I make a decision.
“All right. I’ll go, but I’m not staying late. I have class tomorrow afternoon.”
“On a Saturday?”
“It’s an extra class. Not mandatory, but I signed up anyway.”
Wow, what a terrible excuse! I’m the worst liar in the world. I should have just said I needed to help deliver a giraffe calf.
But she doesn’t seem to notice. “Want me to swing by and pick you up at your apartment?” she asks, because she knows I don’t drive.
“Uh . . .no,” I answer quickly, thinking of the six bodyguards who follow me everywhere. “I can take a cab. Just text me the address. What time are you getting there? I don’t want to be alone, not knowing anyone. I’m only going because of you.”
“Around eight. Text me when you’re leaving home and we’ll agree on a meeting spot.”
“All right,” I say, still unsure. I’m not a coward, but I really hope I’m not making a mistake by going to this party.
Minutes later, I walk out of the building where I study. A bodyguard follows me discreetly, even though his standard outfit (suit, tie, and dark sunglasses) draws plenty of stares from the other students.
I suggested they dress casually. They ignored me.
When I approach the car, the driver is already waiting with the door open. I also see a second car behind us, with the rest of the security team.
I nod politely and get inside, my head full of thoughts about this party I’m supposedly going to. I have no idea what girls wear to these events, so I grab my phone and look up suggested outfits for different occasions.
When I type “fraternity party,” I’m greeted by images of girls in shorts and miniskirts. Both are extremely short, and besides the fact that I don’t own either, I’m not sure I’d have the courage to show that much skin. I think I’ll stick with trusty old jeans, but I decide to wear a slightly bolder top. It covers my chest completely up to the neck, with a tie detail, but the back is plunging and leaves almost everything exposed. I’ll swap my usual heels for sneakers to give it a more casual vibe.
Feeling more at ease with my choices, I close my eyes and smile.
I’m finally starting to turn my dreams into reality.
That night
I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the urge to cry, but not from sadness. From anger.
Linda wasn’t where we agreed to meet. I’ve walked around the party twice and still haven’t found her.
Oh, I forgot to mention: I ditched the bodyguards. There was no way around it. Rodrick was very clear when he gave a hard no to university parties at that lunch. If I had asked for his permission to go to this one, he would’ve just irritated me and the final result would’ve been the same: he’d still say no.
It wasn’t easy to slip past the guards, but now I know their routine: they sweep my apartment, then stay positioned in the lobby of my building like a mini-army. So I came up with a plan: I dressed like a secret agent—coat and cap—and left through the service exit. When I got here, I ditched the coat on a bench on campus. I hope someone uses it; it was brand new, just like the entire wardrobe I brought to Europe.
I should be having fun right now, but instead I’m furious for trusting the word of someone I barely know.
“I think I know you,” a female voice says beside me.
I almost sigh in relief. If she doesn’t know me, I’ll fix that immediately. I urgently need a friend to stick with at this party. Either that, or I'll give up and leave without seeing anything.
But when I turn to see who’s talking to me, my mood collapses completely.
“I think I know you too, but that’s not necessarily a good thing,” I answer.
Chapter 10
“Wow, are you always this aggressive?”
“Wow, do you always hang around scandalous women who hit on other people’s fiancés? Your friend made an absolute scene at a party about two years ago, even after my brother made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her and that he was engaged. As far as I remember, you were there, cheering that witch on!”
She looks at me, startled but not offended. “You’re Kaled’s sister?”