scattered like diamonds across the picture-perfect image. His dark tattoos scrolled across his shoulder and down his arm, only making him hotter. How could someone so evil be so distracting to look at? Just another unfair thing about Beckett Anderson. Terrible people shouldn’t come in such pretty packages. It was false advertising.
While I studied him, he watched me right back, his gaze starting at my head and dipping over my entire body before he pushed off the door and sauntered toward me.
