A lump forms in my stomach as a picture of my parents fills my mind. “Because I did everything wrong.” I massage my temples, desperately trying not to see their faces. “Heartly and Xander, they just won’t get it.”
I try to see past his eyes and into his mind, wondering if he comprehends what I mean. I’m a good girl, my parents’ bright and dependable daughter. I earn prestigious scholarships and win prominent programming competitions. My security software is what put GIT over the top. I think before I do anything, and then I think harder. I don’t let myself be drugged at a high school party. My parents’ daughter is smarter than that.
My gaze turns probing as I try to transport my thoughts telepathically to Hercules. He’s a Valentine, so surely, he gets the emotional consequence of letting down our parents. Finally, Hercules breaks eye contact and searches out the glass and into the busy parking garage. His grimace makes me feel like he’s disappointed in me, and I hang my head.
“Did you leave anything upstairs?” he asks.
Funny, I hadn’t checked. I slap my jacket pockets, feeling for my cellphone and wallet. They’re there.
“I have everything.”
“All right, then, at least let me walk you home.”
A knot sits in my stomach. I’m not surprised that he knows where I live. Everybody knows where the Grove House is. It’s a relic of the very olden days that my father refuses to modernize, which makes no sense at all because our lake house was very contemporary.
However, suddenly, I’m petrified, wondering what we will say to each other. And that kiss… what about that? Should I mention it? Will he mention it? Maybe it never really happened.
“Are you sure? I mean, I can make it home. I don’t live—”
“I’m sure,” he replies curtly and presses his palm against the middle of my back. “After you.”
I’m weak in the knees again as my cells sizzle. However, I keep it together, and it feels like I'm walking on air as I proceed past the door that he’s holding open for me.
* * *
We madeit out of underground parking into the cool but comfortable night. So far, other than the constant sound of traffic that rises from the streets of the city twenty-four, seven, all I’m paying attention to is the sound of our feet shuffling across the sidewalk. He’s so near. He’s also so quiet. I’ve never been good at small talk, but I’m finding myself wishing I was better at it.
“Why O’Brien?” he asks out of the blue.
I perk up, caught off guard by his question. I’m also confused by it. “Why was I talking to O’Brien?”
“Sure, why?”
I focus on the stained concrete. “Because he was the only person who talked to me.” Once again, I’m too honest with him. I regret my answer. I should have saved face and said something that didn’t make me look so much like a loser.
He turns silent for a while. I wonder what he’s thinking but don’t dare ask. I have this irrational fear of saying the wrong thing, which will make him walk away from me.
“I’m sorry about all the Grove-Valentine bullshit,” he finally says.
I start to recall the conversation I had with O’Brien before he brought me the spiked drink. The fact that he could smile so genuinely and be so kind before violating me the way he did makes me sick to my stomach.
“Yeah,” I whisper, hanging my head. “I just learned tonight why everyone treated me like crap this year.”
“You mean you never knew?”
I look up, and I’m immediately hypnotized by his penetrating glower. Could he look yummier than he does at this very moment?
Tongue-tied, I shake my head.
He grunts thoughtfully. “Damn. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I’m strong. I can handle it.”
We smile at each other. It’s so different experiencing him up close—it’s better.
He narrows an eye. “But for real, you never knew anything about that Valentine-country bullshit?”
“Not really, no. I knew our families had issues with each other, but I didn’t know people at the school were treating me differently because of it. I mean, I just thought they were New York cliquey.”
