Page 5 of House of Hearts
“And the girl who likes him despite his grammatical tyranny is Amber Yamada.” She nods toward the girl sitting beside him. Her dark hair is gelled into a twist bun, and her skin is glowing beneath an embroidered Miu Miu dress.
Before I can say hello to either of them, Birdie’s gaze shoots down to the papers splayed on the ground. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?”
“It’s not a hit list,” Amber says, involuntarily incriminating herself. She points down at what most definitely looks like a hit list. That or a satanic ritual. It’s complete with a pentagram of ripped-out yearbook pages,Hart Academyin the middle. Red ink bleeds onto the page beneath her, and she scratches a circle over her next target. “It’s a hit-onlist for you, Bird. Because you’re painfully single and it’s depressing to all of us.”
Birdie’s face beats a hot, telling red. “God, it must be hard being so delusional, but you make it look easy.”
“I’m serious!” Amber squawks. “It’s not a joke.”
“For starters, I’m not ‘painfully single,’ ” Birdie returns, peppering the last two words with air quotes. “Secondly, shouldn’t you be focused on your article about move-in day? I’m over here snapping photos at the welcome ceremony, and you’re drafting the next season ofThe Bachelorette. And thirdly, most importantly here, can either of you at least attempt to say hi to my new roommate?”
I shimmy in place. “No one needs to say hi to me. It’s fine.”
“No, it’snot fine. Amber, quit meddling and say hello. Oliver, pretend to care…and for the love of God, don’t try to indoctrinate her into your anti–em dash agenda.”
He swivels to me instantly. “Em dashes should be used sparingly, if at all, or you risk muddying the clarity of your article and minimizing the overall impact.”
“I’llminimizeyourimpact.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.” He rolls his eyes at Birdie, but I don’t miss the playful smirk lifting his cheeks. They jab at each other, but it’s obvious that this trio is stitched together by some tender thread, and it almost hurts to stand here, thinking of my own friendship unraveled.
“Oh, hi, Violet.” Amber’s voice rips me out of my own mind by the scruff. “From the ten seconds you’ve known Birdie, do you agree she’s hopelessly single?”
I don’t know what to say to that, but it turns out I don’t have to because Amber thrusts a yearbook page into my hands to read. I squint at the rows of faces. Last year’s date is printed across the page, but that’s not what ages this. There’s a face circled, but I’m distracted by the girl I see in the corner. It’s Emoree’s photo, all five billion of her freckles and the gap-toothed grin she used to press her tongue to when she was lost in thought. The starlight of her eyes when she smiled, radiant and alive to the world.
My gaze cuts briefly to the clock tower looming ahead. I shudder at the hour hand, the diligent beat of time that stops for no one.
I’m suddenly conscious of Birdie peering over my shoulder at the page. “I’m sorry, is that Calvin Lockwell you circled?”
I’m used to his social-media smiles, the smug gleam in his eyes, and the lipstick stains on the collar. This Calvin isn’tchampagne-sprayed. He stares soberly at the camera, his expression more in line with a kenneled dog.
Amber shakes her head and points at the little scribble she made on the page. “Christ, no, sorry, that was a mistake. I’d never dream of setting someone up with Calvin. Total heartbreaker.” She taps the face beside him. “Sadie, on the other hand…”
I didn’t think anyone on this earth could make Birdie speechless, but I guess I was wrong. It takes her a solid ten seconds to regain her voice, and when she does, she’s bright crimson.
“Not so loud!” She swivels around to make sure no one is listening, as if she suspects someone paddling across the lake might run and tell Sadie that Birdie has a big, fat, embarrassing crush on her.
“Seconded,” Oliver groans, waving his notebook in the air at the three of us. “Some of us actually want to work here.”
“School hasn’t even started. The school paper can wait. Relax a little, Olly.” Amber blows him a kiss, and he grumpily accepts it. “I’m only trying to help you out. I know you’ve liked her for ages. Plus, maybe if you two date, she’ll help get you into the Cards.” She cuts a scathing look at her boyfriend. “Lord knows Oliver’s no help with that. He won’t tell me anything.”
The Cards, huh? Those words bring up memories of late-night calls with Em. I guess that beats calling it “Percy’s Illuminati Club.” I have to bite my tongue to keep from blurting out anything too obvious, but I immediately straighten my spine and direct my full attention to the conversation. “What are the Cards?”
“Well,” Amber taunts, her grin positively Cheshire, “why don’t you tell her?”
“You know I’m not supposed to talk about it,” Oliver retorts, doinghis best to sound nonchalant but failing horribly as his voice notches up an octave. “I take my vows seriously. Isn’t that an admirable trait in a partner?”
“Not when it comes to keeping secrets fromme,” Amber huffs, blowing her cheeks out like a puffer fish.
He deflates her pout with a poke to the face. “Need I remind you that you’re a gossip columnist?”
“A gossip columnist that youlove,” she amends quickly.
Oliver’s ears flush pink. “I’m not debating that, but—I say this with all the love in the world—you can’t keep a secret. I already know my birthday and Christmas gifts, and it’s only September, so no, my lips are sealed. Sorry.”
She groans but eventually tips her head back in defeat.
“It’s a…student organization here at Hart,” Birdie fills me in. “They have a private clubhouse and all sorts of special privileges, but since no one knows what it is that they do, well…you know how it is. Shroud anything in enough secrecy and it will take on a life of its own. Everyone has a theory. Everyone wants in.”
