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I close my eyes, but it doesn’t stop the tears. Wren jumps up, wraps her arms around my shoulders, and hugs me. And we stay like that until I cry it out. I cried almost every night I attended Monarch, but not like this. The release is cathartic as my breathing turns ragged and I gulp down air. Wren hands me a fistful of tissues, and I blow my nose until everything is out. And then, sniffing, I blow it again. She keeps her hand on my shoulder.
I whisper, “I was afraid if I told, you would cut me off.”
Wren smiles weakly. “If we were still at Stonehaven, I probably would’ve gone without looking back. I would have left you in the dust. But I hope I’ve changed since coming here. Slowly, I’m realizing that Stonehaven wasn’t the universe, or even a small part of it.”
Inhaling deeply, I press my forehead to my knees. “I’m being taught daily that the code of honor we had at Stonehaven only exists there.”
“No one would have dared to out you there, Charlotte,” Wren reassures me as if it means anything now. “Which one of those gross boys did it? Did he get you drunk? That’s what people are saying.”
My head whips back. “What people?”
Wren’s lips tighten as her cheeks pale. “No one, really. Just a few boys in the dorm. And someone told Prisha.”
“And the Alphas?” I ask.
“I don’t think they know.” Wren’s expression is serious. “Kurt was asking about you recently. I don’t think he would ask if he knew.”
I roll my eyes. “I guess I have to cling to that.”
“Charlotte, I’ll give you money, and that will be one less thing to worry about. Go out on a date with Kurt. He is so nice, and he is husband material. If you were to marry him, you could flip Howland off and never have to see the asshole again. I never liked your father. Neither does my dad.”
“You won’t tell your parents?” I ask.
“Of course not.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and I’m thankful I didn’t tell her everything.
“Charlotte, go out with Kurt. His major is pre-law. You won’t have to deal with a doctor ever again. Charlotte Ashford. It sounds so cool.”
I get up from the chair and wander aimlessly around the room. I look at all the pretty things she has scattered about. I pick up a gold bracelet and turn it over and over in my hands. “What if he’s only interested in fucking me?”
Wren scoffs. “They all are. You know that. Are you still a virgin?”
I nod. “Believe it or not, yes. I hope the first time will be memorable.”
Wren sits down at her desk and crosses her legs. “Well, men like him marry virgins, or women with little experience. So, keep it that way. It’s a little misstep. You still have a shot. Just don’t do it again...and something else.”
“What?” I ask, putting down the bracelet.
“That guy Asher. I guess he might be fun, but you’ll get a reputation if you keep hanging out with him. And you definitely need to let Jaxon go. He’s the one that told people. Hudson has potential, but he hangs with them too much.”
Slowly, I realize that Wren and I aren’t talking about the same thing. She thinks I’m devastated over giving Jaxon a blow job and being broke. She tilts her head to the side and gives me a strange look, and I realize that my expression is giving too much away.
“I should’ve known better,” I rush to say. “Of course, Jaxon was going to kiss and tell. Well, more than a kiss.”
“You don’t want to be linked to any of them,” Wren states with confidence. “What do their families do anyway?”
Chapter 35
Charlotte
When I wake up the next morning, part of me is glad that Wren didn’t connect the dots. She obviously thought I was chasing after any guy because I was broke. She assured me that I was still a quality catch, but I better start acting more exclusive.
I need someone to talk to. Not my best friend who still lives in a high tower, or the guy who wants to control me like he did in high school. After my last class, I make a beeline to the health center. I have no intention of telling all, but maybe it would be better to talk to someone who won’t text her parents later.
The health center is located away from the main campus, near the administrative buildings. It’s a smart placement—no one knows if you’re going to get help or to see your academic counselor. I slip inside the heavy glass door into a room that hasn’t been updated since the building was probably built in the sixties. The only nice thing about the décor is the abundance of plants. The woman behind the counter beckons me over with a wave of her hand and a broad smile.
“Welcome. Do you wish to see a counselor?”
