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But I hadn’t, hence why I was avoiding him like the plague now, why I had Erin picking me up and taking me home.
The girls couldn’t get over the cold shower thing the rest of lunch. It was all they talked about. I was grateful when the bell rang and it was time to get up and go to our next class. A cold shower, as far as I was concerned, wasn’t as weird as the locked refrigerator and the strange paint Gareth used—but I couldn’t tell them about those things.
Erin was still laughing about it when she came to meet me at my locker at the end of the day. She already had her bag and whatever it was she was bringing home for the weekend stuffed inside it. “I still can’t believe you take cold showers,” she chuckled.
I let out a hard sigh. “I am so regretting telling you guys that.” I shoved my math book into my bag. That was about the only homework I wanted to do this weekend; the rest could wait for study hall Monday morning. I shut my locker and we started walking.
“I bet you are,” Erin remarked. “We might seem nice, but when we hear something that ridiculous, we just can’t let it go. Ever. Expect to hear about it at graduation.” Though she sounded like she was joking, I was a bit horrified, wondering if she was also partly serious.
We walked through the busy halls, the other students hustling to leave for the weekend. Eyes were still on me as I walked by, but the stares weren’t as hard and curious as they’d been when I’d first started. Everyone else was getting used to me, bit by bit. I was Brianna Montgomery to them, as much as I wished I wasn’t.
We exited the school and crossed through the parking lot. It was when we got into Erin’s Oldsmobile that she asked, “Hey, you wanna come over for a while? I can drop you home in a few hours if you want to hang out.”
Did she really want to hang out with me, or was this her way of getting close to me so I’d eventually invite her over to Montgomery Manor, so she could get at Gareth on his home turf?
Either way, time away from the house was time away from Gareth, so I said, “Yeah. Let’s hang.”
The smile Erin gave me after that made me think it was the former—though I had no idea why. I wasn’t interesting beyond my art. I didn’t think there was anything too special about me. Granted, it wasn’t like I’d ever talked about art before to Erin or her friends, so she couldn’t know what made me tick.
Maybe she just wanted to know more about me.
Erin lived in a ranch on the border of town, where the houses had a bit of space between them, but they were all small and old, overgrown. Her parents weren’t home, so it was just us. She took me to her room, and I was shocked to see just how tiny it was. Cramped. It was full; it barely contained a twin-sized bed, a small closet, and a dresser. There was scarcely room for anything else.
I sat cross-legged on her bed with her after dropping my bag to the floor. Old carpet lined the floor, in need of a good shampoo. The walls had been painted in a light pink color years ago, but you could see scuffs and dings on it, revealing the white underneath.
Guess I’d forgotten what it was like in a normal house. Crazy how quickly you could get used to living in a place like Montgomery Manor.
Erin had her phone on her knee, and she leaned back against her headboard, staring squarely at me. Her eyes were squinted at me, like she was trying to size me up. It was a silly expression on her, and I had to laugh and ask, “What?”
“I just… you’re not at all like Gareth. How did your mom and Alistair Montgomery meet?”
“She runs an art gallery. He went to one of the gallery nights, and they hit it off, I guess.”
“Oh, so she’s one of those smug art types?”
Again, I had to laugh. That was a good way to put it. My mom didn’t really care about art; she only cared about what art could bring her, how it made her seem more worldly. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“He was probably there with Gareth,” Erin was busy saying, pulling the ponytail out of her red hair and letting its frizzy mess free. She pulled it to one shoulder and started to pick at the ends with her fingers. “Or maybe just looking for something to buy and take home. Gareth’s always been an artist. I don’t have one creative bone in my body.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but it was right then her words really sank in. Not about her not having a creative bone, but before that. Alistair might’ve been looking for something to take home. With what Gareth kept saying… was it possible that Alistair had seen my work that night and wanted to bring me to Gareth?
Oh, my God. Listen to me, suddenly a conspiracy theorist. That was just insane. No freaking way that was what happened. If Erin wasn’t watching me through her split ends, I would’ve rolled my eyes at myself at that thought.
“I actually enjoy art,” I said. “I draw and paint when I have time.”
“Really? That’s cool. I’m jealous.” Erin said something else after that, but my phone buzzed with a text.
I pulled it out of the pocket on my leggings and saw an unfamiliar number had texted me:Where are you?
There was only one person it could be. Gareth. He was used to Erin dropping me off immediately after school, so when I didn’t come straight home, he was on alert. It didn’t surprise me to know he’d somehow gotten my number; I definitely didn’t give it to him, but if he called his uncle and asked, I was sure Alistair told him.
Or maybe he’d had my number this whole time and waited until now to use it.
“Hold on,” I told Erin. “I think Gareth just messaged me.” I bit my bottom lip, staring at the text and wondering what I should tell him. Maybe I should just ignore him and his pathetic attempt at controlling me. That had to be what this was about. He wanted me at the house.
“What does he want?” Erin asked, perking up a little. It was so obvious she had a crush on him.
My fingers typed out a message back:I’m with Erin. I hit send, not wanting to give him any more details. He could fuck off for all I cared. “Nothing. I never told him I was coming over your house after school.”
