Page 162 of Secrets That We Keep (Forbidden Descendants 2)

And I plopped down right there on the floor to rest my back against her door. I’d just pulled my phone out to keep myself company when Fox stuck his head out of his own room down the hall.

“No luck, huh?”

“What’s it look like to you?” I muttered, scowling irritably at him.

He merely grinned and shrugged. “Wanna play cards while you wait?”

I sighed because, no, I didn’t want to play cards. I wanted to see Bentley. But I said, “Sure.”

Bentley’s brother disappeared into his room before coming back with a deck of playing cards.

We played War, Go Fish, Rummy, Kings in the Corner, Black Jack, and Hearts.

About an hour into the marathon, Fox got a text on his phone.

After reading it, he smirked, lifted his face, and yelled, “Yes, he’s still here. Right outside your door.”

A second later, he got another text that made him laugh. “She called me an ass.”

I shrugged. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

Another hour later, Knox appeared in the opening of the hall. “Beau, kiddo. You need to go home now. You can’t stay here all night waiting for her to change her mind.”

“But he’s here to play cards with me,” Fox tried to argue on my behalf.

“No, he’s not,” his father said before he focused on me and regretfully added, “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Go home.”

I blew out a heavy breath, then lowered my face and nodded. The gift was still sitting next to me. When I glanced at it, I felt like bawling.

“You got a piece of paper and something I could write with?” I asked Fox.

Nodding immediately, he scooped up his cards and darted into his room to return with the supplies I’d requested.

I had no idea what to say to her. I kind of wanted to be mad at her for blowing me off like this, but then, I knew I deserved it.

So I simply wrote: I’m sorry.

And I tucked the note into the bag with her present before I went home.

The next morning at school, I slowed when I approached my locker to see something that looked like shredded rags hanging from the door.

“What the…?” I slowed in front of it, lifting one of the tattered strips of cloth to frown at it in confusion before I realized what it was. The apology gift I’d left in front of Bentley’s door in the sack—a new blouse to replace the one I’d ruined with the dog turd—had been cut and ripped into about a dozen pieces.

As the sections of shirt dripped over my trembling fingers, I shook my head in disbelief.

She didn’t forgive me. She was honestly going to hold this prank against me forever, wasn’t she?

“Hey, Beau. You okay?” a familiar voice asked.

I looked up to find Bella, who’d been walking by with a stack of books, pause and tip me a curious and concerned look. “You look as white as a ghost.” Then her gaze dropped to what I was still holding. “What is that?”

“Nothing,” I murmured, “it’s nothing.” Then I brushed past her, storming in the direction of Bentley’s locker. “Excuse me.”

I wanted to be pissed. I mean, I was pissed. This was just mean.

But a place inside me snickered, And you’ve never been mean to her? Worse to her?

I had been, of course. I didn’t deserve her forgiveness. I wasn’t worthy of it. But I wanted it, anyway.

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