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“Hades, I wasn’t in thecountryon Halloween my freshman year of Harvard. My father paid for me and some girlfriends to fly to Ibiza.”
My face darkens. “That’s bullshit.”
“It’s…not?” She frowns. “Why would I lie about that? And what exactly do you think happened between us, anyway?”
“You really want to go there, Vanya?”
“I’ve already told you: I don’t really care. But you seem to. Look, it’s not like I activelydislikeyou, Hades,” she shrugs. “We’ve just never run in the same circle. We didn’t back then when I was a party girl…the only party girl at school who wouldn’t screw you because I had some self-respect…and we don’t now, either, trust me. So if you want to ‘go there’, please, by all means—”
“You found me so fucking drunk I could barely see straight, shoved me into a room, and tried to suck my dick even though I was telling you to fucking stop,” I snap. “And don’t give me that fucking ‘a guy can’t say no’ bullshit,” I hiss. “Because I fuckingdid.”
Her brow worries, and her face pales a little.
“That happened to you?” she says quietly.
I glare at her.
“Hades,” Vanya says gently, walking toward me. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want your fucking apologies—”
“I was inIbiza, Hades. I’m really, truly sorry that someone did that to you. It’s awful.” Her face darkens as she looks away. “I woke up to a guy trying to put his hand down my pants in the basement of a party once, my senior year.” Her eyes raise to mine. “I mean, if you ever want to talk about it—”
My blood is roaring in my ears. “It wasyou. I know it was you, Vanya. You wore a Cleopatra—”
“Wait, Halloween my freshman year?” She frowns, trying to remember. “Cleopatra?”
Then she purses her lips.
“Whitney fucking Gerrard,” she says quietly.
“Excuse me?”
“Whitney Gerrard. She was in my dorm freshman year. Dark hair, and her mother is Albanian, so we have a similar complexion.” She blinks, shaking her head. “She wore a Cleopatra costume that Halloween. Definitely. And she told everyone you two were dating for like a month after. I remember distinctly, because she had these Polaroids of the two of you hugging at that party tacked up on her dorm door. You both looked pretty wasted.”
The room blurs.
Fuck.
I’m vaguely aware of Vanya approaching. And of me flinching a little when she puts her hand on my arm, then relaxing.
“You wanna sit?”
I nod, letting her guide me to the couch.
“Here.”
She hands me a glass of whiskey. I mumble a thanks and knock it back in one gulp.
“I’m so sorry, Hades. Oh my God,fuckWhitney. What an utter piece of shit.”
I nod.
“Is that why you’ve never liked me?”
I glance over at her sitting next to me.
“Mostly.” I smile wryly. “That, and I kind of always thought of you as this trust fund mob-princess brat.”
