Page List


Font:  

“I might what?”

“Still go to your dream school.”

“NYU?”

“Thatisyour dream school, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but remember I told you that I can’t go?” I sigh. “They don’t accept reform school students and I sure as hell don’t have the money to go if they did accept me anyway.”

He gives me an inscrutable look that I think is weird.

But before I can dwell on it, he breaks my gaze and looks over my shoulder.

“Still the only non-pink thing in your room,” he murmurs, his eyes riveted on something.

I don’t have to turn around to know exactly what he’s staring at.

It’s my diary.

It sits in the middle of my pink bed much like it did two years ago; I was writing in it before I decided to text him.

He brings his eyes back to me, all shiny and dark. “Still call it Bandit?”

I knew he was going to ask me that.

I knew it.

But still I wasn’t prepared for the pounding of my heart at his question. And also embarrassment.

This strange pinch in my chest, because I don’t.

Idon’tcall my diary by that name, not anymore.

If he’d asked me this two days ago, I would’ve bragged about it. I would’ve happily told him that no, I’m not that stupid anymore. I am plenty stupid but notthatstupid.

But now, tonight, I don’t want him to know.

I don’t want to tell him.

But somehow he already knows. “Nah, you wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

His gaze is penetrating. “Because you probably figured it out.”

I know what ‘it’ is but I still ask, “Figured what out?”

“That some bad things can’t be reformed. Some bad things have no good in them. They stay bad forever.”

I ache now.

Or rather I achemorethan I already did.

Before he so suddenly came here.

And I can’t help but ask, “Where are you staying?”

He frowns at the sudden change of subject.


Tags: Saffron A. Kent St. Mary's Rebels Romance