Page 31 of Riot Rules

Mara says, “Thepill?”

Presley looks like she’s about to die of embarrassment. “Okay. Yeah. So what? I write fanfic. It’s not like I publish it online or anything. The only person that reads it is Sarah, and she’d never show it to anyone.”

“You’re skipping the part where your mom put you on birth control, Pres,” Mara repeats.

“Why’s that such a big deal?You’reboth on the pill.”

“We are, you’re right. ButIhave a lot of sex, and Carrie’s periods were all jacked up. Why wouldyouneed to go on the pill because of some story you wrote?”

For all her experience and street-smarts, Mara can be a little dense sometimes. “Because the story was full of sex,” I say. “Graphic sex. And Pres’ mom doesn’t want her only daughter getting knocked up at high school. And…oh…oh no.Presley. What’s your fanfic about? Tell me it doesn’t star a guy named Pax?”

“No,” she says haughtily. “His name, if you must know, isDax, and the whole story is completely unrelated to my life here at Wolf Hall.” If this is how she sounded when she tried to sell this lie to her mother, it’s no wonder she’s now on birth control.

Mara’s eyes dance with mischief. She leans closer to Pres conspiratorially. “What color is the girl’s hair in this story of yours, you little tramp?”

“It’s red. Whatever! Stop laughing! Red hair is far more common than you think!”

“I want to read this outrageous work of smut,” Mara declares.

“No. No way. Absolutely not.” Pres shakes her head so violently that she nearly shakes herself right out of her seat. “Mom made me delete the emails anyway. They’re gone now.”

“I’m not as gullible as your mom, friend. You fish that shit out of the trash folder this instant.”

“No!”

Poor Presley. Since freshman year, we’ve been strongarmed and coerced into giving Mara whatever Mara wants, and doing whatever Mara wants. It’s admirable that she’s sticking up for herself and saying no this time, but I’m also wondering how long it’ll last. When Mara sets her sights on something, she’s like a dog with a bone; she won’t give up.

“Excuse me.”

I look up and my breath saws out of me. My smile disappears. Wren Jacobi is standing next to our table with a takeaway coffee cup in his hand and he’s looking right atme. My tongue feels like it’s made of sandpaper. His eyes are an unsettling shade of green—so vivid, they don’t look real. A random feather pokes out of the breast pocket of his midnight black button-down shirt. “Carina, right?” He slants his head on an angle, like he’s an alien, still trying to figure out how human body language works.

“Uhh…Wren?” Mara waves a hand in front of my face, trying to get his attention. He turns a look on her so blank that it sends a chill up my spine. Mara beams coquettishly, though, choosing to ignore it. “Oh, hi. Yeah, remember me? I’m the girl you’ve been texting with. Mara? We’re going on a date tonight. You invited me to hang out?”

Wren looks confused. He takes a sip out of his coffee cup. “I know who you are.”

“Okay. So…?” Mara shrugs, holding her hands in the air. “What are you doing? Why are you hitting on my friend right in front of me?”

A warped bark of laughter flies out of his mouth. “Hitting on her? I’m not hitting on her. I asked her if her name was Carina.”

“You know it is,” I say through clenched teeth. “What do you want, Wren?”

His gaze moves back to me, suddenly more focused. “Nothing much. I just realized that we didn’t really know each other, you and I. What’s your story?”

“What’s mystory?” If I sound at all incredulous, it’s because I fucking am.

“Yeah. Where are you from? Why are you here? Are your parents military?”

Okay, what’s going on right now?I ask the question in my head. Mara asks it out loud. “Hey! Jacobi! What the fuck? You haven’t asked me a single question about myself. You’re givingCarriethe third degree, and you’re somehownothitting on her?”

“I already know everything I need to know about you.”

She throws herself back into her chair. “Is that so? Where doIcome from, then? Why amIhere? Aremyparents military?”

“None of that’s relevant.”

“Why not?” Her voice is three octaves too high; the people at the table next to us are looking.

“Because you’ve made your intentions perfectly clear.” He points his coffee cup at her. “You want me to fuck you. You want my dick in your mouth and my fingers in your pussy.That’sall I need to know aboutyou.”