Page 41 of Seren

The good thing about being blindsided by the truth was that I didn’t even care about anyone around me as I walked down the crowded hallway toward English class the following period. I wondered who knew about what happened in the treehouse. Had that been recorded like my “strip show” had been?

I noticed a huge sign over the hallway doorway:Prom Countdown. A number twelve flapped to the side of the words. Beneath it must’ve been the remaining numbers so they could be torn off to assist with the big countdown. I wondered if anyone planned to ask me to the Coopersville prom because now, more than ever, I needed to be around people I could trust.

I slipped into my seat in English class, avoiding looking to the back of the classroom. I couldn’t stomach the sight of Seren. How could someone be so deceitful? So cruel?

He entered the classroom just as the teacher stood behind her podium shuffling through papers, but instead of walking to his seat in the back of the room, he crossed in front of the teacher and walked right over to me. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” I said, not bothering to look at him.

“It wasn’t how it looked,” he explained.

I kept my eyes down. “It has nothing to do with me.”

“I pushed her away,” he explained with desperation in his voice.

I glanced up. “Good for you.”

He growled, but instead of causing more of a scene, he trudged to his seat.

“Settle in everyone,” the teacher said. “Today, I want to discuss character motivation. Mr. Darcy came to Elizabeth’s aid when she needed his help. She didn’t ask for it, nor would she have ever expected it, but he assisted in bringing dignity back to the Bennet name after Lydia’s actions with Wickham would have dishonored them all. The question is why? After everything that happened between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, what motivated him to come to her rescue?” She waited for a response from the class, but as usual, the class was silent.

“Because he cares about her,” Seren said.

Goosebumps raced up my arms at the sound of his voice. I hated my body’s reaction almost as much as I hated myself for wanting to believe he wasn’t just speaking about the book.

“He didn’t always know how to show it based on their different places in society,” Seren explained. “He was at odds with himself for falling for her in the first place. He knew it was wrong, but he just couldn’t help himself.”

If he’d actually been being truthful in the treehouse, there would’ve been an undeniable parallel between the novel and our situation. But since it had all been a lie, we were more like Mr. Wickham and Elizabeth. Destined to be enemies.

“So, you’re saying actions spoke louder than words when it came to Darcy and Elizabeth’s relationship?” the teacher asked Seren.

“I don’t know. I just know the guy had it bad for her. But, he sucked at communicating that without pissing her the hell off. He figured why not try another approach to make things right between them.”

The teacher stared in Seren’s direction for a long moment before breaking into a grin. “Good answer, Mr. Grayson.”

Itwasa good answer. Too bad it didn’t fix our situation. He’d lied. And I was too smart to fall for his lies again.

* * *

I hurried toward the kitchen, still tying the ridiculous apron around my waist as I rushed through the open door. “Oof,” I cried as I slammed into someone and fell back, landing on my ass.

“Oh, no. Let me help you,” a man with an Italian accent said as he reached for my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, realizing I’d literally run into Martine, Maureen’s husband—and Seren’s stepfather.

“You must be new,” he said. “I would’ve remembered such a pretty face.”

“I’m Grace.”

His eyes narrowed as if he was trying to figure out how he knew that name.

“Rosalie’s daughter,” I explained.

“Ah. Yes. Maureen said you moved in. I didn’t realize you were working here, too.”

“Just saving money until I leave for college.”

“This fall?” he asked.

---