Page 126 of Good Girls Lie

“I’m furious with you for having relations with a student, and I should fire you on the spot. But I’ve made some pretty massive mistakes myself, so why don’t we call it even, have a drink, and talk this through.”

He moves across the room so quickly she gasps. His kiss is soulful and sweet.

“Thank you. Thank you for believing me.”

“I’ve always believed in you, Rumi.”

“Forget the drinks,” he says, low and urgent, and she laughs.

“Changed your mind? One last time?”

He tosses her that wicked smile she adores.

She leads him to her old room at the top of the stairs. It is surreal to see her things from childhood, the books, the trophies, the stuffed animals, the posters. A happier time. An easier time.

Her mother never changed the decor. Jude hasn’t given up on Ford moving back into the house. The bed is large, the sheets sweet and clean.

Rumi doesn’t notice the girlish details; he has eyes only for Ford.

She and Rumi, they are good together. Right together. When he kisses her, undresses her, properly, gently, as if this is their first time together, she realizes she doesn’t want to break it off with him. Doesn’t want this to be the last time. She’s grown to care about him. Maybe she always has.

She lies in the crook of his arm afterward, sated and glowing, a leg thrown over his strong thighs, runs a finger down his chest.

“I have to tell you something,” Rumi says.

“Mmm?” she says languorously, with a stroke of his flesh, because she knows what he is going to say. And she’s going to say it back and mean it.

But he surprises her.

“It’s about your mother... I heard her on a call when she stopped in for a coffee before she left. She was talking about you to someone named Ellen.”

Ford feels the anger begin to rise. “Ellen Curtis? The senator?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. She said you’d understand about the reinstatement.”

All the coins drop for Ford. “Oh, my God. That bitch!” She’s so angry she actually starts to laugh.

Rumi is looking at her quizzically. “You okay?”

“She sold me out. She’s done a deal with the alumni association. Goode goes coed and Jude Westhaven, savior to the masses, will shepherd the new deal through if they make her headmistress again. Of all the conniving, horrible...” She rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling of her childhood home. “Rumi, what do you think about New York?”

“Big city. And your mother lives there.”

“What if she didn’t? Or you didn’t ever have to see her? If I went, would you be interested in going with me?”

“On a trip?”

“I was thinking something more permanent.”

He sits up, drags her with him. The sheets fall to the floor.

“Wait a minute. Are you asking me to move to New York with you? Leave Goode?”

“Yes. That’s what I’m asking.”

The look on his face is sheer joy. “Yes, Ford. I’d love to move to New York with you. I can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“You and me both,” she says, kissing his neck, realizing she feels free for the first time in ages. To hell with this school. To hell with her mother. To hell with the Westhaven legacy, the spoiled girls, the constant politicking with the board and the alumni association and the town. It is time for Ford to make her own way in the world.