Page 177 of Forbidden Lessons

Yeah, Kruger, don’t I know it.

I slide a finger behind my collar, trying to pull it away from my neck.

I’m not into all this fancy shit.

I like nice clothes, because anything’s better than the patched, threadbare hand-me-downs I got most of my time growing up. But this tux is a fucking nightmare.

And places like this country club don’t get me hard.

It’s the wallpaper.

You couldn’t pay me to walk through this place on acid. If they put this stuff on dollar bills, counterfeiters will be fuming.

Maybe that’s why they have it. It reminds them of money.

It’s the same shade of green.

Luckily there are so many people jammed into this ballroom, it’s hard to see the walls. But it’s unavoidable on the way to the restroom, and I’m going to need to go soon after all this champagne.

The music sucks. Who still listens to Chopin?

“Hey, man. Your brother’s looking for you.”

I turn to Austin, sipping at my champagne glass. Don’t like this bubbly shit either, but some alcohol is better than none alcohol.

“Tell him you couldn’t find me.”

“It’s about the party.”

“Fuck.” I drain the awful champagne and hand Austin the glass. “Where is he?”

“Out front by the donation boxes.”

Damn. That’s a lot of wallpaper to walk past.

But I grit my teeth and I bear it, because the only reason I’m here isbecauseof the party, and if it’s gone belly up, then I’m out of here.

Not that I really want to go back to my dorm room, either.

Since last night, I’ve been staring at Haven’s Activity Log, trying to get myself to open it. I keep moving it around, wishing in some weird way that I’d drop it and it would just flip open to a page, and I’d be forced to read it.

Which is pathetic, because of course I want to read it.

That’s the whole reason I took it.

But as soon as I brought it into my room and set it down on the corner of my bed, I just stared at it.

Because it’s Pandora’s Box.

Once I read what’s in there, there’s no forgetting what it says.

I’m in there.

But I don’t know how bad it is. If she named me. If she went into detail.

So maybe I didn’t take it to read it, but to make sure it never got to Rooke. I’d be expelled, my future torn out of my hands before I even got a chance to hold it.

I press my finger and thumb to my eyelids, massaging them. Shouldn’t have smoked all that weed before I got here. Should have remembered to put some eyedrops in my pocket.

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