“Sure I do.” I catch his eye in the mirror. “You need all the backing you can get.”
“It goes against the grain?—”
“Shut up. You know full well that your support is from dirty money. Sometimes, you have to bend the rules to fix them.”
“That’s Russian pragmatism at its finest.”
“It’s not my fault you lack common sense.” I snag my purse and tuck the invitation into it. “Anyway, you might need to join next year.”
“It’s bad enough that I have to be a Rho! Thank fuck I don’t live in. I’d kill someone and fuck up my chances for president before I graduate.”
“You’ll have to schmooze eventually.”
“Not yet.”
“Yes yet,” I push.
It’s a long-term argument with his uncles. They asked him what he wanted. He said the White House. They’re giving it to him… but it’s why we’re at Oakwood—connections.
Uncle Declan, Shay’s Dad, had a word with me this morning before we left for upstate.
“It’s not your job, Victoria, and don’t get me wrong, I know that. But you’re the only one he listens to at the moment. And when you become a Veronian?—”
“If.”
He chuckled.“When you become a Veronian, he’ll see that he has to take this seriously.”
“That’s not fair,”I protested.“He does take it seriously. But the morons attending Oakwood don’t make it easy. The Rhos are self-obsessed jerks whose second fascination is scoring. Shay’s not like that.”
Declan grimaced.“I blame his mother for making him a feminist.”
“I heard that!”Aela, Shay’s mom, shouted from the kitchen.“And I’m offended.”
“Be offended. It’s your fault he can’t hang out with morons!”
Aela stuck her head around the door.“Until recently, that wasn’t a bad thing.”
“I’ll try to get him to…”I pulled a face.“I don’t know, attend a party?”When Declan groaned, I snorted.“He is sociable, Uncle Declan. He just doesn’t suffer fools lightly.”
Shay’s harrumph brings me back to our current issue—him. “I can only talk about pussy so much, Victoria.”
“I know,” I soothe with a mocking tut. “It’s such a hard life being a boy.”
His pout tells me he knows I’m teasing but he’ll accept the sympathy. “I’ll try.”
Even that middling concession pains him.
I pat his arm because I empathize—Shay is good people. The Rhos aren’t. “I’ll let you know how I get on.”
“Keep me updated. I want to make sure you’re safe. God only knows what the initiation rituals are.”
If the price of entrywas proof of a beating, then… “Murder, probably.”
“How do you find this funny?” he chastises.
“Mostly, I find you funny.”
He flicks his fingers at me. “Go away.”
