Page 6 of Pretty Vengeance

SAWYER

At six-thirty in the morning, I wake for the second time. The first was when my perpetually absent roommate came in around three—nearly giving me a heart attack—and got into the bed she’s never slept in before.

At the moment, light streams in through curtains she apparently pushed open. God only knows why she did that. It’s Saturday, for fuck’s sake. We could’ve slept in.

Turning onto my side, I stare across the room at her. She’s rolled up in her bedspread, facing away from me. Her burrito configuration exposes the mattress, which is bare. She never even bothered to put sheets on the bed.

At least she’s still here. Honestly, I half expected Ash to disappear before I woke up… like a member of the fae, which is what she looks like to me. Honey blond hair. Impossibly symmetrical features with high cheekbones, china blue eyes, rosebud lips. She isfreakishlybeautiful. And also quirky and friendly, with an essence seemingly made of smoke. On move-in day, one minute, she was putting knick-knacks on her dresser and chatting up a storm, the next, she was gone for two months.

“Hey?” I say, testing out whether the blazing light has woken her, too.

“Hmm?” The response comes from somewhere deep in her blanket cocoon.

“Are you back?” My voice is hoarse from not having had enough time to wake up.

A slim hand grabs the curtain and pulls it across the window. Thank God.

Ash rolls over to face me. “Oh, hey. Sorry I woke you up and scared you when I came in. Couldn’t remember which bed was mine. Did you move the furniture around?”

Around where? The room is too small for any other configuration.

“No.”

Looking at the plastic tower of drawers at the end of my bed, she narrows her eyes. “Is there more stuff in here?”

“Uh… No.”

As she bursts out laughing, she smacks her heel against the mattress for emphasis. “Wow, I guess it’s been too long.”

A small smile of acknowledgment forms. “Nine weeks.”

She sits up, revealing an oversize black graphic t-shirt with a monster truck emerging from a cloud of dust. “You’ve had the room all to yourself till now. Would it suck if I wanted to move back in here?”

“Backin?” I mumble. “Your bed doesn’t even have sheets.”

After a shared glance, we crack up laughing.

When the laughter fades, I shrug, still smiling. “It’s your room, too. You’re still paying for it.”

With a shrug and a devilish smirk, she leans forward. “Well, Scotty is anyway.” Rolling toward the wall, she digs a giant purse out from where it fell off the bed.

“Scotty?”

“My brother.”

“Wow. Your brother’s paying your room and board at GU? He must’ve beenreallyimpressed when you got in.” I feel a pinch of envy over the fact that she has a brother who gives a shit about her future. That’s something I’ll never have.

“Impressed? Nah, Scotty’s a genius, so he takes academic success for granted. He wanted me to come to Granthorpe because it’s only a couple of hours from his house.”

“So he could keep an eye on you?”

“No. Well, maybe,” she says with a smirk. “Big brother vibes for sure. But no, he would’ve paid for me to go wherever I chose. He just didn’t want me to go away because he would’ve missed me. If he could, Scotty would have the entire family lined up in houses on the same block as his. I tease him he should’ve been a cult leader so he could start a commune.” She laughs merrily and rolls her eyes. “As if.”

Her brother wanted her to go to GU because otherwisehe would’ve missed her.I can’t even imagine that being a factor in a family’s decision-making. I’m at Granthorpe because Allendales go to Granthorpe. And they come here because they believe it’s the finest university in the country. If I hadn’t gotten in, after my expensive prep school education and their investment in a college admissions consultant, the fallout would’ve been severe.

Ash’s hands delve frantically through the contents of her bag and then she lets out a small shriek of joy and holds aloft a package of partially smashed raspberry Zingers. “I’m so hungry.” She tears open the plastic wrapper and slides the squished processed pastries free. “Here. Split them with me.”

My face scrunches in distaste. “No thanks.”