Sol’s gaze is kind and the silence is comforting.
I take in a sharp breath and tilt my face up, trying to calm my skittering pulse by reminding myself that Sol isn’t the enemy. Even if he’s best friends with the devil himself.
His arm brushes mine when he turns to me. “You don’t have to be scared. I’m not going to tell Dutch.”
“Dutch already knows.”
His eyebrows jump. Then he nods to himself as if that explains something.
I prod, “Dutch doesn’t tell you all his deepest darkest secrets?”
“We’re all entitled to our secrets. Even you, Cooper.”
I glance up at the sound of understanding in his voice. He’s the complete opposite of Dutch and his brothers, which feels strange given they’re an obviously tight-knit group.
Moonlight falls over his jet-black hair, chocolate-brown eyes and the jaw line that could chip glass. Standing, Sol would tower over me, but sitting side-by-side like this, he feels reachable.
“Why did you escape out here?” I ask.
He surveys the sprawling bushes in the backyard. I follow his gaze, noting the way the flowers are dancing in the breeze.
“I guess, in a way, I was just like you. Wearing a mask. A costume. I needed time to take it off.”
“What do you mean? Aren’t these your people?” I sweep my hand out at the party.
“Nah. I’m a scholarship kid. Like you.”
My eyes widen. I should have known that. He mentioned growing up in my neighborhood, but I assumed that once he moved out, it was to go and live in the fancy gated communities like this.
“I’ve been out of Redwood for a while,” Sol admits, “but now that I’m back, it’s not settling on my skin the way it used to. I can’t quite find my place anymore.”
“Your place is with The Kings. It’s kind of obvious.”
His lips quirk up. “What about you? Where’s your place, Cadence Cooper?”
“My place is wherever the bills are paid and there’s a roof over my sister’s head.”
“Don’t you have a dream of your own?”
“Who has time for dreams?” I roll my eyes. “You can’t keep the lights on with it. You can’t pay the bank. You can’t put food on the table.”
“Now you sound more jaded than my abuela.”
“I prefer to think of myself as a realist.”
“Pessimist,” he challenges.
“Agree to disagree.”
He laughs.
I smile back, enjoying the sound of it.
His phone chimes.
“It’s from Dutch,” Sol says, checking the screen. “He’s looking for you.”
At once, every bone in my body goes rigid. “That’s my cue to leave.”
Sol climbs to his feet. I stand and face him. Through the balcony doors, I can see the elites of Redwood Prep dancing together. They look so happy, so carefree.
“Do you ever just want to… burn it all down?” I murmur.
“Would you?”
“If I thought I could get away with it.”
He looks down at me with something close to camaraderie. “I like you, Cadence Cooper.”
I open my mouth to respond in kind when two figures come charging around the side of the house, cursing up a storm.
“Get your hands off me,” Christa hisses. She squirms like the snake that she is, caught in Paris’s tight grip.
The former queen bee is wearing a sparkly pink, one-shoulder mini dress. Her blond hair is wild around her face. There’s a scar on her lip from where she banged her chin into a locker after cornering me.
Paris hauls Christa into the backyard. “I told you not to show your face at my party, Christa. Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Who the hell…?” Christa chokes out a laugh. There’s a wine bottle in her hand and she whirls it around like a pointer. “I’m Christa Miller, the queen of Redwood Prep and you’re just my understudy.”
Paris flings her hair over her shoulder. “Not anymore.”
“You think you can just waltz in, take my friends, take my position on the team, take my life? You’re a lying, back-stabbing skank!”
“At least I’m not a murderer!”
“That’s not true. I didn’t try to murder that—” Christa’s eyes land on where Sol and I are spying from the balcony.
Oh no.
Her eyes sharpen to daggers. “Having fun after ruining my life, Cooper?”
I back up a step. “I didn’t ruin your life, Christa. You did.”
Christa’s face changes into something ferocious and dark. She points a crooked finger. “You’re the reason this is all happening. You’re the one who opened your big mouth and snitched to the cops.”
She launches toward the balcony like a missile. Her fancy stilettos hit the wooden stairs in rapid beats.
I feel panic thick and pulsing in my mouth.
I have to get away from this crazy chick.
But when I set one foot inside the party, I notice Dutch coming down the stairs. His powerful shoulders are a mile wide. His head swings back and forth as he searches the crowd.
If he sees me standing on the balcony, he’s going to come over.
Trapped between a rock and a hard place, I take my chances with Christa.
I give her a wide berth, my eyes on the stairs. “Relax, Christa. I saved you from getting jail time. You should be thanking me.”
“You got me suspended!”
“Three days? That’s nothing but a slap on the wrist.” I edge down the stairs. “It could have been worse. Let bygones be bygones.”
“Screw you, slut!”
Christa makes a mad leap and lands on top of me. Her shriek of frustration is something out of a horror movie.
Freaking lunatic.
Without warning, she grabs my hair and yanks. My entire head snaps back with such force, I’m afraid that my neck is going to crack in two.
I grab her wrist, scratching, pulling, doing anything to pry her fingers from my hair.
Christa’s eyes are bright with hatred and alcohol. She screams into my face, and the stench of liquor is as abrasive as her high-pitched voice.
“You’re gonna pay for this!”
Her yelling draws the Redwood Prep kids outside. They stream out of the house like they paid to watch an MMA fight.
Paris is looking on with her eyes wide and darting between me and Christa. The little punk. She aggravated Christa and now I’m the one who’s taking the heat for it.
Christa hauls her hand back to slap me, but a blur speeds into my line of sight. Someone grabs her wrist.
I glance up and realize that I’m wrong.
There are two hands restraining Christa.
One belongs to Sol.
The other to…
Dutch.
Sol releases Christa’s hand first. He turns to me. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say shakily.
“Get out of here, Christa,” Dutch orders.
“Oh, I see! Now that you got what you wanted, you think this is over? I won’t go down by myself, Dutch! I’ll drag everyone with me!”
Dutch makes eye contact with his brothers. Zane and Finn march forward stonily and grip Christa’s arms. They’re both needed because the cheerleader is bucking like a bull.
The cameras are rolling. Redwood is filming the second disgraceful fall of Christa Miller.
I almost feel sorry for her. She wrapped her entire identity in being the queen of Redwood Prep and look where that got her? Now, the very people who used to fear her are laughing at her. And her ‘friends’? They’ve abandoned her.
I’d stand up for her if my head wasn’t throbbing from where she tried to make me bald.
Karma is a—
Sol looks at me and runs his fingers through my hair, smoothing down the strands. “Does it hurt?”
“Not that much,” I whisper quietly.
He wraps gentle fingers around my wrist. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
I take one step in his direction when my entire body jolts back.
Someone just hauled me backward.
I glance down. There’s another hand around my wrist.
And it’s not Sol’s.
