Twisted Lies by Nora Cobb
Chapter 15
Astrid
I decided not to show my costume to Roni and hide it in my closet behind my suitcase. Anxiously, I eye the closet door as if it could leap out on its own. She hovers for a moment but leaves without asking what I’m wearing. The relief washes over me as she heads out for Salem. It will only be a surprise if I don’t show her, and she can see the pictures after her return.
Nova: What’s your ETA?
Shit, I forgot I was meeting Nova at the Pit. We always went together on the weekends, but that changed after Stonehaven. My costume lies across my bed as I think up another lame excuse to blow her off. I should just tell her the truth. Sure. I’m blowing you off to go to the ball. I wince as I type something else.
Astrid: Track in the a.m. Sorry.
She doesn’t text me back right away. She’s probably cursing my name.
Nova: K.
That’s it? Nothing else? I toss my phone on my desk. By now, Nova must know that I’m inventing excuses to blow her off. How many times can I use the same reason and not get called out for it? Roni is my friend, but I hide stuff from her. Nova’s my friend, and I’m blowing her off. Why? So I can be accepted by rich kids? No, not kids…boys. Not boys…men.
My conscience eases up on me while I shower, and I close my eyes, daydreaming about who’ll I’ll dance with. I know all eyes will be on me when I show up in my costume. Now, I’m psyched to be going as I apply my makeup. I decide not to overdo it and apply my new blush with a light hand. The girl at Ulta talked me into buying a twenty-dollar lipstick that Gaga hawks. The red looks good, and I’m pleased with everything as I model in front of the mirror.
The senior Halloween Ball already started an hour ago as I approach the door to the dining hall. I’ll dance with Wyatt, of course, and Justin. Bryce can dance with Charlotte all night—as if I give a flying fuck—and Pierce can glare all by himself while he jerks off in the corner.
The music blasts into the air as some guy opens the door. He looks me up and down. His eyes exhibit unconcealed shock. I look good, but he’s getting carried away as his eyes widen into circles. Quickly, I step into the dining hall, and the inside has been transformed. The long tables have been replaced by circular ones covered with long white tablecloths that touch the floor. The center of the room has been cleared out for couples to dance under an old-fashioned mirror ball and purple lights. A band is at the far end, in front of the stained glass that’s lit from outside.
My breath catches in my chest as I walk slowly out onto the floor. But something is very wrong as my eyes dart around the room. All the girls have on long skirts that sweep the floor and long gloves that cover their arms. That’s not all. The guys are dressed alike in dark suits. Little by little, like a gust of wind picking up speed, each person turns around to stare at me. I’m the only person wearing a costume. Not only that, but I’m showing a lot of skin.
Someone laughs, and then whispers start while another person adds to the laughter.
My eyes lock on Charlotte, who’s slow dancing across the room with Bryce. Her arms are wrapped over his shoulders as she leans into him and whispers something in his ear. He dances her around in a half-circle so he can get a look at the spectacle that is me. Charlotte turns her head and watches me as Bryce laughs. His laugher transforms into a sneer as his cold gaze holds mine.
I am a fool.
I start to back away toward the door, but something physical stops me. I reach behind me, and my hand lands on a strong thigh blocking my exit. Quickly I spin around on my heel and face Pierce.
“Nice outfit, Astrid.” He leers at my pushed-up cleavage and then raises his voice. “How much for a lap dance?”
Sheer willpower forces my chin to stay up as the laughter starts to drown out the band. I try to move past Pierce, but he catches my wrist and pulls me into his arms.
“It’s not very ladylike to turn down an offer from a gentleman to dance.” Pierce tugs me, and in my heels, I lurch forward, his body stopping mine from falling.
“Let me go,” I hiss under my breath.
“After we dance,” he whispers. Pierce motions to the band, and another slow ballad starts.
He pulls me awkwardly out into the middle of the floor as the others watch and form a circle around us to get a better look. It’s the fight on the lawn all over again, except fists aren’t the weapon to use to win this one. I’ve slapped him before, and it felt good, but a slap isn’t going to be enough this time. The slap was just a warning—next time, it’ll be revenge, and I plan on him never forgetting who gave him the worst moment of his life.
My feet barely move as Pierce holds me tight, not daring to look at the faces circling us as he slow dances next to me. His hand holds mine up stiffly, and I feel him trying to bait me with his moves. Purposely pressing his hand into my lower back, trying to lift the back of my skirt. I pull away quickly so it will fall back into place.
“See, I knew you had it in you,” he whispers, “I knew you couldn’t pass up a chance to show that body off. Now, if you’d only show it off in the ring.”
“Let me go,” I whisper, low and dangerous. “And when I get you back later…maybe it won’t be so bad.”
“Really? You know, I didn’t tell you to dress like this.” He twirls my arm, and I have to spin, knowing my skirt probably lifted an inch. We face each other again. “But then again, I would have guessed this is your interpretation of dressing up.” He laughs shortly. “Oh, what I wouldn’t pay to see those red lips wrapped around my hard dick. Just say the word, and we’ll step outside and get your profession started.”
I yank my wrists out of his hand. My chest rises up and down, but I don’t dare lash out. Not while all of them watch, waiting for the gutter girl to act trashy. I won’t do it. Pierce steps toward me, but Justin steps in between us.
“I’m cutting in,” he tells him smugly, “Go jerk off in the corner.”
“We weren’t done.” Pierce hisses.
Justin’s eyes are stone cold. “You are now.”
Justin holds up his hands, and I hold onto him as we start to move across the floor away from Pierce. The initial shock has subsided, and a few sharp looks and barbs are sent in my direction as we move across the floor. Gradually, other couples join us, more interested in each other than in drama. My gaze locks on Wren, and she shakes her head then looks away.
“Thanks,” I whisper. “For coming to get me.”
Justin smiles. “You really do look lovely. Every guy here is checking you out, but they won’t dare admit it to their dates.”
“Why didn’t you come with a date?” I ask.
“Because my intention was to spend the evening dancing with you.”
I bite my lip, and though it has settled down, I don’t want to be here. Obviously, I don’t fit in. And I have no one to blame this time. I fooled myself into thinking I could be accepted as is. I glance past Justin’s shoulder, and my eye catches on Professor Harmon, who is chaperoning the dance with another teacher I don’t know. Harmon looks at me and shakes her head as she continues her conversation.
“Are they going to kick me out?” I whisper to Justin.
“Why?” he asks, smirking, “Because you’re making the other girls look dull?”
He says it to be kind, but I feel ill as my stomach starts to gurgle. We step back, and I’m pushed from behind. I look over my shoulder at Wren, who’s smirking as she pretends she didn’t just shove me. Charlotte is seated off at a table with Bryce, holding hands. I turn my attention back to Justin, and soon, I’m pushed again. As I’m teetering dangerously on my heels, the song ends, and the band starts to play a fast song. I step away from Justin, and three girls grab hold of him, pulling him away. Immediately, I’m pushed again, and this time, I go down onto my knees.
Without Charlotte’s protection, the knives come out and start flashing. I struggle to get up, but I’m pushed down again—a hard shove in my back as someone tugs at my halo, pulling hair out along with it. I try to get back up, but each time a hand pushes me down as the dancing couples continue to circle around me on the floor.
My view is blocked by sweeping fabric and fast-moving legs as I try to crawl on my hands and knees toward a table. I’m shoved, losing my bearings as I crawl toward where I think there’s a wall. I reach out, and my hand grips a table.
I look up and see legs in front of me. Pierce smirks as I try to get away from him, but each time I move my hand to the side, it’s stepped on until I yelp in pain. With a shock, I realize I’ve been herded toward him. I spin on my knees as my shoe comes loose, but I can’t see past the long skirts. I hold my beating chest—the chaperones can’t see me past the dresses blocking me out of view.
I’m at his feet, staring up into his face. “You wouldn’t dare!” I hiss.
“I wouldn’t dare?” He chuckles. “Yet here you are, on your knees like the hardworking slut that you are. Should we find out how easily that cheap lipstick rubs off?”
Someone grabs me by my hips and drags me closer to his open legs. I start to kick and thrash to get away. I swore I would never cry at Stonehaven, but I can’t help it. Tears start streaming down my face as another fast song conceals my cries.
I spit as fabric touches my face, and I lash out with my fists.
“No!” I shout as I’m pulled forward.
My fist makes contact with his balls. Pierce snarls as his face contorts in flaring pain. He glares at me as if it was my fault. And his hand rises up in the air, ready to strike me. When I try to back away, I can move.
I feel a hand on me, and I start slapping, but the hand firmly pulls me up off the floor.
“Astrid!” shouts Prof Harmon, shutting her eyes against my flying hands. “Astrid, calm down.”
I lean into Professor Harmon as she hugs me close to her body, helping me to walk away. Harmon escorts me outdoors, and the cold temperature shakes my body as I ease ice air into my lungs.
“Do you have a coat?” she asks.
I shake my head. The door opens, and Justin steps out. His hair is ruffled, and his suit jacket is askew as if he had to fight his way out here. He looks at me, but Harmon gives him a dirty look that makes him hesitate.
“Go in, Justin,”
“I wanted to…” he says.
“Go in.”
I look away, and Justin walks back into the hall.
“First off, are you okay?” she asks.
I shake my head—no point in lying when it’s obvious that I’m ready to cry.
“I didn’t see everything, but I saw enough,” she says, “Come on, I’ll walk back to your dorm.”
A calmness distracts me from the cold I feel as we walk along. Harmon has soothing energy, almost maternal. Maybe that’s why I respect her, because she acts the way I think an adult should behave.
“You crossed the wrong girl?” she asks.
“How did you know?” I ask.
“The girls wouldn’t have let the boys get away with that without making a fuss.”
“I thought we were cool,” I reply, “but obviously, I was mistaken. Dr. Rawlins said I’ll never fit in here.”
Harmon scoffs. “You might have, given enough time, but it’s doubtful now. Wealthy people are odd. There’s a difference between being born into it and having to work for it. They will never let you forget your roots. Dr. Rawlins could tell you that.”
“She said she went here,” I reply.
Harmon nods. “We were in the same class together. She can be friendly when she forgets to be a snob.”
I sigh. “I don’t think she likes me much.”
“She doesn’t like many people very much. You have plenty of company.” We stop in front of my dorm, and Harmon smiles at me kindly. She looks sweeter when she smiles. “You aren’t a follower. If you were, you would have asked someone what to wear.” She pauses as the strictest returns to her features. “If you want to file a complaint…”
I shake my head. “I should, but I have to think about it.”
“Yes, you should.” She glances down the path that leads to Foxworth House. “But I understand why you’re hesitant. Shame you don’t have anywhere to go.” Harmon smiles again, touching my wings. “I like the wings.”
I shrug. “I do, too, but I have to put on a coat.”
