She offered me a smile of her own, the glow of flickering flames highlighting her face. “Girl, it’s what I’m here for. To lift you up and set you straight.”
Grayson blinked at Mads. “Are you done yet?”
Mads rolled her eyes.
“Okay, fine,” I surrendered. “Let’s go out. Give me ten minutes. And I better not get abducted or beat up tonight, clear?”
“So that leaves room for shot or buried alive,” Micah joked.
Mads whacked Micah on the back of the head. “You’re a morbid asshole.”
“Damn, Clarke. Lay off the weights.” He rubbed at the back of his skull and then ruined any sympathy he might have received by winking at her.
Dumbass. He never learned.
Before I changed my mind, I made a quick trip upstairs into Kenna’s room, only to realize I didn’t have shit to wear. Brock had given Grayson the few items I left at his house, but it consisted mostly of stuff to wear to school and lounging items for the weekend. All of my actual clothes were still at the Pattersons’.
Chewing on my lips, I stared at the closet doors, mulling over the idea of borrowing something from Kenna.
“She won’t mind, you know,” a voice said from the doorway. Mads walked into the room, the black jeans she wore hugging her curves as threw open the closet door. The deep purple sweater hung off one of her shoulders, flashing a bit of ivory skin. Mads always looked good and ready to kick someone’s ass. She had this rich girl rebel quality only she could pull off. All the other girls at the Academy were so prissy, like they grew up thinking the movieCluelesswas the holy grail.
“It just feels like I’d be invading her privacy,” I admitted.
“She’s your sister. It’s like a rite of passage or something to borrow her shit.” Mads scanned through the racks of hanging clothes. “Now, let's see. There has to be something in there that would suit your tastes…” She continued to comb through the soft pink sweaters, the ivory shirts, and cute skirts until she came across something black. “Here we go. Put this on and grab a pair of jeans. She has like a hundred of them.”
Padding into the adjoined bathroom, I quickly changed into the black sweater that was intentionally shredded in random spots and slid into a pair of dark, buttery jeans, feeling almost more like myself.
Mads eyed me with approval as I stepped out. “See. That shirt was made for you.”
“I can’t see Kenna wearing this.” I touched the hem of the knitted material. All her other clothes were so preppy.
“She bought it for Halloween, I think. Never wore it. Didn’t get the chance.” Mads reached into the vanity, pulling out a tube of mascara and eyeliner. “Close your eyes,” she stated with a grin, pulling off the cap on the eyeliner.
I obeyed. Having Mads help me get ready reminded me so much of Ainsley. I missed her like crazy. I couldn’t look at eyeliner without thinking of my best friend. Since the whole Carter incident, things between us had grown distant. I knew it was safer for her this way, to not get mixed up in this mess, but she was that piece of my old life I refused to let go of.
“Open,” Mads instructed, pulling me from my somber thoughts.
She applied a thick coat of mascara to my lashes. “It will be okay,” she said. “You will find a new normal. I did, because of you.”
“Mads,” I said softly, blinking.
Screwing the cap back onto the tube, she said, “You have no idea how much I needed a friend, needed you, even if you look just like my other best friend.”
A low laugh escaped me. “You’re gonna make me cry.”
“Not tonight. Tonight we dance our asses off.”
* * *
The party turned out to be at Brock’s. Go figure.
There was something calm and reassuring about coming back to his house, like a haven, despite the place being overrun with teenagers, most of whom I recognized, including a few I’d like to hit with a baseball bat. Like my archenemy—Ava Whitmore.
Now that I was here… what did I plan to do?
“Do you want to leave?” Mads asked like the good friend she was, noticing what caused the sudden deep scowl on my lips. “We could take this party elsewhere. Somewhere less… skankish.”
I thought about it, and to be honest, my gut reaction urged me to do just that, but then another thought snuck in. Sometimes my brain scared the shit out of me. This was one of those times. “Nah. This gives me the opportunity I’ve been waiting for, but I’ll need your help. I have a bitch to take down.” Getting the shit beat out of me sucked, but what Mads said earlier struck a chord within me. I refused to shrink or run out of the room every time I laid eyes on Ava. I would not give her precisely what she wanted. Fuck no. I’d do what she’d least expect.