Page 22 of You Were Mine

“How does Brandon look?”...

“Is he wearing a tie?”...

“I bet it’s a clip-on.”

DearGAWD. I shake my head even though I’m not all that irritated as much as I let on. It’s not strange for Logan to send streams and streams of texts. I let go of Brandon’s hand when we get to a spot where he’s looking around the large room.

“Fine”…

“I know”…

“Nice”…

“No, it’s not a clip-on.,”I type a quick reply.

Without complaint, I follow Brandon as he weaves his way between women in expensive gowns and bedecked in jewelry that I have no doubt features real, quarter-sized diamonds and men in well-tailored tuxedos. Oh, I’m not out of placeatallin my sorry ass blue suit. The only missing accessory is a polka-dot tie! What the hell was I thinking?

He leads me to a tall, well-built man with brown hair and dark eyes. Amidst this sea of black tuxedos, he has chosen to wear a black leather jacket over a red button down. Should I applaud him for not dressing like everyone else? I hold out my hand to shake even though my palms are starting to sweat. I am just not made for this sort of environment.

“Drake!” Brandon greets. “Drake Elwood, this is Mark Delacroix.”

Elwood; I recognize that name. There’s a building on campus with that name. Which is it? Business, maybe?

“Hello,” I say.

“Hey,” Drake replies.

His handshake is firm and polite; I get the feeling he shakes hands alotand wonder if he notices my awkwardness in returning the gesture.

“Mark, Drake and I go way back. His family owns the island next to my family’s.”

Gawd! These people ownislands. Why is it terrifying to find out that they do? Logan’s family has an island, somehowthat isn’t terrifying. Maybe it’s because Logan doesn’t go around bragging so flippantly about his wealth and his island. Obviously, Logan always has nice things, but he doesn’t just…bring up his money.

“The bigger one,” Drake says. “No offense. Yours is…quaint, Brandon.”

Brandon rolls his eyes. “Hilarious. Mark, here, is an artist. He’s finishing up his M.F.A. at Bluehaven.”

“Oh,” Drake says, absolutely deadpan. “Interesting.” Meaning it wasn’t.

This isn’t the first time I’ve bored someone, but it’s probably my fastest time to touchdown. Ouch.

“My parents invested a lot of money in Bluehaven,” Drake says.

That explains it. So, itisthe same family.

“Right. There’s a building named after you,” I say.

Because really, how do you respond to, “My family puts lots of money into your college?”

“There is,” Drake replies, looking like he doesn’t care about that either, “And there should be, considering how much money my family donated. Millions to get our name on that building.”

God, he says it like it’s such a travesty. How dare Bluehaven College have the audacity to make his family pay that much to have their name on a building? And maybe he doesn’t mean it, but he makes it sound like it’s the building’s name that’s important. Not the school of business or arts or whatever his family’s name is plastered on.

“That’s nice,” I say, forcing a smile.

Because what on Earth do I say to that?

Drake smirks. “Nice, you say. Well.”

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