But still, an awful, heavy feeling of failure and dread settled in over her shoulders. All the other taps had completed their tasks, and she hadn’t even come up with a plan to execute hers. She’d been hoping for a miracle—for some kind of reprieve. But now it was clear that reprieve wasn’t going to come. And if she wanted to measure up to her fellow taps, she was not only going to have to complete her task, but she was going to have to do it soon.
Ariana’s eyes found Palmer in the crowd, and he gave her a private smile of encouragement for her turn. Her heart thumped painfully as she wondered if, after she finished her task, he would ever smile at her like that again.
THE POWER
Ariana lay back on her bed, her heart pounding bile through her veins. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, counting slowly to ten. Then she pushed herself up and slipped her phone out from behind the seasonal mum atop her dresser. She had bought the potted flower that afternoon at the APH bookshop, which was chock-full of autumnal decorations these days, but she hadn’t felt very festive doing so. Her fingers trembling, she stopped the recording and quickly played it back.
There she was, staring at the camera, the picture so clear she could see her ice-blue eyes. She should have felt gratified. This was going to work. But she hated that it was going to work.
Taking another deep breath, Ariana erased the ten-second video to make more room on the digital card. She carefully replaced the phone in its hiding spot, then sat down on her bed to wait, kneading her fingers in her lap.
You have to do this. There’s no other way. If you want to be in Stone and Grave, you must complete this task.
An image of Lexa’s smirking face flashed through her mind and Ariana’s fingers curled so quickly, her nails cut into her palms. The very idea that she was going to do this to Palmer just because of some sadistic vendetta Lexa had against her made her blood boil. Palmer and Lexa had broken up weeks ago. And Lexa had a new amazing boyfriend. Why couldn’t she just let Palmer go? Was she trying to make sure he never dated again?
Calm down. It wasn’t necessarily her, Ariana reminded herself. April was always a possibility. She was the girls’ pledge educator. She was supposed to be in charge of Hell Week, along with Conrad. It might have been her job to figure out what each of the girls would have to do. But if so, what was she thinking, making one of the taps humiliate one of the active members?
It was Lexa. It had to be Lexa. Ariana knew she was just fooling herself thinking otherwise.
There was a quick rap on the door and Ariana’s breath caught. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and held it. In a few minutes this would all be over.
Just breathe, Ariana.
In, one . . . two . . . three . . .
Out, one . . . two . . . three . . .
She opened her eyes, reached over, and hit the record button on her phone. Her hands were perfectly still. She got up, walked to the door, and opened it. Palmer was wearing a blue APH sweatshirt and his eyes were bright.
“I got your note,” he said, holding up the scrap of paper between two fingers. “‘Let’s make up for the other night?’”
Ariana opened her mouth to greet him, but her airway was choked off by guilt. So instead she grabbed him by the front of his sweatshirt, the embroidered letters crushed inside her fist, and pulled him to her. Palmer tripped forward in surprise, but met her lips in a kiss. Ariana reached behind him and slammed the door. She backed toward her bed, kissing him all the while, then turned around and shoved him down, so that his back was to the bed, and his face would be clear to the camera.
Palmer looked up at her, surprised, but clearly pleased. Ariana could practically see him through the view screen on her phone—see how perfectly he was framed, how clear his face was in the picture. Swallowing back the nauseated feeling rising up in her throat, Ariana lay down on top of him, but quickly rolled off to the right side so that her back was to the wall. So that she wasn’t blocking the camera’s view of his face.
Palmer smiled, his eyes never leaving hers. He reached his hand up, cupped her face, and gently kissed her. Ariana’s fingers clenched. He was so sweet. So gentle. So freaking unsuspecting.
I can’ t do this. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.
But you have to. You must. You must get into Stone and Grave.
Ariana steeled herself. There was a task at hand. All she had to do was complete the task. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. It would all be over if she could just get through the next few minutes. And a few minutes were really all she had. The digital card on her phone would be full before she knew it.
She pulled back, sat up, and tore off her sweater, revealing the skimpy tank top underneath. Palmer smiled and took his shirt off too, showing off his very ripped chest and stomach. The next ten minutes were a blur. Ariana kept trying to concentrate on Palmer, kept trying to shove her own betrayal into the back of her mind. But she couldn’t do it. All she could think about while he kissed her and touched her and undressed her was the fact that a camera was running. The fact that someone in Stone and Grave was going to demand to see the recording. Someone else—possibly Lexa—was going to watch every second of what was happening.
Unless . . .
Did it really have to be every second?
Ariana pulled back from Palmer’s kisses.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, breathless.
“Nothing. I just . . . I forgot. Lillian’s supposed to be back soon,” Ariana said, yanking her shirt over her head and rolling away from Palmer.
“Seriously?” he asked, sitting up. His face was flushed and he was practically panting. Ariana was flattered by the fact that he was so attracted to her that he was already that far gone.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I totally forgot,” Ariana said as she smoothed her hair. “Can we go back to your room?”