It's something I didn't find in any of the research I did on Blake Lee.
Because, as his father reveals, they kept it a secret from the public.
Then Blake begins to speak, and I feel like I've fallen into a rabbit hole.
"I know that what I did that night in Seoul was wrong," he says, his voice soft but expressive, his eyes earnestly focused on Savannah and Hoda like he truly cares what they think. "I broke the law by drinking while under the legal age of nineteen in Korea. And I hurt someone, who I've since apologized to and made amends many times. That night was the night I realized that I needed to work on my issues. It made me learn how to havecontrolover myself."
Stopping the video, I rewind and replay his words.
Control over myself.
Uniform shirts tightly fastened to the top button. Slacks that look like they've never met a wrinkle or a crumb. Perfect grades. Immaculate hair. Not a single facial expression out of place—no emotions, least of all anger and rage.
The Blake Lee I've known so far has been one in complete control of himself. Repressed to the max.
But he's looser on the screen now. Less burdened by the need to keep it all in.
Now that his darkest secret is out, after all, he can be himself.
I wonder if I'll get to meet who that is.
* * *
The Rosalinds invite you to a fun-filled weekend on campus: The Traditional Ice Cream Social! Enjoy free ice cream, unlimited toppings, homemade desserts from scratch, and of course live music, all courtesy of the Rosalinds and our sisters the Lovelaces.
Saturday, 7:00 PM. Gladius Outdoor Space.
Don't forget to wear your best 1960s throwback clothes and bring your Coleridge pride.
The ice cream social was the first coed social event ever held at Coleridge Academy. Needing fresh blood, but unsure what to do about boys and girls living on campus together during hormone-filled puberty, the administration came up with a way for all the kids to meet each other, and date each other, under their watchful eyes. This way they could make sure nothing untoward was happening under anybody's skirt and prevent too much sneaking around to socialize.
Or at least, that's whattheythought. The way Holly and Chrissy talk, the ice cream social is one of the hottest hookup events of the year, second only to the Blind Ball. Kids eat ice cream, sure—and pour their favorite rum into their bowls from hidden flasks. Holly even claims her sister told her that a girl got pregnant at their ice cream social, and she didn't even know which of the two guys she'd hooked up with was the father.
So it means something that Tanner and I will be meeting up at the social—if nothing else, for the look on Georgia's face when she finds out she's lost to me.
With Holly's help, I put on my new makeup, this time using the name brand Beauty Blender and all the high-end makeup brushes. She sits me down in front of her desk and goes over every inch of my skin quadrant by quadrant like she's painting by numbers.
"This coral blush is perfect for your skin tone. You have the most marvelous cheeks—you should show them off more."
"They make me look like a chipmunk."
"They do not," she scolds. "You look fresh and youthful. Some old ass Hollywood actress is paying for fillers in her cheeks right now. Be glad you've got some now."
"Thanks, I guess."
"And theselips," she marvels as she lines them. "They're to die for. Remind me to show you my matte liquid lips some night when we're not going to be eating our own weight in dairy products."
Holly is every bit the stereotypical supportive female friend—and I love it, even though I know it can't last. She'll get pulled into Cole's little games eventually, no matter what she says, when he spills the truth about me. It doesn't seem like he ever told her I was the one who put the spiders in his locker, but I know she'll hate me if she ever finds out. So I let myself bask in this moment, briefly pretending like we could actually be friends.
"So, who are you meeting up with tonight that you want to look so good for?" She moves on to the curler, heating it up to give me big, bouncy curls that are all the rage for hair highlighted blonde like mine. "Unless you just want to show off to the world."
Biting my lip, I murmur, "I'm not sure if I should say."
"You can tell me. What else are friends for?"
Friends.Such a precious, tremulous word.
"Well." I stutter, swallow. "Tanner asked me out. He said he and Georgia are on the rocks."