But her words still echoed in my ears, egging on the wrath.She doesn’t have a son.You snake. And the image of Beck’s face crumpling, just as it had in the garden all those years ago, filled my mind.W-R-A-T-H.
Without thinking, I flipped Mrs. Johnson’s other cup up, soaking the front of her dress in vodka.
I should’ve been prepared for her drunk overreaction. I wasn’t. She let out an ear-piercing shriek, and I couldn’t help but flinch back into Beck. My spine hit his chest, but only for a moment, because he immediately snatched my wrist. He wrenched me away as Mrs. Johnson still screamed, as if the vodka had been battery acid, drawing the attention of partygoers in the ballroom.
Beck dragged us into a closet reserved for coat overflow for winter parties, slamming the door shut behind us. The world was suspended in darkness for a moment before hefound the switch, and the light illuminated his wide, glowing green eyes. He was quiet, listening to see if anyone followed us.
I could still hear Mrs. Johnson’s cries, but as more voices joined in, it became impossible to differentiate words. Until—“She threw it on me! She threw it on me!”
“You’re cut off, Rebecca. Come on, let’s get you a water.”
“But—she?—”
Beck’s shoulders loosened as he turned away from the door and to me. “Are you insane?” he demanded. “Why did you do that?”
I blinked, eyes burning from the few drops of alcohol that’d gotten in. “Which part?”
“Any of it!” Beck’s chest rose and fell sharply. His white T-shirt glowed in the low lighting, and it was tucked into the belt of his black jeans, which hung loose off his hips. “Get in the middle. Dump Mrs. Johnson’s drink on her. What iswrong with you?”
“Me?” I huffed out a breath, and a drop of alcohol blew off my lip. “Why were you standing there, taunting her?”
“Iwas tauntingher?”
“You could’ve walked away. You should’ve!” The sting in my eyes was hard to ignore, and I growled as I scrubbed my fingers into them. Smudging my makeup right off, surely, but itburned. “Where even were you? I didn’t see you get here.”
“I was in the garden.” A moment later, something soft brushed my chin, and I opened my blearyeyes to find Beck pressing a handkerchief to my skin, catching a drop of alcohol. Avoiding eye contact, he muttered, “It’s clean.”
I held still as he dragged the swatch of plaid cloth down my throat. My heart tugged violently, and so did my mind, filling with the image of a littler version of Beck who’d done the same thing. And then held it out for me to take. “You still carry a handkerchief?” I asked, rubbing the fabric against my eye. “I didn’t realize you were still so… insufferably pretentious.”
Beck’s eyes shifted to mine as he remembered the words. Their hardness softened as his lips twitched. The tension between us didn’t so much shatter as it bent. “Old habits die hard.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the dry way he’d said it, or if the few drops of alcohol that’d made it past my lips had effectively warped my brain, but I couldn’t help it—I laughed. I scrubbed the handkerchief into my other eye, laughing at Beck, at myself, at the fact that I’d now be meeting Carter’s parents reeking of alcohol. And at some point, I’d have to leave this closet with Beck following out behind me.Thatwould be a good look.
Suddenly, Beck’s expression shifted. He almost looked… horrified. His green eyes traced my face as if something there alarmed him. Disarmed him.
Beck looked away. “You look ugly, laughing like that while your makeup is all crazy.”
“Gee, thanks.” I gave a disbelieving scoff, watching as he turned toward the closet door. “Wait!” I called, stopping him from leaving. “I have a question. And I want the truth.”
Beck didn’t turn. “When have I ever lied to you?”
I was sure he had. Plenty of times. “Are Carter and Lydia together?” I lowered his handkerchief. “Is this some big joke on me?”
In hindsight, I shouldn’t have asked it. The soft atmosphere in the closet had lulled me into a false sense of security. Beck turned around, eyes lit up with the same sort of glee a cat gets at the sight of a new toy. “You saw them come here together?”
So theyhadarrived together. “Are they dating?”
“How am I to know?”
“Youknow.” I had to clamp my jaw shut to keep my voice from rising. “You and Lydia are close. Lydia asks you to do all these things to sabotage Carter and me. Don’t act like you’re oblivious.”
Beck considered me, considered how he wanted to respond. Every moment with him was like a chess game of its own. I moved, he counter-moved. And with Beck, I turned into a player like Carter—eager for a win, fumbling with my strategy.
“You’re answering your own question, you know,” Beck said finally. “Lydia wouldn’t ask me to sabotage you if they were together.”
The closet was quiet. I couldn’t hear the music from the ballroom at all from in here, only the sound of my pulse in my ears. Right. If Lydia was trying to get me out of the game, it was because she hadn’t won yet. She was desperately trying, even resorting to dirty moves, but it wasn’t working. She wasn’t winning. I was.
I didn’t feel relieved, though. I just felt tired.
