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Or … maybe this is a good change? I was due for some change, I think.
While the twins rub all over their friend, Church walks in slowly and silently, still frowning, and then pauses in the center of the room with Ranger right behind him. His eyes flick briefly to mine, and in them, I can see it: he knows.
They'll all know.
I'm sitting in a dorm room with a bunch of dudes, and they're all gonna know that I just lost it to Spencer. I'd be embarrassed if I wasn't overwhelmed with so many other feelings.
Everyone goes quiet when Church goes still, wearing those pale blue and white satin-y pajamas that seem to suit his personality. The color is cute, but the shirt is buttoned all the way to the top, a very serious sort of statement. He stares at his friend with those striking amber eyes of his.
“Church,” Spencer says carefully, sitting up as the twins scoot away to give him some room. Tobias meets my eyes, and raises his brows. I look at Church instead, refusing to acknowledge that questioning stare of his.
“Spencer,” Church replies, and then his mouth breaks into one of those huge, over the top grins. “You cocksucking piece of shit.”
“Dude, I had no—” Spencer starts when the door flings open a second time, cracking the drywall. Ross is standing there in a pink pajama set with little sheep all over it. His mouth is downturned in an almost comical sort of way, and tears are just streaming from his usually narrowed and mean sort of eyes. “Uh, Ross, are you okay, man?”
“You … you prick!” Ross wails, rushing into the room and throwing himself at Spencer. He's sobbing too, and the twins have to literally pry him off before he suffocates Spencer with his violent snuggling. As soon as Ross backs up a bit though, he slaps Spencer in the chest with the back of one hand and plants the other on his hip. “Are you stupid? Do you live in a cave? Or maybe you’re living in the nineties, like you’ve forgotten how to send a text message or check social media?”
“I—” Spencer starts, and then pauses, looking around the room like he’s realizing how many people truly care about him for the first time. As I start to calm down, my anxiety and embarrassment start to climb up. When he looks at me, all I can think about is the feel of his body sliding in and out of mine, bringing me to new heights of pleasure. I didn’t even know it could feel that good. It’s not like I’ve never touched myself before, but … having Spencer’s hands on my body was a blessing from the gods. “I’m sorry.”
His words are soft, definitely genuine, and at that, a sort of strange tension leaves the room, and I hear several of the others take in long, deep breaths.
“It’s not your fault,” Church says, settling back into that careful neutral of his. “But you really did give us a pretty shitty week. I say … two weeks of Culinary Club cleanup duty, at least.”
“I second the motion,” Ranger grumbles, trying to cover up a rare smile.
“Third,” the twins murmur in unison, and then turn to glare at one another.
“Motion denied,” Spencer sputters, but Ross is already pulling the stylus from his phone and making a note.
“Minutes recorded, motion transcribed.”
“This is total BS,” Spencer mumbles, but he smiles a little anyway. “Fine, but I'm still pissed at you guys.” He leans back on the bed, shirtless and glorious and most importantly: with a pulse. “You know I hate secrets, so why was I the last to know? You can't trust me, is that it?”
“It was my fault. Ranger asked me to tell you sooner,” I say, standing up from the bed. Ross gives my mussed-up hair and swollen lips a look, like he can tell from that one, simple glance what went on in here. Or … or maybe it smells like sex?!
I choke a little as everyone turns to look at me. Act natural, Charlotte, act natural. Honestly, intimacy with Spencer felt like the most natural thing in the world, despite the fact that it was my first time.
“I've been getting notes from someone who knows my identity. I was trying to keep it a secret as long as possible, from everyone. The twins guessed, and Church saw me naked. Ranger—”
“Church saw you naked?” Spencer asks, this slight edge to his voice.
“It's a long story, maybe best left for tomorrow,” Church says, tilting his head to one side and studying his friend with an awe that I feel inside my chest, like a glowing star or … something. I'm not the most poetic person in the world, but the feeling of seeing this boy alive is something I'll never forget.
At any moment, Dad could've told me that the dead boy in the woods wasn't Spencer. He didn't even have to tell me the student's name, just that my friend was still alive.
I am royally pissed off about that.
“You should check in with the headmaster,” Church continues, leaning his shoulder against the wall. If I didn't think the guy was like, one of the undead or something, I might actually think he was tired. It's the little tells, you know, like the small crease between his brows or the slump of his shoulders. “We'll all walk back together.” Church stands up and grabs my jacket from the hook near the door, offering it up to me.
I stand up and stumble a little, my legs still shaky, and end up falling against him. Damn, does he smell good. That signature lilac and rosemary scent of his makes my body tingle, but I blame it on the fact that Spencer and I just had sex.
We had sex.
Holy hell, we had sex … I glance back to find him watching me as Church helps me into my jacket. Spencer stands up, and we all turn to stare at him, like he's a ghost come back to life or something.
“Would you all stop looking at me like that?” he asks, laughing slightly.
Ranger looks him dead in the face.
“No. We're all gonna be up your ass for the rest of the year. Get used to it.”
He turns and leads the way from the room, Church and Ross right behind him. The twins are last, waiting while Spencer pulls on his hoodie.
“Let’s do this,” he says, exhaling sharply, gaze still firmly locked on mine. “Let’s tell the headmaster that this asshole is back from the dead.”
There's no reason for Dad to know that I snuck back to the dorms, so I switch into a pair of clean pajamas before I go in to wake him up. He comes to, bleary-eyed but unshakably calm, as usual.
Spencer is leaning against the wall in the hallway, one foot propped up. He stands up straight when Dad comes out in his robe and slippers, squinting at him.
“Spencer Hargrove,” he says with a small nod. “You had your friends worried sick about you.” Dad casts me a look, wearing a baggie hoodie and sweats, my hair all mussed-up, glasses askew. For whatever reason, I don't want him to know that Spencer knows, not yet.
Please don't let him look at me and know that I slept with Spencer, I think, but of course I'm being a crazy person. There's no tattoo on my face that says non-virgin person. But then I remember how glaringly obvious it was that Monica and Cody were fucking behind my back. It's the little tells, right?
“I'm sorry, sir,” Spencer says, lifting those gorgeous turquoise eyes of his to my dad's face. “My parents knew where I was, so I didn't—”
“You're not in trouble,” my dad says, waving his hand dismissively. The anger in me rises a little higher as I realize that he wasn't at all worried about Spencer. He knew he was alive and okay. He knew it, and he didn't tell me.
Church knows, too. I can tell by the way his amber eyes narrow slightly, and his mouth turns down at the corners.
“You should all get back to bed and get rested up for the week. Class starts promptly on Monday morning.”
“No days of mourning for the dead student, huh?” I ask, knowing I'm getting an attitude here and not caring. I'm furious. “Someone was murdered on campus, and it's just back to your regularly scheduled programming,” I grumble, imitating my dad's voice.
“Chuck, not right now. It's four in the morning. Go back to bed, and next time, please come ask me before you let a large group of students into the house in the middle of the night.” Dad turns back to the Student Council, but I can see from
their expressions that … they're on my side?
The way they look at him, with a varying mix of anger, frustration, and pity makes me feel good inside. It's like I have my own crew now, bullies turned besties or something like that. “I'll call Nathan and have him escort you boys back to the dormitory.”
“Sir, if I may,” Church begins, smoothing his palms down his lapels, “but in times like this, solidarity amongst the students, as well as a show of strength from the administration might be necessary. Perhaps assigning Chuck as Spencer's roommate would solve both the issue of them being alone in the dorms, as well as putting forth a display of confidence in this academy?”
“It's too early for this,” Dad grumbles, putting his fingers to his forehead. “Chuck's not going anywhere tonight. I'm sorry, boys.” He moves between them, dialing up Nathan on his phone as he heads down the stairs, more than likely expecting the Student Council to follow him.
They don't.
Not even asshole Ross.
“Your dad's kind of a prick,” Spencer says, looking at me like he's searching my face for some hint of … something. I'm still in shock that he's alive, and I think I might be crushing so ridiculously hard on the guy that it's impossible to force my snarky mouth to make words. Words are hard.
“He can be,” I choke out as Tobias swings has green gaze between me and Spencer. “But I've lived with the guy all my life, I'm used to it.”
“Right.”
An awkward sort of energy falls between us, and Ross clears his throat.
“As fascinating as this all is, I have about a hundred people I need to text, social media posts to update, and an entire mess of shit to mop up that you,” he jabs his finger into Spencer's chest, “just crapped all over my meticulously managed schedule. Do you know how much work goes into being the Student Council's assistant?”
“About as much as goes into actually being in the Student Council, which is to say not a whole lot,” Spencer quips, and Ross stabs him with a finger again.
“You have no idea the mountain of paperwork I'm going to have to fill out over your disappearance. You're in huge trouble, sir.” Ah, I'd almost forgotten that Ross has a huge crush on Spencer. Looking between the two of them, I'm almost … jealous? Eww, gross. Like I care what Spencer does or doesn't do with other people.
Only … I do.
Because I like him. A lot. And when I thought he was dead, I felt like someone had clipped off a piece of my heart and I'd be forever bleeding.
“Did you know Chuck's secret?” Spencer asks, looking Ross dead in the face. The other boy stutters and flushes, and then clamps his lips shut tight. “Yeah, that's what I thought. I'm still reeling here.”
“Better get over it quick,” Tobias says, giving his friend a look. “We were all devastated. Micah could barely eat or sleep, and Virgin Chuck spent most everyday sobbing.”
My cheeks go beet red, and my eyes widen so much that I wouldn't be surprised if they fell right out of my face and went bouncing down the stairs. Gee, thanks Tobias, you dick, I think as Spencer turns slowly to look at me, some of the same horror from my expression reflected back in his.
Two things I didn't want him to know, he's now privy to. Fantastic.
“Virgin Chuck?” Spencer asks, but then we all hear the sound of the front door opening and Nathan's signature shuffle walk. “Where'd that nickname come from?”
“Okay, I'm tired. As excited as I am that you're not six feet under, I want you out of my house.” I put both hands on Spencer's back, ignoring the tingle in my palms, and then push him toward the staircase.
The boys go down in a group, seemingly at my command, but when I turn to head back up, Spencer grabs my wrist and pulls me close to him.
“Your nickname,” he starts, but I'm not having this conversation two feet from my father's back.
“Get a new phone and then text me,” I grumble, pulling my arm from his grip. But halfway up, I pause to look back and find him still staring at me. Something inside of me lights up at that look, but I spin away before the stupid goofy smile on my lips ruins everything.
Spencer Hargrove is alive.
This is the greatest day of my life.
But also, I need him to not know any of that or I'll die from embarrassment.
Being seventeen sucks.
Sleep comes far easier than I thought. I assumed I'd be tossing and turning all night, dreaming of Spencer, but then my body must've realized that being in a continuous state of anxiety for seven days straight was just too much and I conk out.
In the morning, I find Dad in his office, talking in hushed tones on his phone. He sees me and shoos me away with his hand which is fine by me. The last thing I feel like doing right now is hanging out with him.
I don't have a lot of clothes that I feel would keep up my disguise, and I'm not interested in wearing my uniform on a day off, so I flip the top open on my laptop and send Tobias a message.
I mean, I'd send one to Spencer, but apparently he doesn't check his goddamn messages.
I'm dying here. Can we all go into town together?
For several minutes, I just stare at the screen, tapping my fingers on the desk and waiting. But Tobias gets back to me quickly, those satisfying little dots popping up on the bottom of the screen to show that he's typing.
Definitely. Meet you at your place in thirty?
I hit the thumbs-up emoji, and then leap up to get dressed. If I'm going out, I may as well go full-glam. Well, as glammed up as I can get in a half an hour.
Before I get started on my beauty routine, I pop my head back into my dad's office.
“I'm going out with the Student Council. We'll be in Nutmeg, probably at the diner or something.”
Dad stands up from his chair as I book it toward the stairs.
“You didn't think to ask if that was okay? You just tell me what you're going to do now, and that's that?” I pause halfway up the stairs with my hand on the banister, and turn back to look at him.
“I'll be eighteen in less than a year. And yeah, that's what I suspect I'll be doing.” Dad purses his lips, and there's the slight flaring of nostrils, but that's it, the only spark of anger I see in him.
“Well, I'm fine with you going into town with your friends, but I want you back before dark.” There's something too easy about this, about the way he's giving in.
I don't like it.
My intuition is buzzing with suspicion.
“Why didn't you just tell me that Spencer was alive?” I ask, truly curious. I mean, you'd think if a father could alleviate his daughter's suffering that he'd do whatever it took. Even an obsessive rule-follower like Archibald Carson should've been able to figure out that an it's all going to be alright, Charlotte, your friend is not the dead boy doesn't break any of the police's rules.
“It wasn't my place, Charlotte. I take my job very seriously, you know that. And I needed to respect the wishes of the investigators.” He turns away to go back into his office, and then pauses. “Take the emergency credit card with you and buy a new phone; I don't like it when I can't contact you.” He adjusts his glasses and gives my frowning face a look, like he can tell I'm seeing right through his bullshit. “I don't care if it's an Apple or a Samsonite, or whatever, but it has to be comparable to the one you just lost.” Too late, Dad, the Student Council already got me one.
“It's not Samsonite, Dad, it's Samsung.”
Archie ignores me and disappears into his office, leaving me with this dark swirling feeling of unease in my lower belly. He's clearly mad at me, but he's being so … lenient.
I don't like this, not one bit.
It feels like there's another mystery revealing itself at Adamson, one that's, you know, a little different from the murder but just as alarming.
God only knows what my Dad is planning.
“I don't trust him,” I say over a strawberry sundae with real strawberry syrup. Apparently, it’s homemade right here, by hand, from organic strawberries grown behind the
café and tended with love and care and a truckload of hard ass work—excuse my language. This is all straight from the horse's mouth, the horse being Merinda Smith, the owner of the Jaw Flapper Diner.
Well, actually Church's family owns the place, but it's very clear who the heart and soul of this restaurant is.
“Your dad?” the twins asks in unison, each of them with a completely different type of sundae in front of them. I noticed they both started to order the same—hot fudge, vanilla ice cream, topped with nuts, total classic—but then they turned and glared at each other and both went off in completely random directions. Micah is rocking a scoop of blueberry ice cream with blackberry syrup and sugared huckleberries on the top while Tobias has an orange-vanilla scoop with marmalade and candied walnuts. “Why?”
“He told me to get a new phone—I didn’t bother to tell him you guys already did.” I wiggle the new iPhone around (it's a cheery yellow which, like, totally floats my boat) as an example. “And he didn't like that I just told him I was going out, instead of phrasing it as a question, yet he let me go out anyway.”
“Shit, throw him in jail for child abuse,” Spencer says, and I jump. He's smiling though, sitting opposite me in the booth. I think he wanted to sit together, but Tobias slid in the seat, and then Micah hip bumped me in next to them. So now I'm a shield between the twins while Spencer sits sandwiched between Church and Ranger. The former has a huge bowl of coffee ice cream, with a hot mug of black coffee on the side, and the latter is working on a slice of pie. “But I get it. You're used to him being a prick, and he's not, so …”
Spencer trails off, his eyes drifting slightly downward, toward my breasts. I wore the prettiest blue dress in my closet, this short little cotton spring wrap with wedges and a cluster of pearlescent bracelets that Monica got me for my birthday last year.
When I opened the front door this morning, I thought several of the boys might blow a gasket. Or maybe just a load in their pants. It was both strangely thrilling and a bit terrifying, all at the same time.
“You look pretty as a girl,” is what Spencer told me. Nice, I suppose, considering he went on and on about how ugly he found me as a guy.