Page 2 of The Chase

“Yes,” Kaya says.

I glance at the others. “Hailey?”

“Halley,” she corrects icily.

Oh, whatever. Like I’m supposed to remember their names? We literally just met. “Halley.” I look to the next girl. “Coral.” And then the next girl. Crap. I legit don’t know this one. “Laura?”

“Tawny,” she bites out.

Swing and a miss! “Tawny,” I repeat apologetically. “You guys are sure about this?”

I get three nods.

“Cool. Thanks for wasting my time.” I stand up, push my hair over one shoulder, and start wrapping my red cashmere scarf around my neck. A bit too vigorously maybe, because it seems to annoy Kaya.

“Stop being so dramatic,” she orders in a snarky voice. “And don’t act likewe’reto blame for the fact that you burned down your former house. Excuse us if we don’t want to live with anarsonist.”

I struggle to keep my temper in check. “I didn’t burn anything down.”

“That’s not what our Brown sisters said.” She tightens her lips. “Anyway, we have a house meeting in ten minutes. It’s time for you to go.”

“Another meeting? Look at you! A packed schedule today!”

“We’re organizing a New Year’s Eve charity event tonight to raise money,” Kaya says stiffly.

Ah, my bad. “What’s the charity?”

“Oh.” Bianca looks sheepish. “We’re raising money to renovate the basement here in the mansion.”

Oh my God.They’rethe charity? “You better get to it, then.” With a mocking smile, I flutter my fingers in a careless wave and march out of the room.

In the hall, I feel the first sting of tears.

Fuck these girls. I don’t need them or their dumb sorority.

“Summer, wait.”

Bianca catches up to me at the front doors. I quickly paste on a smile and blink away the tears that had begun to well up. I won’t let them see me cry, and I’m so frigging glad I left all my suitcases in the car and only came in with my oversized purse. How mortifying would it have been to lug my bags back to the car? It would’ve taken multiple trips too, because I don’t travel light.

“Listen,” Bianca says, her voice so quiet I strain to hear her. “You should consider yourself lucky.”

I raise my eyebrows. “For being homeless? Sure, I feel blessed.”

She cracks a smile. “Your last name is Heyward-Di Laurentis. You are not, and will never be, homeless.”

I grin sheepishly. Can’t argue with that.

“But I’m serious,” she whispers. “You don’t want to live here.” Her almond-shaped eyes dart toward the doorway. “Kaya is like a drill sergeant. It’s her first year as Kappa president, and she’s on some crazy power trip.”

“I’ve noticed,” I say dryly.

“You should’ve seen what she did to Daphne! She acted like it was the alcohol thing, but really she was just jealous because Daph slept with her ex-boyfriend Chris, so she madeDaph’s life miserable. One weekend when Daphne was away, Kaya ‘accidentally’”—Bianca uses air quotes—“donated every piece of her clothing to these freshmen who were collecting stuff for the annual clothes drive. Daph eventually quit the sorority and moved out.”

I’m starting to think that alcohol poisoning was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to Daphne Kettleman, if it got her out of this hellhole.

“Whatever. I don’t care if I live here or not. Like you said, I’ll be just fine.” I put on the cavalier, nothing-in-life-ever-ever-gets-to-me voice that I’ve perfected over the years.

It’s my armor. I pretend that my life is a beautiful Victorian house and hope that nobody peers close enough to see the cracks in my facade.

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