Page 15 of Foolish Games

“What about that one?” she asks, squeezing my hand and nodding at Sebastian as he emerges from the kitchen with a tray.

I snort out a laugh. “You were just lecturing me not to settle for Chaz, and now you want me to hook up with our waiter?”

“He seems fun,” she says. “And he’s got lovely hands.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Now, you don’t marry that type,” she says. “But I’d bet he could show you a thing or two. You know, before I married your grandfather, I had a dalliance with a boy from the other side of the tracks.”

“Nana, stop,” I say, laughing uncomfortably. “I tutor the guy. It would be awkward. And anyway, he’s not my type.”

“If you say so,” she says, arching her brows and going back to her food, where she picks up a toasted pecan with her fork and looks at it like it’s a cockroach. “What in god’s name is this doing on my salad?”

six

Vivienne Delacroix

I’m relieved when dinner is over and dancing recommences. Halfway through, my feet are dead tired, and I just want to sit down. But that’s not how we do things. I have to dance with every last founding son of appropriate age before I can be done for the night. I have to smile and make small talk and pretend I don’t notice that Chaz, who doesn’t have the same pressures, spends the whole evening dancing with or sitting with Krissy.

It’s silly of me to resent that. He can’t help that he’s not a founding son. He doesn’t know anyone but Krissy, and he’s too socially awkward to mingle and make new friends. There are maybe five or six other Faulkner High families in attendance, but their kids aren’t any friendlier to Chaz than the Willow Heights kids, who make up the majority of high schoolers in attendance.

I have to take a break between the last few dances to let my blistered feet rest. I wore dancing shoes, and after a lifetime of attending these things, I’m an equal dance partner to just about anyone on the floor, but I’m not used to dancing for hours on end.

While I’m resting my feet before the last song, Chaz finally comes over and squeezes into the chair beside me at one of the tiny round tables at the edge of the dance floor. “Hey,” he says. “Are we ever going to talk? Or are you going to keep ignoring me all night?”

“Both,” I say. “This isn’t the place to have this conversation, Chaz.”

“What conversation?” he asks, drawing back with wide eyes. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No,” I say with a sigh. “I just don’t want to fight in public, especially at a party with my family and all the families they want to impress in attendance, okay? It’s… Tacky.”

“I’m tacky?” Chaz demands, staring at me like he doesn’t know me.

“Not you,” I assure him, reaching for his hand.

He draws away. “Is that what this is really about? You think you’re too good for me because my family isn’t in the same tax bracket as yours? Or because we don’t have six generations of millionaires?”

“Chaz,” I hiss, lowering my voice. “Stop it.”

“I don’t think I will,” he says, stiffening and sitting up straight.

“It’s not about my family or yours,” I assure him. “It’s about the fact that I told you it makes me uncomfortable how close you are with Krissy, and instead of respecting our relationship and making me comfortable, you spent the night with her.”

“I didn’t spend the night with her,” he says, rolling his eyes. “She spent the night at my house, and I told you, nothing happened.”

“And that’s all I ever get,” I say. “Words.”

We stare at each other for a minute. “You get my loyalty,” Chaz says after a pause. “I’ve never cheated. What do you want me to do to prove it? Ditch my best friend for my girlfriend?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I would never ask for that. I just want you to have enough respect for my feelings about it to know that spending the night—or having her spend the night—wouldn’t be cool with me.”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you,” he says, throwing his hands up.

I stare at him for a second, watching the realization dawning in his eyes. He tries to backtrack, seizing my hand and apologizing, but I pull away. “No,” I say firmly. “If the only way you know to avoid hurting me is to lie, then you’re not trying to avoid hurting me at all. You’re trying to avoid being caught.”

Chaz protests, but I can’t stay another moment. I know I’ll cry if I do, and I’m not going to cry in the middle of the Founders Ball and become the object of anyone’s pity, or worse, the subject of gossip for the Garden Club’s next meeting. I jump to my feet, grab the silky skirt of my floor length gown and hike it up far enough for me to walk away as quickly as I can in my heels. I hear Chaz calling after me, but that only makes me hurry out of the ballroom faster. I punch the button to the elevator, glancing back over my shoulder to make sure he’s not following me. When I see the empty hallway, I can’t stop the tears.

He didn’t follow me.

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