Page 25 of Stalked
“Shut up, squirt,” I mutter to Knox.
“Keep it civil,” Xavier warns, adjusting his tie. At twenty, he looks more like our father than our brother in his pressed shirt and polished shoes. Always the perfect guardian. “Today is important.”
“It's just high school,” I say, still scanning the crowd.
“It's more than we thought you'd manage,” Xavier replies, his voice low so only I can hear. “So stop scowling and try to look like you give a damn.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I nearly drop it pulling it out, hoping it's her, but it's just a group text from some classmates about the after-party.
“She's over there,” Landon says quietly, nodding toward the far side of the gymnasium.
I follow his gaze, and there she is—Lia, surrounded by her friends, laughing like she doesn't have a care in the world. As if she hadn't texted me asking me not to contact her again after the best night of my life.
“That's her?” Xavier asks.
“Drop it,” I warn him.
“I like her hair,” Knox pipes up. “It's pretty like her.”
I feel a surge of possessiveness. “Yeah, well, she doesn't want anything to do with me, so it doesn't matter.”
The principal calls for students to line up.
The principal drones on aboutbright futuresandthe leaders of tomorrowwhile I sit two rows behind Lia, staring at the back of her head. She hasn't turned around once. Not even when Davis Thompson tripped going up the stairs and nearly face-planted in front of the superintendent.
When they call her name, I watch her walk across the stage with perfect posture and that confident smile she always wears in public. Several people cheer—her parents loudest of all.
“Vane Blackwood,” the principal announces minutes later.
I cross the stage, take my diploma, and search for her face among the graduates. She's suddenly very interested in the program in her hands. The rejection burns in my chest.
After the ceremony ends and mortarboards litter the air, I push through the crowd toward her. She spots me comingand whispers something to Megan, who immediately pulls her toward a cluster of parents.
“Lia!” I call out. She pretends not to hear me over the noise.
I follow her outside, where families are taking photos. Xavier catches my arm.
“Let's get our pictures done,” he says firmly.
“In a minute.”
“Now, Vane.”
I shrug him off, spotting Lia near the fountain. She's with her parents, but her eyes keep darting around—looking for escape routes in case I approach. When she sees me coming, she practically drags her parents toward their car.
“Congratulations, Vane,” her father calls out, clearly confused by his daughter's behavior. I force a smile and wave back.
Before I can reach her, she's sliding into the backseat of her parents' SUV. Our eyes meet through the window for just a second—long enough for me to see something like panic flash across her face before she looks away.
The car pulls out of the parking lot, and I stand there like an idiot, diploma in hand, watching her leave.
“You coming?” Knox tugs at my gown
“Yeah,” I mutter, my jaw clenched tight. “I'm coming.”
Xavier throws his arm around my shoulder as we walk back toward the crowd. “That's the girl who's been ignoring you?”
Knox tugs at my gown again. “Why won't she talk to you? Did you do something mean?”
