“He's such a pill,” they say in unison, with matching sighs and shrugging shoulders. It's quite the performance. ‘Sometimes I want to be my own person for five fucking seconds.’ I remember Micah's words from the onsen and tug on a blond ringlet in thought. “I just hope he's guilty, so I can beat him up,” he adds, while Tobias stays silent.

Coach Tribble blows a whistle, signaling the end of class, and Tobias gives me a look.

“We're coming with you to change,” he says, and I groan. Since there's no girls' locker room just yet, I've been changing in the bathrooms just outside the gym. The thing is, I kind of need the twins to watch over me, so the killers can't catch me with my pants down—literally speaking.

After we're back in our uniforms, we head to lunch with the rest of the Student Council.

Ranger pulls me onto his lap as soon as we get there, and Spencer rolls his eyes.

“I know you two just did it for the first time, but come on, the lovesick puppy dog eyes are killing me.”

“Jealous?” Ranger taunts, tapping the toe of his combat boot against the floor and watching the lunch crowd with narrowed eyes. “Because I'm pretty sure that I saw Charlotte sneaking out of our room on my way back from the shower.”

My cheeks flush, but even though my mouth's hanging open like some sort of total derp, I have no response to that. It's true. Spencer and I did sneak some private time in this morning, but, like, we only did hand stuff. Although hand stuff is sex. If anyone tells you otherwise, they're either ignorant, delusional, or else they subscribe to a hetero-normative view of sex that's antiquated and weird.

Ahem.

“It's so weird that you guys are banging now,” Tobias remarks, looking at the two of us like we're alien creatures with purple tentacles coming out of our crotches. He watches that kind of porn sometimes. Trust me, I know, I've seen it. I played the twin game and stole their key the other day, snuck back into the room to surprise Tobias when Micah was with Church, and caught him masturbating. That was fun.

“Maybe it's weirder that they're not banging,” Micah adds, pointing between me and Church. My eyes go wide as Spencer and the twins chuckle a bit. I have to say, they've really embraced this whole group dating thing. Maybe it's because they were so close before I ever stumbled into their family? No matter what, I won't let myself break any of these bonds.

“We're waiting until marriage,” Church deadpans, putting his chin in his hand, long, elegant fingers curled against the side of his face. I laugh, but only a little, because this is the second time he's made that joke, so … Anyway, he's not looking at us, staring across the sea of students like he's ruminating on something important. After a moment, he turns those amber eyes back in our direction, his honeyed hair smooth and straight, framing that elegant, aristocratic face of his. “I had a thought,” he muses, changing the subject in an instant. He's a natural born leader, this one. “Why do you think the killers leave us alone for such long periods of time? Hmm? There are plenty of opportunities to strike and yet, it's been weeks since school started and there's no sign of them.”

“Because they're fucking cowards is what,” Spencer snorts, swinging his gray shoes up onto the bench and leaning back like he owns the place. He sort of does, in a way. Nobody gets weed on campus without going through him. That's why I'm not overly concerned with the upcoming debates. The boys are going to kill it, I just know they are.

Then again, they don't know what's coming.

None of us do.

“Mm, no, I don't think that's it,” Church says, turning his attention back to us. “They're very clearly willing to attack in public places—like they did to Chuck in California. That, and they've obviously got an in with the police. So why? I've been asking myself that since we were at the onsen.”

“And did you come up with an answer?” Ranger asks, squeezing me close and putting his face up against the side of my neck in just such a way that my toes curl inside my shiny new shoes. Dad sent over several boxes of Mary Janes with Adamson Academy logos on the heel. I'm not a huge fan of them, but they look better with my new uniform than the brown loafers I had on before.

“I did,” Church says, flashing one of his high wattage smiles. “It's because at least one of them doesn't go to this school.”

My brows go up as I scoot my lunch tray closer to the edge of the table, so I can reach my lemonade. They make lovely strawberry lemonade here, with little umbrellas, glass straws, and bits of candied fruit on the side of the glass. I'm also aware that Ranger is most definitely not letting me off of his lap, so I better get used to sitting here while I eat.

“Meaning?” the twins ask in unison, picking up a banana each and peeling it. They both immediately go for blow job miming jokes and I roll my eyes.

“Meaning that I think we should check out Jeff Rabot, and the other holdouts in Nutmeg.” Church pauses as the doors to the cafeteria swing open and several girls walk in.

The entire cafeteria goes quiet as Aster clasps her hands together in front of her champagne and honey colored plaid skirt and smiles at everyone.

“Hello boys,” she says, beaming like crazy, her frizzy orange hair fluffed up around her face. “I hear today's the assembly where students announce they’re running for Student Council?”

“Oh, shit,” Spencer murmurs, paling a bit and reaching up with a single finger to loosen his tie.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit is right.

Because the only thing that could possibly convince the students to vote out their only party drug supplier … is a hot chick in a skirt.

“They can't do this,” Spencer grumbles as we move through the dark shadows of the woods together. It's late, not obscenely late, but late enough that we're most definitely going to be missed during the nightly room checks. Nathan's going to be pissed. Micah suggested we bribe him, but Church just shook his head and the case was closed.

I feel like he knows something.

I feel like he's always known something.

Zipping up my sparkly hoodie with the rainbow on it (a gift from Ranger), I turn back to the trail we're following—one of Spence's secret trails, courtesy of his brother Jack—that lets out on the road that curves down the mountain, away from Adamson and toward the tiny little nothing town of Nutmeg, Connecticut.

“They can, and they are,” Church muses, hands in his pockets, a black knit sweater on his lithe form, paired with jeans that probably cost more than my dad's wedding band—the one he's still wearing, by the way. Despite the divorce, despite the fact that Mom's dating Mr. Dave. “It's going to be tough, with the three girls running against us.”

“And they put Mark on the ballot? I mean, that's just fucking insane,” Spencer groans, picking up a stick and swinging it around like a sword. “Mark Grandam for secretary. The dude can't spell the word idiot to save his life. And then adding Gareth in as treasurer? What a joke. He can't even count the number of balls he doesn’t have.”

“Who's Gareth?” I ask, picking the long, reaching limb of a blackberry tendril off my black skinny jeans and then shrieking as Ranger lifts me up and carries me admirably through a mud puddle, not giving a shit about soaking his black combat boots. He sets me down on the other side, but not before pausing to look into my eyes.