Page 52 of Forget Me Twice

And with that, I shove away from her and flee the scene of my crime—unlocking and out the door before she can ask me what the fuck I meant.

I’m too raw, too caught up in the memory of her mouth and the knowledge that I might finally have her back.

My gaze locks with Baker’s as I step outside. He’s talking to the two Ace lookouts and my gut sours at the sight of the prick.

Then I feel her spilling out of the bathroom behind me and I watch as he sees the state of her hair and makeup and puts two and two together. The way the shock on his face morphs into an expression that’s midnight black is fucking glorious and I answer it with the smuggest smile I can muster.

I look back at her, witnessing pleasure warring with the realization her date just saw her stumble out of the bathroom with another guy. I’m surprised not to see any guilt on her face, only a look that says the last thing she wants right now is guy drama.

Good. It means she doesn’t have any feelings for him. So long as it stays that way. And maybe seeing Baker with the two men means she won’t want to get involved with the Aces either.

I lean in once more. “Ours. Don’t forget it.”

Then I’m cutting through the crowd towards the entrance, clamoring to find a moment and rebuild the walls she managed to destroy in the span of time it took for her to swallow my dick.

The atmospherewhen I return to the Guardhouse on Saturday feels significantly more charged after my encounter with the Head Prefect.

After Hotty McFuckface left me standing outside that bathroom—looking directly at a livid Leo and rocking my freshly face-fucked hair and raccoon eyes—I had decided to just call it a night and ordered an Uber back to the Academy.

Ours.

He said it like he had a right to tell me who I could and couldn’t be with. Like he already had some claim to me.

Not just a claim. Apriorclaim.

I don’t enjoy the way that makes my chest feel. Like something is trying to move in and fill the empty space there.

I shove that reflex down and file the whole incident away to live amongst all the other Rox Boy mysteries I’ve yet to unravel.

Tonight, there’s a mixture of Clubs and Diamonds on necks—and even a couple of Hearts. I watch them all as I slowly circle the first level’s dance floor. Their faces are hard, eyes moving constantly over the crowd. I suppose their idea of a good time doesn’t usually include chaperoning for a bunch of spoiled seniors and their back-to-school rager.

Mercifully, I’ve yet to bump into the linebacker. Last night was like getting busted by a one-night stand, shoes in hand, trying to sneak out because you thought they were busy in the bathroom. Only I was the one busy in the bathroom.

With his most hated social rival.

Who really wants to be forced to sit throughthatkind of awkwardness?

On my third lap, and after documenting all the faces I can make out against the pulsing lights and smoke, I start to notice two things. A significant portion of the upper echelon of students are missing from the enthusiastic throng before me—including the Rox Boys—and whenever a member of the football team passes by, the MC guards all give a small dip of their chins in acknowledgement.

The bro nods are a tad disconcerting, because I don’t see them affording the same respect to the basketballers, and now I’m not as certain that it’s a star player thing. I file it away.

Catching a flash of Sloane’s red hair reminds me that although I have yet to find an Achilles heel for either of my main groups of targets, I do still have a clear and exploitable weakness for at leastonesignificant Family gunning for the Crown.

I groan and absently rub at the scar on my temple. My head is starting to ache just thinking about the politics of it and I already took the last of my stash earlier.

After I got back to the dorms after bailing last night, I realized belatedly that I didn’t end up visiting Slash. So Ireallyhope I can find someone to buy from as I work tonight, otherwise I’m going to be forced to make best friends with the hot bartender over there.

Deciding to follow the cheerleader’s lead, I weave my way to the stairs and head up to the second floor. I’m assuming this is where some of my missing classmates will be.

As soon as my feet hit the landing, I do a perfunctory sweep of what I can see of the layout from here. There’s a dance floor but it’s much smaller. The majority of the space is taken up by a haphazard cluster of mismatched couches and lowline tables. Another long bar takes up most of the back wall.

To my left I spot someone that my lips turn up. Maybe I can checkReplenishing My Suppliesoff the to-do list after all.

Standing with two of his buddies near the rail that overlooks the first floor, isAxel Nathaniel King, 18. Despite being the son of one of Rox Academy’s tenured teaching staff members, it is common knowledge that Axel isalwaysholding.

I try not to get ahead of myself, but since it’s the first big party of the year, I’m cautiously optimistic that he’s brought some decent stuff with him.

I saunter over, plastering what I hope is a friendly smile on my face. I’m wearing my cropped leather jacket again, but this time it’s over a plunging blood red halter with matching skater skirt. My Louboutins are still pushing six inches but I wanted a bit more movement in my clothing tonight, just in case I need to go into stealth mode.

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