Selena returns her attention to me, plastering a smile onto her lips that makes me realize that while Church struggles with his emotions, his smiles aren't fake like that. This is most definitely not a pleasant sort of smile.

“No worries. I can get it afterward. Do you want to meet me in the dorm lounge or something? Mark's taking me out later, so I'll definitely be around.”

“Actually, I can’t,” I say on impulse, just before she moves off. Selena pauses and blinks back at me like she can’t believe I’d have the audacity to refuse. “I’m staying with all five of these idiots tonight, and we’re sort of doing a movie thing.”

“Maybe just before or just after?” she suggests, but I’m not liking the vibe I’m getting. We obviously don’t have a ton of evidence to implicate her, but what we do have is strong. Plus, she’s sort of giving me the creeps right now. She’s being far too pushy.

“I’ll be stuck with them from now until Monday, at least.” I give her a dramatic wink, hoping to clear the suspicion from her eyes by acting like a pervy dork. Doesn’t work. She tosses her hair over shoulder.

“Fine. I’ll send a courier at some point next week, and you can leave it with them.”

“Thanks for understanding,” I say, forcing a smile before Selena heads back over to her side of the kitchen.

“What was that about?” Church asks, as I shiver slightly

“She's guilty,” the twins say in unison. I glance back at them and find them nodding in unison. “We knew it.”

“If she’s here, then they’re all here, all four of them. That’s when something bad is going to happen. Imagine if she caught me alone in the dorm lounge. At least if she thinks I’m going to be with you guys all weekend, they’re less likely to try something.”

“Good call,” Church says, as the announcer blows his whistle and instructs us to line up at our stations. We’re given our first category, and the kitchen explodes into chaos. Fortunately, we do this so often that it’s practically mechanical at this point, leaving me with enough energy and focus to watch Selena instead.

She, of course, doesn’t do a damn thing wrong, but I have that feeling on the back of my neck the same way I did when I was at Highgate Cemetery. I’m not getting caught off guard this time.

Ranger nails all three rounds in the competition, just like we knew he would, and we choose a local animal rescue as our charity. On our way back to the dorm later, we run into something interesting.

Mark and Selena, arguing in the woods.

“There’s no point, Mark,” she snaps, yanking her wrist from him. “It’s not going to happen tonight.”

“Okay, damn, that’s literal,” I whisper and Spencer slaps a hand over my mouth, just before Selena continues on, pacing away from Mark and then back again. We’re all standing at the edge of the path, along the line of trees, looking in at them.

“You want me to sleep with you, when I know for a fact you’re sniffing around Aster’s tail?”

“Nothing’s happened between us,” Mark pleads, but his voice is like oil—far too slick for his own good. “We’ve just gotten close is all. We spend a lot of time together, and she’s here, you’re there …”

“I’m being punished for staying at Everly then?” Selena demands to know, scooting away when Mark reaches out for her.

“You’re not being punished, Selena, but you know it would be easier if you were here. Everything would be easier. Like tonight, or even this weekend. It wouldn’t matter what she was going.” I glance over at Church, and he returns the look. What Mark’s saying could mean a whole lot of different things, like maybe he’s talking about Aster? Somehow, though, I feel like that last part is about little old me.

“It’s fine,” she says, gesturing loosely in his direction. This time though, she finally lets him put his hands on her waist. “Next time I’m here, we’ll do it.”

“Yeah, we will, all night fucking long,” Mark growls into her ear, and I roll my eyes.

“We’re running out of time, Mark,” she says softly, her voice a deep melancholy.

“I know,” he says, as we slowly move away from the spot, their voices fading into whispers. “I know, but we’ll get her—I promise you.”

It all started the morning of senior prom.

According to Adamson Academy tradition, Everly hosts the senior proms for both schools on odd years, and Adamson on even years. Well, since this year is an even year, we’re having it here, in the big old stuffy ballroom where the academy hosts its fancy-schmancy parent dinner parties and galas. I mean, you have to give them something considering the staggering cost of tuition to go here.

As the Student Council—yay, I’m so excited I still get to say that!—we were in charge of not only the theme, but also essentially acting as a prom committee.

Which, you know, being surrounded by rich assholes makes it super easy since they hired everything out. Need food? Cater it. Want music? Hire a band. Décor? Get an event planner.

“I feel like we’re missing out somehow, you know? Like we should be making paper signs and hanging streamers, and struggling to procure some two-bit loser band from the boardwalk.”

Spencer gives me a weird look.

“You like doing poor people stuff?” he asks me as my eye twitches in irritation.

“Peasants have their own customs, don’t judge,” Tobias adds, nodding his head, and crossing his arms over his chest. But it’s a judge-y head nod and arm crossing, so I smack him in the arm with my phone. “What? That wasn’t even an insult.”

“Also, please stop buying me bras and underwear. I have plenty of it,” I say, giving both twins and Spencer a look.

“Oh, that’s not because you’re poor, that’s because we like buying you bras and underwear,” Micah adds with a loose shrug of his shoulders, looking up at the glittering chandeliers above our heads, and the flower garlands made of real flowers. Each one of those probably costs a small fortune, and there are dozens of them. It looks more like a wedding in here than a prom, to be honest.

The colors are based on the Adamson Academy crest—navy-blue and champagne—and the round room is divided into sections. There are tables to the left of the door, with vases bursting with floral arrangements, tealights waiting to be lit, and plush chairs wrapped with large navy ribbons that hang from the backs.

“You know, since there’s only going to be one of me, and five of you tonight,” I start as Spencer lifts a questioning brow in my direction. Church is busy sweeping the room with the event planner and discussing small details, while Ranger discusses the arrangement of sweets that we’ve baked just for tonight’s occasion. “If you want to dance with any other girls, that’s okay.”

“That’s okay?” Spencer echoes, looking at the twins, and then putting a palm on the top of my head. “Are you nuts? It might be okay with you, but it’s not okay with me. I don’t want to dance with any other girls.”

“Yeah, but,” I start, and the twins smack their hands over my mouth, one twin’s on top of the other.