Page 59 of The Art of Us

“Worry about what?” Emily asked, thinking Mara had to be talking to her. Because why would Mara be talking to Ireland?

“We shouldn’t have to worry about anything, right?” Mara said.

Cooper started up a new song, d4vd’s “Don’t Forget About Me,” and everyone joined in—even Ireland, because she was there for Mara and Mara wanted to sing.

Though she found she was actually enjoying singing along with everyone in the fire’s glow while clams popped and sizzled next to them, Ireland kept glancing in Rowan’s direction. Did a troll like Rowan join the sing-along like he was a normal person? It turned out that he didn’t join in, not exactly. His mock-sing grated on Ireland’s nerves as he made his voice louder and more obnoxious than everyone else’s.

Ireland thought that maybe she was imagining things, but it seemed like Rowan was keeping an eye on her the same way she was keeping an eye on him. No. Not the same way. His eye was trailing over her in a way that made Ireland’s skin crawl like biting into tinfoil-covered spiders. She was about to ask Mara if the point had been made well enough that they could leave, but her phone rang. Panicked, she looked down at the number calling, afraid it was her dad again. When she saw Kal’s name and number, she leaped to her feet to move away from the crowd so she didn’t disrupt anyone while she took his call.

“Kal, hi!” she said, plugging her other ear so she could hear him better.

“Hey. I was wondering if I could come by tonight. Wait. Where are you?” he asked, obviously hearing the background noise.

“Mara invited me to a clambake with her and her friends.”

“Sounds like Cooper singing.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“So it’sallof Mara’s friends.”

“A lot of them. Yeah.”

He went silent for the space of three breaths. “He’s there, isn’t he?”

It was Ireland’s turn to go silent for the space of three breaths. “Yes.”

“You need to get out of there. Seriously. You guys aren’t safe there. He is not safe to be around. You are not safe being around him. The creepy innuendos he makes about you ... Leave. Ireland, leave. Please. If Mara won’t go, then ask Cooper. He’ll drive you home.”

“I’m not leaving Mara. Kal, how can you even ask me to do that?”

“No. You’re right. Of course not. You can’t leave her. I’m sorry. I’m just really freaked out for you. I’m getting my keys right now. I’ll be right there.”

“We’re in a crowd. We’ll be fine.” She realized at that moment that she’d wandered away from the group’s fire enough that she was in shadow—definitely not in a crowd. “Kal, I ... don’t come. I’m fine.”

“It’s not a problem for me. It won’t take me long.”

“You showing up would just be more drama at this point. We aren’t alone here, so we’re fine. I gotta go though. I’ll see you tomorrow at Geppetto’s okay?”

“Okay.” He didn’t sound happy, but he didn’t argue about the fact that she needed to hang up, which she needed to do sooner than later. She’d caught his paranoia, and it was seriously dark and anyone could drag her off and no one at the fires would notice.

“Before you go, if you could, please just text me to let me know you got home safely.”

She agreed that she would and then hung up.

When she turned to head back to the fires, she had to pass Rowan and Tinsley. The stress she felt made Ireland fumble and drop her phone right in front of Rowan. She hurriedly bent down to pick it up so she get back to Mara. Rowan made a low whistle.“I am loving that view,” he said. Ireland realized her V-neck shirt had hung down low enough to be revealing.

Her cheeks flamed hot with humiliation, fear, and anger. She wrapped her sweater tightly over her front. “Do not ever talk to me or about me again, you sick troll,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Oh please,” Tinsley, who had obviously been drinking, said. “You can’t think he’s serious. Not about you. You’d give him fleas.” She laughed, nearly falling off her chair.

Mara was on her feet and moving toward Ireland at the same time Ireland was trying to move away from Tinsley’s laugh and Rowan’s leer.

“What’s going on?” Mara asked, her expression wild with worry.

“He just ... He said ...” Ireland didn’t know why, but tears formed in her eyes. She could not cry. Not here. Not in front of these elitist brats who didn’t care about anyone else. Why was she crying? Why could she not keep it together for a little longer?

Maybe it was everything Mara had been going through, and she was projecting herself into Mara’s situation.

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