For the first time, I see genuine surprise in his eyes. “Who told you about Hudson?”
“Lia did. Last night when we were having tea. She mentioned that—” I break off at the glacial coldness in his eyes.
“What did she tell you?” The words are quiet, but that only makes them hit harder. As does the way he drops my hand.
I swallow, then finish in a rush. “Just that her boyfriend died. She didn’t say anything about you at all. I just took a guess that her boyfriend might also be…”
“My brother? Yeah, Hudson was my brother.” The words drip ice, in an effort—I think—to keep me from knowing how much they hurt. But I’ve been there, have spent weeks doing the same thing, and he doesn’t fool me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, and this time I’m the one who reaches for him. The one whose fingers whisper over his wrist and the back of his hand. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, that it doesn’t touch the kind of grief you’re feeling. But I truly am sorry you’re hurting.”
For long seconds, he doesn’t say anything. Just watches me with those dark eyes that see so much and show so little. Finally, when I’m searching my brain for something else to say, he asks, “What makes you think I’m hurting?”
“Aren’t you?” I challenge.
More silence. Then, “I don’t know.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what that means.”
He shakes his head, then moves back several feet. My hand clenches, missing the feel of him under my fingers.
“I have to go.”
“Wait.” I know better, but I reach for him again. I can’t help it. “Just like that?”
He lets me hold his hand for one second, two. Then he turns and walks back down the path to the pond so fast, it’s nearly a run.
I don’t even bother trying to keep up. If I’ve learned anything in the last couple of days, it’s that when Jaxon Vega wants to disappear, he disappears, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Instead, I turn in the other direction and head back to the castle.
Now that I have a set destination in mind, the walk seems much faster than my original wandering did. But I still can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that I’m being watched. Which is absurd, considering Jaxon went in the other direction and Lia disappeared right after her argument with him.
The feeling stays with me the whole time I’m outside. And something else is niggling at me, too, something I can’t quite figure out. At least not until I reach the warmth and safety of the castle—and my room. It’s as I’m peeling off all the layers I’m wearing that it finally hits me.
Neither Lia nor Jaxon was wearing a jacket.
17
It’s Discretion,
not Diamonds,
That’s a
Girl’s Best Friend
“You sure you’re up for this?” Macy asks several hours later as I grab a sweatshirt from my closet.
Is she kidding? “Not even a little bit.”
“That’s what I figured.” She heaves a huge sigh. “We could cancel if you want. Tell everyone you’re still not over the altitude sickness.”
“And have Flint think I’m chicken? No thank you.” I actually couldn’t care less if Flint thinks I’m afraid or not. But Macy has been so excited about this snowball fight that there’s no way I’m going to take it away from her. The fact that she offered to cancel because she knows I’m not into it only makes me more determined to go. “We’re doing this snowball fight and we’re going to…”
“Kick some butt?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of not make complete and total fools of ourselves, but way to think positive.”
She laughs, as I intended her to, then bounds off the bed and starts layering up big-time. Which…finally, someone at this ridiculous school who has some sense. Between the jerks I met the first night and then Jaxon and Lia, I’m beginning to think everyone in this place has some bizarre immunity to cold. Like maybe they’re aliens and I’m the ignorant and fragile human living among them.
After we both finish getting dressed in—I counted this time—six layers, she herds me toward the door. “Come on, we don’t want to be late or we’ll totally get ambushed.”
“Ambushed. With snowballs. Sounds fantastic.” San Diego has never looked so good.
“Just wait. You’re going to love it. Plus, it’ll give you a chance to meet all of Flint’s friends.” She checks her makeup one more time in the mirror by the door, then all but shoves me into the hallway.
“All of Flint’s friends?” I ask as we make our way through the halls. “Exactly how many people are going to be at this thing?”
“I don’t know. At least fifty.”
“Fifty people? At a snowball fight?”
“Maybe more. Probably more.”
“How does that even work?” I query.
“Does it matter?” she answers, brows raised.
“Yes, it matters. I mean, how can you possibly keep track of that many people trying to throw things at you?”
“I don’t think you keep track of them so much as try to flatten everyone you come across without being flattened yourself.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe the altitude sickness is coming back.”
“Too late.” She links her arm through mine and grins. “We’re almost there.”
“So can you be a little more specific about who all is going to be there? Anyone I’ve already met—I mean, besides Flint?”
“I don’t know if Lia will be there. Cam won’t—he and Flint don’t really get along. It’s a…thing.”
I think about asking exactly what kind of thing she’s referring to, but the truth is, I don’t care if Lia shows up. Or Cam. There’s only one person I’m trying to find out about, and since Macy isn’t getting there herself, I guess I really am going to have to ask.
“How about Jaxon?” I keep my voice light even though, after our encounter earlier, my heart is pounding at the mere mention of his name. “Is he going to be there?”
“Jaxon Vega?” By the time she gets to the second syllable of Jaxon’s name, her voice is little more than a squeak.
“He’s the one we saw in the hall that first day, right?”
“Yeah. Um…yeah.” Macy gives up any pretense of chill—and of walking, as it turns out. Instead, she turns to me, hands on her hips, and demands, “Why are you asking about Jaxon?”