Page 28 of Wicked Waters

“Oh, shit.” I glanced behind me at Gracelyn and Samira.

“Oh, shit is right.” Samira grimaced. “Come on. We’d better catch up before anything happens.” We followed in Aria’s wake as quickly as we could, catching up with her as she rounded the corner of the sofa where Tristan was seated with a girl on either side of him, a joint dangling from his fingers. When he caught sight of the rage on Aria’s face, he smirked, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. With another jerk of his hand, she lost her balance, falling into his lap with a cry, much to the displeasure of the girls on either side of him.

“Aww, sweetheart, you don’t need to throw yourself at me to get my attention,” he drawled, banding his arm around her waist to hold her in place. She didn’t miss a beat, swinging her body around to straddle his thighs. Their eyes connected, and she raised a disdainful brow.

“What’s the matter, head boy? Two girls aren’t enough to satisfy you anymore? I hate to disappoint, but I have no interest in joining your little orgy.”

He lifted the joint to his lips and inhaled deeply. “Shame,” he breathed on an exhale, smoke curling from his mouth.

Aria leaned in, stealing the smoke while the rest of us watched, wide-eyed. “I seem to remember you calling me a drug user. Bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Tristan leaned in even closer, murmuring something too low to catch, but one of the girls at his side frowned. Aria leaned in and whispered something in his ear, making him chuckle. “You’re right. Up you get, little scorpion. Go and shout at Roman so we can get on with enjoying the party.”

“Enjoy your orgy,” she said sweetly, swinging herself off his lap and blowing him a kiss with her middle finger. He raised his finger in return with a wide grin on his face, and I was so engrossed in watching their bizarre exchange that it took a moment for Tristan’s words to register.

Then everything came flooding back in one sickening rush.

Roman.

“Aria, no,” I called, drawing everyone’s attention, including the one person I didn’t want to notice me. I kept my gaze fixed on my friend, well aware of the two sets of eyes across the table. One set bored holes into my skull—Freya—and the other slid over me before pointedly turning away. Roman’s gaze was like a burn, but a burn of ice.

Cold. So very cold.

And the jealousy. How I hated it. Hated that I wanted to tear Freya from him, to choose violence, to make sure she never went near him again. That was not me, and the fact that Roman affected me in such a visceral way was just another reason why I needed to forget about him as soon as possible.

Aria glanced at me, and her shoulders slumped. Twisting her head, she bared her teeth at Roman. “Stay the fuck away from my friend, Cavendish,” she ground out before dragging me away. I heard Freya mumbling something about how he’d never go near me, but her words were thankfully lost in the crowd. Aria, Gracelyn, and Samira surrounded me, forcing my focus away from the people clustered on the sofas.

After a quick detour to the makeshift bar, Gracelyn thrust a drink into my hand, and I happily accepted it. Holding up my can, I looked at each of my friends in turn. “Tonight, we forget the gods exist.”

We clinked our cans together, and a smile crossed Aria’s face. “You know what’s even better than a god? A goddess. What do you say?”

Unlike the last time I’d been a student at Hatherley Hall, wanting to be a goddess at the ball and somehow ending up as their youngest ever one, it was at the bottom of my list of priorities. I groaned. “You really want me to be one of the goddesses, don’t you?”

“Mostly because I’m petty and it would amuse me to see Freya’s face if you were crowned. Elena’s definitely gonna be one of the three goddesses—that’s pretty much a guarantee now she’s Knox’s girlfriend—and probably Penelope since she’s head girl and she was one of the goddesses last year. You need to be the third.”

“I’ll let you campaign for me if I can campaign for you.” I smirked at her when she pulled a disgusted face. “Don’t look at me like that. Out of the two of us, you’d probably end up being the one who gets crowned. Everyone likes you. You’re popular, whether you want to be or not.”

“Ugh, no. Don’t even joke about that. Not everyone likes me, anyway. The wannabe goddesses don’t.”

“Yeah, because they’re jealous that Tristan flirts with you all the time,” Gracelyn interjected, and Samira nodded.

“She’s right. He totally does.”

Aria blanched. “That’s just wrong. Sowrong. If you knew—” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “Whatever. The point is, not everyone likes me.”

“Come on.” I batted my lashes at her. “Do it for me? Double the chance to oust Freya.”

“You do realise the gods and goddesses have to dance together? In front of the whole fucking school? It’s a complete farce,” she muttered.

“Yeah, and if you’re crowned, you can pick Roman and ‘accidentally’ knee him in the balls. Or tread on his foot with your heels. Penelope would dance with Tristan, wouldn’t she? It makes sense since they’re head boy and girl.”

“True. Fuck it, okay, I’ll let it be known that I’m throwing my hat in the ring. Just for you. But I want it to be known that I’m doing this under duress. And there’s no chance I’ll get voted in over you, anyway.”

“Noted.”

We smiled at each other.

A couple of hours later, and the drinks and the atmosphere were beginning to work their magic. I’d made sure I kept my back to Roman, not wanting to witness the point when he invariably took Freya down to the lower level of the crypts, which, as Elena had previously informed me, was where the gods took their girl of the moment when they wanted some privacy. I couldn’t deal with that, not yet.

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