Savage Little Lies by Eden O’Neill

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sloane

Reason #1 why I’m fucked up: I tend to not trust my instincts. If I had, I wouldn’t have lost you.

What I’m going to do about it: This note is a start.

- Dorian

*

That was the first note I’d gotten from Dorian Prinze. It fell out of my locker that morning I’d seen him and the others at my house.

They didn’t stop.

The next few days we had at school, they arrived in the most random places. I found them in my bookbag, as well as in my gym locker of all places. He was obviously recruiting his Court minions to help him out, and each note started the same way. They consisted of a reason as to why he was fucked up, his own words, and then a solution as to how he was going to fix it. Reason number two was that he had trouble admitting his own faults. These were obviously my words, and his solution then had been simple. He was going to give me notes until he proved to me that wasn’t the case. That solution sounded a lot like his first, but with the rest, he started to get more creative…

As well as even more personal.

Reason #6: I don’t like anything that threatens me. That goes for anything from people to my performance on the field. I actually went vegan so I could play better, but hated it so much those first few months I thought I was going to bitch out. I’ve since learned to appreciate it, and now, I’m vegan because I actually like it—mostly. Don’t tell the boys and especially don’t tell my father. He’d look at my ass like I was crazy. My mother is a vegan, and he never understood it.

What I’m going to do about it: I’m going to try new things like I handled veganism. I hope you’ll see that soon. You’re the ultimate threat, Noa Sloane.

- Dorian

Reason #12: Personal shit gives me hives, whether it’s learning about others or giving them things about myself. This is mostly because I hate fucking small talk. Every minute means something. Every hour. Every second. I don’t like wasting anything for the sake of goddamn normalcy and societal expectations. Fuck society.

What I’m going to do about it: Refer to reason #6. I literally thought telling you about actually liking veganism would kill me. It didn’t. Reason #12 is officially corrected.

- D

Reason #15: I find myself thinking about what your reasons are, i.e., the things about yourself you might not like, but I could never see myself asking you about them. For some reason these notes are easier.

What I’m going to do about it: One day I will ask you, but one better—I won’t expect anything back. This will lead into my next reason why I’m fucked up. Just wait for it. It’s coming soon.

- dark prince (yeah, I remember your nickname for me)

Reason #16: I have issues with anger and control. I could blame everything on what happened with Charlie, and though that contributed, that isn’t the reason. I believe, at the heart, it’s ingrained in me if that’s at all possible. You wouldn’t think shit could be passed down, but if you knew some of the fucked-up things in my family history, you’d think different. It actually scares me sometimes (Reason #12 corrected again, hah), which is a huge reason I respect the hell out of my father. He has these same issues, but you’d never know it unless you know him. He’s learned to embrace his darkness and has somehow conquered it. He’s the best person I know outside of my mother.

What I’m going to do about it: Listen to the announcements today.

- whatever you want me to be

*

That last note, his reason number sixteen, I read at my locker that day. It’d fallen out like many of the others before, but this one felt different.

It was also the first one that made me want to see him.

His reasons were diving deeper, like he was exposing himself on lined paper right in front of me. Obviously, he hadn’t said these things to me, but he’d written them.

I didn’t know how to feel about that, and even though I’d been shamelessly looking forward to every one of his reasons, I hadn’t been so willing to let him back into my life. He was fucked up, and him professing his affection now could have just been a ploy. This boy got what he wanted from everyone, so why should I be any different than a toy he suddenly couldn’t have? I was probably the first person who’d said no to him.

“You got one minute, Dorian.”

The voice came from the intercom, female and who I knew to be Ares’s mom, Mrs. Mallick. I’d yet to see her, but I had heard her voice over the intercom every morning when she did the announcements.

“That’s all I need,” came a deep voice, Dorian’s voice. He chuckled, and judging by the female laughter that followed, something told me he’d gotten Ares’s mom in on this. I was well aware all of the Legacy families were close. Some shuffling occurred through the speakers. “Listen up. This message is for one person, so the rest of you fuckers can go about your business.”

“Dorian,” Mrs. Mallick gritted, but the smile in her voice couldn’t be denied. She was disciplining him clearly because she felt she had to in that moment. “That’s your one warning. I mean it.”

“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound sorry. He sounded playful, and my tummy tossed. It was rare I saw him this way. In fact, only one time.

It was the day we’d destroyed that house together, Principal Mayberry’s house. Ironically enough, I’d goaded him to do it, and surprisingly, it’d been one of the best times of my life. It’d been freeing for me too.

“Like I said, this is for one person,” Dorian stated again, and my stomach clenched. I didn’t necessarily know if I wanted to hear what he had to say. Honestly, it was easier just being mad at him. It was easier pushing him away and not having to feel the brevity of my own reasons. I may have called him fucked up, but I definitely had my own issues. He cleared his throat. “So if you’re not Noa Sloane, you can continue on with your previously scheduled broadcast.”

People stopped talking in the hallway.

Some even gasped.

For all they knew, Dorian was about to ruin my life again. The last time he’d placed me before the entire student body, he’d been removing my name.

“I messed up with this girl,” he continued on, my heart racing. “And I told her in a letter, many letters, how I was going to not mess up anymore. I promised her I’m going to be human, and this is me being that.”

I stared around the hallway. All eyes were on me.

“My reason number sixteen talked about anger, control. So this is me putting it all out there and handing it completely over to you, Noa.”

More gasps sounded, and I hugged my books.

“I’ve asked you out recently, and you both swiftly and reasonably shut my ass down. Sorry, Brielle. I mean, Principal Mallick.”

Muted laughter occurred over the speaker. I was assuming from our temporary headmaster.

“Ten seconds, Dorian,” she said.

“Noted,” he returned, chuckling, and I listened with bated breath for what he was about to say. I was actually anticipating it like an idiot. I really needed to stop getting my hopes up for this boy.

“So here is my official declaration, in which the public humiliation following said declaration will only be for the benefit of this girl. She’s trying to teach me a lesson, and I deserve to be taught one.”

He sounded serious, no humor at all in his voice.

“So once again, I’m asking you to go out with me, Noa,” he said. “I want you to get to know me and see that I’m for real about all I’ve said to you. I also want to get to know you, but I’m a stubborn SOB, so here’s some incentive so I don’t have to wait too long for your answer. I, Dorian Riley Prinze, will play in a dress every home football game until I hear back from you. I’ve never worn a dress, but I have a feeling it will be just as humiliating as it sounds. The ball’s in your court now. Have fun with it.”

He handed the mic over after that, saying as much to Ares’s mom, and I stood in the hallway slack-jawed.

“Proceed with your classes, everyone,” Mrs. Mallick said, and both snickers and gasps in the hallway commenced. Almost instantly, I got a text from my brother. He wanted to know if I heard the announcement just now.

I definitely had.

Shaking my head, I told my brother as much, and I laughed too. Dorian couldn’t be serious.

“I see he stopped being an idiot.”

I looked up to spot a familiar face, but I’d be honest. It was one I was starting to forget as of late.

Bow Reed had still been keeping her distance from me, but I noticed she hadn’t been sitting with the rest of Legacy at lunch when I saw them. I didn’t know if she was opting to eat somewhere else or what, but she hadn’t been sitting with them.

She had a gray sweater on with the Windsor Prep crest, her signature ruby brooch right in the center of her dress shirt. The bright ruby matched the ones in her ears. Her hair was up in two space buns. This girl couldn’t manage to not look cute for the life of her. Her head tilted. “And I’m pretty sure he’s actually going to do it. He’s never gone to such lengths before. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ve ever seen him date.”

Boys like him probably didn’t. Not when they could get anything they wanted.

“I’m glad he is.” She pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. “And though I didn’t need to be told, I knew he was wrong about you.”

So she’d been told the truth, had she? Of course, she had. Dorian and all the guys were her family. My back hit the lockers. “I never lied to you, Bow. And I’m sorry I gave you a reason to think any different.”

Her blink was slow. She pressed a hand to her chest. “You’re apologizing to me?” she asked, those lashes rapid-firing now. “But I’ve been an ass. Like a big ole ass.”

I smiled. Bow Reed cursing was like the most adorable fucking thing. She was so dang chipper and couldn’t even do it right.

“I’m sorry, Sloane. I messed up. We all did.” Her head shook. “It’d been my brother to tell me the truth, and he looked sick while he did.”

“He did?” My brow hiked.

She nodded. “He feels terrible. I heard him talking about it on his computer with the others one night.” She adjusted her bag. “I guess Ares told him and the guys to give you space, which was why I’m surprised Dorian just did what he did. Ares mentioned you were pissed at him, and I’m sure none of them were in your good graces after they didn’t believe you.”

Well, that explained the parking lot, and the Wells-and-Thatcher-keeping-their-distance thing. My brother had been there, but I had as well. Them staying back had been about me.

As it turned out, Ares Mallick struck again.

“I would have come forward sooner, but I didn’t want to make things worse,” she continued. “I hadn’t believed you either.”

Again, I’d given her reason not to. I shrugged. “You’re right about what you said. I’d been dishonest with you before.”

“Even still I should have been better.” She frowned. “I’m really sorry, Sloane. I wanted to be there for the guys, for Dorian. It was such a bad time. His parents had to leave town, and the press has just left them all alone…”

“I get it,” I said, because I did. It was just a complicated time, and I understood.

But it was still hard, Dorian and our situation so hard for me.

“I hope you’ll consider forgiving me,” she said, and I grinned.

“What would I look like not forgiving you,” I told her being honest. “You forgave me that one time, but if I do, I have a condition.”

She appeared legit hopeful, on the toes of her Mary Janes. “What’s that?”

“You come with me to this football game.” I was actually considering it, more than considering it. “If I’m going to watch Dorian Prinze be an idiot, I’m not doing it alone.”

Her brow jumped. “You’re really going to go?”

I shouldn’t. In fact, I should flat-out refuse. I should let go and let him be an idiot.

But like most things with us, it wasn’t that simple. Dorian had gotten in deep.

Enough for me to tell Bow Reed yes.