Page 87 of The Lies We Steal

Using little force she removes my hand from her chest, swatting me away,“Just tired of your bullshit and ready to get this over with.”

A shame that even when she was done with this favor, I still wouldn’t be finished with her.

I hold my elbow out, motioning for her to take it, “Then let’s get it over with.” I say coldly.

Together we walk into the entrance of the ball. As I suspected, the lights from the crystal chandlers glint with a soft glow. Candles illuminate the windows in threes, and everything looks like it was purchased at a 16thcentury Renaissance fair. The students and teachers all wearing similar masks, dancing, chatting, the normal social cues that happen at these kinds of events.

That is until we happen to be noticed by bystanders, both Thatcher and I arm and arm with girls, dressed for an event no one expected us to show up for. I can’t help the smirk that sits on my face, most of them are probably afraid we’d done something. Pulled some prank that we wanted a front row seat to.

Briar’s hand clutches onto the material of my suit as I guide her towards an empty table, away from dancing bodies in the center of the room. Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake track swarms the room and I only know that because it’s constantly played in my house when my father is home.

It was the only thing he knew how to play and somehow he felt it made him more polished when he showed guests.

“Why are they staring at you? It’s like you’re the pope for Christ’s sake.” She breathes, trying to keep her head down and away from prying eyes. Shying away from the attention she would never be getting if she hadn’t walked into this room with me.

Eyes from every direction stay glued to us and I just know Thatcher is adoring every second of this. The way everyone has paused their evening to give us their undivided attention.

I lean towards her ear, brushing the top with my lips, “Because we are everything they wish they were, Little Thief.”

Taking me by surprise, she snorts, laughing softly, “Just when I think you can’t get any more stuck up.”

“I’m not saying it’s because of my parents’ money.” I reassure, “We refuse to abide by the rules Ponderosa Springs laid out for us as children. When they look at us, they see the freedom, the rebellion they will never have. Girls look at you and wonder,” My breath is heavy on her skin, I can tell by the way her breathing shallows.

“What does she have that could possibly have grabbed my attention? How can I be more like her? We are crack to rich girls. Because at night when they lay down with their polo wearing boyfriends, the ones that will buy them mansions and cheat on them with their secretaries, it’s guys like me they think about.” My arm snakes around her waist, letting the soft fabric of her dress itch my palm,

“Gritty, terrifying, shady men like me who make their panties wet. They come harder thinking about me breaking their hearts, then they do while their boyfriends are fucking them. So yes, they are looking at me, but they are also staring at you.” I knead her hip, pulling her into my body more just so I don’t lose the smell of her,“Make sure you are giving them a show they’ll remember.”

All of that is true.

The girls around us who would be more than willing, but all of them too scared to admit it to themselves. Too afraid their daddies and priests will find out they like to be fucked by the bastards of this town.

That’s what we spend the first hour of our time doing, watching our peers spin around us like puppets, casting their stones in our direction as we sit at the table keeping to ourselves.

Well that’s what Briar and I do.

Thatcher asked Lyra to dance fifteen minutes ago and he’s spinning her in circles on the marble floor, her brown hair swaying behind her as she tries to keep up with him. Briar was watching them like a hawk, her eyes moving with Thatcher’s hands like she’s ready to cut them off if they make the wrong move.

They looked like mismatched socks out there.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, just in time to see a message show up from Silas giving me the all clear for the next few hours. They were headed down to the party to help Thatch and Lyra keep an eye out in case Mr. West left the party for any reason. That way they could text us to head out before he came in his office.

This plan was fail proof.

Hopefully.

“Show time, Little T.” I mumbled to her as we snuck ourselves out of the main hall and towards the exit. We stopped by Thatcher’s car grabbing the stethoscope she requested before embarking on the short walk to the adjacent building where his office was, the wind blowing her hair just as we walked. I wasn’t sure if her shivering was from the cold or if she was just nervous.

The dark surrounded us, the little light from the moon beyond the windows was what helped guide our feet up the center staircase. Shadows of trees reach out for our walking bodies as we crept down the halls. Our feet in step with one another the entire way.

We finally make it to the door so I reach inside of my pocket to pull out the tool Rook had given me to help me unlock it, but Briar had already pulled out bobby pins. Gliding the metal past her plump lips, using her teeth to bend them the way she needs them to go.

With finesse she makes quick work of the lock, lifting and pushing all the correct pins inside to make the door click letting us know it’s open.

Once we are inside I chose to leave the light off in case anyone is to look up to the windows I didn’t need them seeing a glow coming from Mr. West’s office when he was supposed to be at the party.

“Grab me a pen and some paper.” She says, after I show her the safe behind the curtain.

“Is please not a part of your vocabulary?” I walk to his mahogany desk, opening the drawers until I find a pad of paper and a pen.

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