Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 883(@200wpm)___ 706(@250wpm)___ 589(@300wpm)
Cloe had gone full Waiting to Exhale.
She was standing in the kitchen, sipping a chilled glass of Bellara No. 9, the kind of Moscato that costs three figures and looks like revenge in a bottle. She’d lit a candle too, so I knew it was a bad day. Fireside Seduction was flaming away on the counter, and she looked one bad comment away from having someone’s transmission torched. Naturally, I had her pour me a glass too.
Roxxi and Ari joined us in the living room, and we ended up having a pitiful version of circle time for emotionally unstable college girls who were on the verge of unhinged, expulsion-level behavior.
Cloe went first. Ranted about Lindsey ghosting her, but then posted three selfies, but still hadn’t opened their shared Doc or shown up to class. Roxxi followed with a dramatic retelling of her argument with one of her professors during a lecture inspired by The Hunt that focused on the psychological profile of Final Girls. He claimed most survivors were chosen because they were pure or morally superior.
She called him out and cited real Crowsfell data from past Hunts. The kind that showed survival wasn’t about being a virgin or saying no to parties. It was about resilience, instinct, and knowing when to play the game better than anyone else. Apparently, when he told her, she was emotional and proved his point. The guy had forgotten who he was debating with, but she reminded him with a rebuttal of:
“You know what’s really emotional? Hiding a porn-stash of worn cheerleader rosters and senior photos in the locked bottom drawer of your desk. The one you think no one knows about.”
Then she grabbed her bag and walked out of class.
Ari shifted in our recliner, tucking her legs beneath her. “I don’t have much to share. Sorry, guys.”
I waved her off. “Ari, don’t apologize for not having a shitty day. We don’t need to be comrades in the negatives.”
That got a few soft laughs.
She hesitated, then added, “I did see something, though.”
She swirled the last sip of Moscato in her glass and tucked a strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear. “Layla seemed… off today. I saw her after class walking with someone I didn’t recognize at first. She was tall, really glam, blonde.”
Roxxi cut in, eyes narrowing. “Wait. Glam blonde as in stacked and sculpted, or fake and filtered?”
Ari’s brow pinched. “I understood all of that except stacked. What does that mean?”
Cloe answered. “A body that defies logic.”
Roxxi used her hands to shape an exaggerated hourglass in the air. “Biologically blessed in all the ways that make you question your self-worth.”
Ari gave a single, knowing nod. “Oh. Then yeah. She was very stacked, and her makeup was flawless.”
Cloe slightly puckered her lips in thought. “That narrows it down to half the Crowsfell population.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” Ari added. “She had a tattoo—a green dragonfly on the back of her neck, impossible to miss.”
My stomach dropped a little. I knew who it was.
“Sarah Myers,” I murmured.
“Mhm, but that’s not all. They ducked off and kissed with a whole lot of passion. I walked right by without them noticing.”
I tried to picture that. “I had no idea Layla was into girls.”
“If she can sit on it or swallow it, she’s into it,” Roxxi preached, making Cloe laugh.
“That explains why I haven’t heard much from her lately.”
A look passed between them, subtle but there.
I frowned. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Roxxi replied, way too fast. “Just not shocked Layla’s kissing our ass one day and getting off with our enemy the next. Why was Sarah on campus so late?”
“I forgot to tell you. Ash said she was transferring or something like that.”
Roxxi lowered her glass promptly after she’d just picked it up again, slowly. “Sarah Myers? The girl I beat the shit out of in high school is transferring to Crowsfell?”
I blinked. “You what?”
Cloe leaned back and took a long sip like it was water. “Bathroom fight. Roxxi did what needed to be done. I guarded the door.”
“She popped off one time too many and swung at me first.”
“Why am I only now finding out about this?”
Roxxi lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I honestly haven’t thought about her much until now. Let’s go back a bit to what you said. Ashton told you?”
All three of them stared at me.
What followed was an overdue conversation. One that started with a hesitant, “Okay, so…” and unraveled into me finally laying everything out. Ashton, Ryder, and the whole messy situation, including the Nest brawl, leaving out the more explicit details. Some things did not need to be repeated out loud. They didn’t need to hear about how badly I wanted Ryder inside me or that I remembered the night I kissed him in vivid, obsessive detail. I could see on their faces that they were connecting the dots anyway.