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“Sure, it does.” I fight back tears. “Everything makes sense now. Your disdain toward me from the moment you laid eyes on me. I was a punishment, but you made the most of it, didn’t you! Are you plotting against me or my dad? Or both of us?”

He holds my gaze. “Neither of you. I meant every word in that song. You’ve turned my world upside down. I can’t get over you.”

Tears escape, but they just disappear in the water. “Then you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Remember everything I told you about my aunt and uncle? The bastards sent me away to boarding school while I was dealing with the loss of my parents at such a young age! They don’t care about me, much less tell me anything. I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

“Then why would she text you that?”

“I couldn’t tell you. All I know is that I’m as in the dark as you are. I’ll prove it to you right now. Watch me text my aunt to find out what she’s talking about.” He waves me over.

I don’t budge.

He comes over to me and taps out a text.

Bash: What’s in place? What do you mean Ayers is going down?

Bash looks at me. “I swear to everything holy and honest, I’m as confused as you are.”

I clench my jaw, refusing to say anything until I see her response. It comes in pretty quickly.

AC: Ignore the text. Accidentally sent it to the wrong person.

Bash lifts his brows. “See?”

I fold my arms. “Press her for more.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Press her for more.”

“Okay.” He composes another text.

Bash: Are you talking about the king?

AC: I said ignore it.

Bash: You can’t tell me to ignore that.

AC: I can tell you to ignore anything I want. Ignore it!

Bash: No.

He glances up at me while we wait for the next one to come in. I don’t show him the relief that I’m starting to feel. His aunt obviously doesn’t want him to know, but that still means she’s planning something against me or one of my relatives—probably my dad. And from everything I understand about her, she’s an influential socialite.

AC: Look, kid. It’s a joke between your uncle and me. Let it go.

Bash: What kind of joke?

AC: The kind you don’t have to concern yourself with. Go study and get your grades up. We aren’t happy with your latest report card.

He rolls his eyes. “She’s a master at changing the subject. Do you believe me now?”

I nod. “Sorry I doubted you, but you have to admit it looked bad. Really bad.”

“I get it.” He puts his arm around me. “Can you do me a favor, though?”

“What?”