Page 48 of SNOB

“We’re good.”

“Are we?”

“What do you want me to say? Please be my friend because I backed you once? Thank you for covering tuition, but if you want to fit in with these idiots, be my guest."

“I overheard one of the girls from the Posse say you and Mac were with Beau that night. Are you okay, Ember? Mac’s dangerous. I warned you to stay away and you?—”

“Funny, ‘cause Mac is the only person interested in keeping me here. Maybe Paradise Hill is what's dangerous and he’s a victim." I hear it. I’m standing up for Malcolm McKinsley and that makes my stomach twist.

“Really? Because I heard he made you kneel in front of him at Sun House and do some pretty humiliating things.”

“Weird, I don’t remember you being there.” Turning away, I take a deep breath. “Nothing is happening with Mac. I’ll see you around, Greta.”

Hustling towards Riviera’s class, I crave the calmness the rink brings me. It’s the only place I’m safe from leftover whispers, allegations and conversations like this.

While Mac hasn’t helped with the mural, we’re both still always there, working on our passions. I always feel his eyes on me when I’m at the rink. His rink. His slapshots match my strokes and it’s soothing. Unthreatening. We’re both too focused on our work to get on each other’s nerves for once.

This morning, he wasn’t there. And part of me missed him.

When I arrive at Professor Riviera’s class, our canvases sit circled around a single stool. I’m just in time to hear the end of her weekly introduction to the next few hours.

“Live drawing,” she says. “We’ll have our model join us shortly, but for now, take out your utensils and get ready to go.”

Settling into my stool, I reach into my bag to pull out my favourite graphite pencils. Couldn’t afford these if it wasn’t for Mac, but I know how best to use them. A deep breath helps me take in my inspiring surroundings, light cascading into the space.

My mind drifts to the Mac-less rink this morning. Maybe it’s better Mac and I stay out of each others’ way. I can focus on art. This doesn’t have to get weirder than it already has.

My eyes settle on an empty stool next to me, Beau’s smile in my head. He should be here. That only solidifies how deadly our chaos can be.

“Watch out!”

His voice still rings in my head, and as I squeeze my eyes to get it out, some laughter comes from the other side of class. Hannah. She’s quieter lately, but I know she aids in my isolation. Her posse still want to exclude me, glaring and laughing at any chance. And it still makes me want to slam a canvas over her head.

“Okay, everyone, let’s welcome today’s model,” Professor Riviera announces. “Star of the Saint Bons Bisons, and our very own Crown.”

“Malcolm McKinsley.”

My head whips to the door. You got to be fucking kidding me.

Mac

I’m going to kill Gray.

It’s his turn to keep an eye on Ember.

If I knew I was signing up to pose nude in front of a class of SBU art nerds, and Hannah, I wouldn’t be here. But the look on Ember’s face makes it worth it.

Her cheeks redden as she squirms in her seat. When her eyes lock on mine, I smirk.

“Looks like we’re all in for a treat,” Hannah says. But I ignore her, my black silk robe hanging off my shoulders as I move to the wooden stool in the centre of the class.

“Make yourself comfortable, Malcolm.” Professor Riviera’s cheeks are as red as Ember’s as she gestures to my seat. I catch some whispers from students in the class, thrilled to see a Crown about to shed it all in their presence.

“You’re welcome,” I say, taking my seat. Propping one leg up, breeze tempers my nether as I stare right into those bloodstone eyes.

Moving Ember into The Emerald was only the beginning. She's not an obsession, I’m protecting myself and my future. And if Ember takes one wrong step, it could ruin everything.

And I’ll ruin her.

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