I want to watch Georgia smile. I want to see Tyson finally show Presley the real him. I want to see Afton and Elana take Caroline under their wing, much like they did for me. I want to see Aubrey get my brother away from Campbell. I want to see Sebastian stop fighting so much.
I want to see the Devils become something better.
Collins actually ends the entire dance, just like that. He instructs the staff to turn the lights up and bathes us all in the blinding gym fluorescents, ordering us to go home. Most of the students look annoyed at this, but they’re also so cau
ght up in the melodrama of the reveal that their protests don’t last long.
As we leave the gym, Georgia, Caroline, and Ben walk up.
“I wish you could have seen their faces, you guys,” Georgia’s words come out in a rush. They’d all been assigned to the Preston House. “The alumni were hilarious. They didn’t even know what to do. Most of them were stunned. A few of the older ones just seemed annoyed, but there were a few who actually looked impressed. A couple were even laughing!”
“Don’t forget the ones who were so drunk they didn’t even notice,” Ben adds.
Caroline snorts. “Or out back smoking cigars. God, they’re so disgusting. But all in all, it went off without a hitch.”
“Collins looked like his head was going to explode,” Afton says, eyes shining in wicked glee. “Elana and I were up near the stage and he was swearing and making threats. Someone,” she gives my brother, who’s all the way across the quad, an exaggerated look, “cut his microphone during the video.”
“I wondered why he was so quiet,” Tyson says, grinning ear to ear.
I jump in, “Em was on the drama crew in tenth grade for extra credit. He ran the sound board.”
“The stickers were perfect,” Aubrey says, looking at me in particular. “It looked like every single person had one on.”
“I just hope no one calls me looking for their raffle prize,” I say, falling into giggles. The whole thing feels like walking on air. I glance at Reyn across our little huddle and he smiles back.
While everyone talks, my phone won’t stop buzzing with videos and notifications about the prank. I have a feeling the next few days are going to be wild, and as if the gods want to show me proof, we start across the quad and abruptly stop.
The branches of the massive old oaks are strung with toilet paper, large looping sheets that hang down like tendrils. Dewey storms around, yelling into a walkie-talkie. As a group, we burst into laughter.
“I guess the boys did a god job distracting Dewey and Buster,” Afton dryly notes.
I fall in stride with Reyn, arms brushing. I look up and find him looking down at me. He’s been really quiet tonight. Well, he’s usually pretty quiet. But right now, everything is loud and happy, and why shouldn’t we be, too?
I slip my hand into his, heedless of the people around us. His steps falter briefly, but he quickly recovers, sending me a curious glance as he squeezes my hand.
I notice when his eyes jump in Emory’s direction. “Everyone here already knows. What can it hurt?”
We stop when the group does, all of them huddling around Sebastian’s muscle car. I spot the car’s owner and Carlton leaning against the hood, both sweaty and dirty. They look like they’ve been having the time of their life. A strip of toilet paper clings to Carlton’s shoe.
Reyn reaches up to brush one of my curls from my temple. “You should leave first.”
I watch him, head tilting. “Why?”
His jaw twitches. “I just don’t want you around for what comes next.”
“What comes next?”
He looks toward Emory again, but instead of answering, he gives me a tight smile. “Apparently, there are plans.”
Before I can ask what that means, Carlton yells out, “Yo, Reyn!” and waves him over, hands flapping around.
Reyn lets out this little laugh before touching my chin. “Just trust me, okay?”
I let his hand go slowly, reluctantly, our fingertips dragging until the hold breaks. All of our phones shake with notifications. Caroline takes hers out first and we all tumble like dominoes. It’s too hard to resist, looking at our success; video after video, photo after photo. The whole thing is documented. I feel a slight weight off my shoulders. The resurgence of the Devils is out there, and I didn’t need to publish anything to accomplish it.
“Oh, fuck,” Afton mutters to herself. I look up and see her share her phone with Elana. Elana’s eyes dart to Reyn, then to me, her lips parted in surprise. My phone buzzes in my hand and I look down. It’s Sydney’s profile. The first picture I see is of Reyn, dressed in his suit, his bowtie perfectly straight. It’s dark, but light enough to tell the Devil’s Tower is right behind him.
The second one is a picture of Reyn and Sydney, leaned in close. His neck is bent down and she’s straining up. It’s not the greatest photo—a little blurry, kind of dark. But there’s absolutely no mistaking what their mouths are doing.