My screen lights up with another text.
Ava:Creigh was inseparable from He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Looked like they were up to no good.
Cecily:And how do you know that? Have you developed stalker tendencies?
Ava:Bitch, please. I only caught a glimpse of it when I was borrowing something from Bran.
Glyndon:Borrowing something from Bran, huh? *giggling GIF*
Cecily:Leave her be. She said she caught a glimpse. More like glimpses.
Glyndon:Maybe in compromising positions.
Ava:I’m blocking you two.
Ava:Not really, but I might.
My frown deepens, but I choose to remain calm as I change my clothes and then go down the stairs. I keep obsessing over my phone, checking the unread texts over and over.
Just because Creighton is spending time with Eli doesn’t mean he wouldn’t reply.
The more I think about it, the less it makes sense.
I find Mom and Jeremy having breakfast in the garden and whispering among each other.
The moment I approach them, they swiftly push back in their seats, putting an abrupt end to their secret conversation.
I’ve always envied the relationship Jer has with both our parents. Papa sees himself in him and Mom dotes on him as the firstborn. Her angel, as she calls him. She sometimes treats him like her best friend and her confidant.
Apparently, he’s the one who brought my parents together. Something I can never measure up to.
So whenever they’re having their moments like these, I feel left out.
“Morning,” I mutter as I fall onto a chair and pour myself a coffee.
“Morning, baby. Did you sleep well?”
I make an affirmative sound. “Where’s Papa and the others?”
“They went out late last night for some errands.”
Errands? More like to kill people. I shake my head, not wanting to picture that.
Mom fixes me some toast. “Jeremy was just telling me about the rivalry between The King’s U and Royal Elite University. It seems intense.”
“So what of it?” I lose my cool. “Is this another way to convince me to stay away from Creighton for reasons you refuse to divulge? If that’s the case, save it, Mom. I happen to be an REU student, and not once have the people there treated me differently just because I’m an American or a Volkov.”
Jeremy glares at me over the rim of his cup. “Don’t speak to Mom in that tone.”
“You guys are obviously ganging up on me. Did you expect me to lower my head, follow your orders, and just go with it?”
“You have no choice, Anoushka. I spoke to Dad last night and he agrees that you are not allowed to see Creighton King anymore.”
The cup of coffee shakes in my hand and I place it on the table before it falls and shatters. “We agreed that I would talk to him.”
“We only agreed that he’d be informed of the situation, not that either of us would talk to him. Upon returning to Brighton Island, you’ll break up with him or Dad will find you a suitor for marriage.”
I stare at Mom as if I’ve been stabbed in the chest and she’s holding the knife. “You said you wouldn’t let this happen.”