Page 16 of Promise Me Nothing
“No it’s not,” Lucas says, shaking his head and pursing his lips. “She likes knowing what’s going on, but she isn’t…” He pauses. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Top of the Pyramid. Who is Lennon’s bestie? Me. I know what matters to her. You don’t.”
Lucas scoffs but doesn’t add anything else, opting instead to pick up his drink and take a hefty swallow.
Paige leans forward, looking closely at me, her eyes beaming.
“Lennon finding out about you basically means that everyone we know now knows you’re here and they’re all trying to get as much information as possible.”
A bit of fear slices through my body, and I chuckle uncomfortably. I don’t want people knowing about me. Knowing my past and my pain and the secrets that still boil beneath my skin.
“Paige, you’re scaring her,” Lucas says. “Leave the special agent shit at the door, okay?”
“I’m not trying to scare you. Promise,” she says, lifting her hand daintily in the air to flag down the waitress. “But if you’re going to be living with Lucas this summer, I just feel it’s fair for you to know the truth.”
There’s a pause. Lucas lets out an irritated sigh. Paige sits quietly and watches me. And I feel like she’s waiting. Like she wants me to be curious enough to ask her what she’s talking about.
And even though I don’t want to be the one who gives in to that type of gossip mentality, I feel like I need to know.
Because secrets destroy.
“What truth?” I finally ask, glancing between them.
Paige smirks. “Your brother is as close to beach royalty as it gets, honey. The people here always want to know what’s going on with him. And as his sister – a sister nobody knew about – people are going to want information about you, too. So… get ready for a wild summer.”
Lucas shakes his head, his expression pinched, but doesn’t add anything.
Before I can ask any questions, the waitress shows up and takes a drink order from Paige. I decline, tapping my vodka soda to indicate I’m still good with my own.
“What does that mean?” I ask once the waitress has taken off to the bar. “That he’s beach royalty?”
“It means that everyone cares about what’s happening with Lucas Pearson. Where is he partying? Who is he sleeping with? Is he out surfing? Can he get me in to this club?” Paige rolls her eyes, then sits back in her chair, giving Lucas a look I don’t quite understand but rings loudly of frustration. “It really is incredibly irritating.”
“She’s making it sound more intense than it is,” Lucas pipes in. “Really. No one cares about me.”
“Bullshit!” Paige cries. “I’ve had two people text me about your sister since I found out about her thirty minutes ago. And that’safterthe handful that checked in to see if you were having another party soon.”
Lucas’ eyes lock with mine at the mention of partying, and I see a little bit of a smirk.
“I knew you had a party house,” I say, though I make sure to keep a smile in my words. “That place is too amazing not to show it off all the time.”
“Oh yeah, parties at Lucas’ house are like, infamous. Every weekend. The only reason he doesn’t get shut down by the cops is because his neighbors want to be invited to join in on the fun.”
My stomach tilts slightly. I’ve lived in a party house before. Maybe not one as fancy as Lucas’, but I know what it’s like to have people coming and going at all hours. Loud music, drugs, wishing I could lock my bedroom door.
I push that brief thought aside. Things are different now. I’m an adult. I can leave if I’m uncomfortable. I can’t dwell only on the negative, shitty things from the past, or I’ll never be able to move forward.
Lucas shakes his head, glaring at Paige. “Thanks for giving it all away, P. I was trying to make myself sound like an upstanding citizen.”
Paige scoffs and takes her drink from the returning waitress, lifting it to her lips and mumbling, “Like anyone would ever believe that.”
“Not to be rude,” I say, looking to Lucas, “but why does anyone care what you do with your time?” My question seems stupid. Clearly there’s something about him that people want to understand, be near, know. But to me, he’s just a random guy I happen to be related to who has a nice house. Surely that can’t be the reason.
Paige and Lucas glance at each other, and I get the feeling they’re doing some sort of communicating thing that I don’t understand.
“You’re starting to freak me out,” I say.
Paige violently shakes her head, bends forward and places her hand over mine on the table where I am nervously drumming my fingers. “No, there’s nothing to freak out about,” she says. “Lucas is just… kind of… well known?”
