Page 49 of Switching Graves

“I know that’s not your real excuse. With all that training you’ve been in, you can kick any guy’s ass who tries to come near you.”

She’s right. I had a hyperfixation with Krav Maga several years ago and learned every move necessary to thwart an attack. Even in heels.

“That’s not the point,” I dismiss.

I’m not sure what my point is, really. I just don’t have a good feeling about going, but I know no one will accept that as an excuse.

“I’m sure that’s not what was intended when they wrote that. He might never find you if you’re good enough at hiding.”

Someone starts to yell in the background, but it’s quickly cut off by Poppy slamming her door shut.

“So, you want me to go to this ball and hide in the shadows the whole time?” I ask, pushing away the need to pry and ask her what’s going on there.

Whereverthereis. She’s been pointedly vague about her whereabouts since the first week she landed in Costa Rica and her group left their first philanthropic stop.

Poppy’s sigh makes a weird, popping noise in the speaker. “Look, I know it’s always your first instinct to buck against whatever everyone else finds cool. But you didn’t go all the way to Ravenshurst just to live life the way you were before. You wanted adventure, and this sounds like an amazing,safefirst step.”

Twisting my lips to the side, I stare at a spot on the wall and consider her words. I don’t understand why everyone sees this as such a great opportunity for me when I feel nothing but dread about it. She’s right, though. I fight against the current, regardless of how it may benefit me to go with the flow every once in a while.

“I’ll consider it,” I relent.

“You’ll go because it’ll be a good time and because it’s what I would do. If you’re pretending to be me, you have to do a better job at it, bitch. Krav Maga or not, I’ll still kick your ass if you get yourself kicked out of there before you can graduate.”

Her tone is light but firm and we both chuckle at her ridiculous threat. She’s right. Poppy loves this kind of thing. If Divina realized she was invited, it would be obvious something was wrong if she didn’t go.

Once our breathing is settled and silence fills the line again, I risk asking, “Is everything okay there?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she quips, a little too quickly.

“I was just wondering because of the yelling and?—”

“I told you, it’s fine,” Poppy’s sharp voice cuts in. “Just too much testosterone in one small space.”

“Okay,” I softly say, if only to ease the tension that’s building.

I hate that I’m backing down so easily when there’s clearly something wrong, but she’s bever spoken to me like that. I’m afraid that if I push the subject, I’ll push her away altogether.

“I’ve got to take a shower and head to bed. We have a long day ahead of us,” she explains, her tone still icy.

Nodding at the phone, I bite my lip. “It’s hard work, saving the rainforest,” I joke, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Sure is. G'night, Sonny.”

She almost hangs up before I rush out, “Til the world burns.”

“And even then,” she whispers, then the line goes blank.

27

Sonny

Beatrix, Ava, and Jonah spend the next week spamming our group chat with images and inspiration for my gown. We’ve decided to go into Nocturne Valley this weekend—using up my one pass for the semester—to go dress shopping in the only tiny boutique they have.

News has gotten out that invitations for the Falconry were extended, and Beatrix wasn’t exaggerating when she said only a select few are given the chance to go. Most of the people who received invitations were seniors, with a few juniors sprinkled in. Every single one has been flaunting their newly inflated status, boasting about it to everyone who mentions the event.

If it weren’t for Ava and Beatrix talking about it constantly, I wouldn’t have told a single person about my invite. It feels insincere to brandish in everyone’s faces when they’re already dealing with the disappointment of not being chosen, and my hesitation to even go makes it all feel so disingenuous.

None of us can figure out who sent the box. It’s the most nerve-racking part of this whole thing. Not only am I expectedto attend this event alone, I’m supposed to agree to behuntedby some stranger. I’m not sure if everyone else has been desensitized to it, or if I’m just being dramatic, but it feels off either way.

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