Mel laughed. "No, Einstein. His father donated three million to the university, and they named a building after him."
My stomach tanked. Oh. That Knightly.
I'd researched the family last year. They owned a bunch of land all over the western United States. If they weren't chopping down forests, they were damming up rivers, leasing their land to strip miners who bulldozed everything, or selling out to drillers for the latest earth-killing craze: fracking.
"Oh, frack," I muttered.
My gaze left Mel and moved out the window again. Henry Knightly was buffing the side of that shiny black car with an elbow.
It's worth more than your life … His words echoed in my ears, causing earlier thoughts of his hotness to melt like the polar ice caps.
"Precisely what this university does not need," I said. "Another rich kid zooming around in his gas-guzzling sports car, and probably going to school tuition free because his father was a legacy."
"What?"
"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "It's just … Stanford isn't cheap, Mel. My three jobs are barely keeping me afloat, and my parents have never paid a dime of my school costs. My mom can't afford it, and I haven't spoken to my father in years." I pointed toward the window. "Here comes this guy, probably studying to be a high-flying business mogul while riding Daddy's coattails. Kind of unfair, don't you think?"
"He's in law school, Springer. And no financial aid."
"Oh," I said, frowning.
"What's that look for?" Mel took my chin in her hand. "Are you disappointed that you don't already have a justifiable reason to hate Henry Knightly?"
My mouth opened, ready to deny this. But as always, Mel was pretty dead-on. I didn't know this guy, and the loathing in the pit of my stomach wasn't exactly hard evidence against him. Even though his connection to Lilah Charleston was pretty damning on its own.
"He went to Duke too," Mel said, fluffing the back of her hair. "That's where he met Dart when they were freshmen. They were roommates, played ball together. They've been best friends for years."
Julia suddenly unthawed. I'd almost forgotten she was there, as still as Venus de Milo. "Mel," she said, "how the hell do you know all this?"
I snickered, always loving it when Lady Julia swore.
"I will never reveal my sources," Mel said.
Dart reappeared in the front yard. He walked over to Henry Knightly, who was on his cell. It was evident that Dart wanted to talk to him, but his roommate held up an index finger in a curt "silence, I am already speaking" fashion.
"Is it going to absolutely kill you?" Mel asked, picking at a nail. "Living across the street from him?"
"Nope," I answered, my eyes fixed on my dark-haired neighbor as he turned around, pressing buttons on his phone. He slid his sunglasses to the top of his head, giving me another very clear view. I couldn't help moving a couple inches toward the glass. "His presence isn't going to affect me in the least-"
My head jerked back when Knightly suddenly looked up at the window, zeroing in on me. When he took a step forward, I drew away from the glass and spun around.
"I … " I cleared my throat. "I'll probably never speak to him."
"Not even tonight at the party?" Mel asked, catching the tail end of my reaction, then peering outside. I hoped the guy wasn't still staring up.
"Especially not tonight," I said firmly, toying with a handful of braids.
Mel glanced from the window to me, then snickered under her breath. "You keep telling yourself that."
I didn't like the way she was grinning.
Chapter 2
"I don't see him." Julia clutched my arm so tightly that I was losing feeling from the elbow down.
Mel flanked my other side. "How's my breath?" she asked, then exhaled in my face like only a best friend could.
"Like ponies and rainbows," I reported.
As we approached the street known as Party Cul-de-sac, I could hear it was packed, simply by the shrieks from flirty girls. Just for tonight, I didn't mind joining the crowd of two hundred other students ready to celebrate a fresh beginning.
Chinese lanterns lit the perimeter of the street while blinking white fairy lights wrapped around all trees, telephone poles, and street signs. Friends, classmates, and colleagues we hadn't seen since June greeted us as our threesome, arms linked, made our way through the crowd.
Despite the chilliness in the air after the sun went down, Julia wore a lemon-yellow spaghetti-strap sundress. Then there was the modish dark-haired, dark-eyed, black-clad Melanie on my other side. They probably would have made a more impressive entrance had I not been between them.
The white cotton peasant top I sported came from my favorite consignment shop in San Francisco. My jeans were faded to a sky-blue; their threadbare hems and holes further endeared to me. For tonight, I also chose to wear my one pair of silver dangly earrings.
It was a rarity, but my festive mood swelled, something about the start of a school year. I knocked my hip against Mel's, and we shared an animated smile.
"Spring," said Julia, "I still don't see him anywhere."
"Who?"
"Dart!"
Ahhh, right.
"He might not be coming," I said as we passed by the DJ corner. The guy behind the barricade held a single earphone up to one ear. His other hand moved between a laptop and an equalizer, body rocking to the beat. "He looked pretty conventional, Jules. This party might be too bohemian."
Julia's grip on my arm went slack, my opinion apparently making her depressed. I wished I could have offered a kinder excuse, but instead sealed my lips. Better she was disappointed about Dart Charleston now than crushed later. Any acquaintance of Lilah was bad news for us.
My lab partner from last semester called out from a few feet away. I waved back. She held a red Solo cup over her head. I waved it off. No drinking for me, thanks.
"Oh, I love this song!" Mel exclaimed. Not two seconds later, she was swept away by a tall stranger in a Kappa Alpha T-shirt. I laughed, watching her disappear into the sea of people.
Then I spotted Lilah.
Dressed in the latest fashionable finery, she blew Hollywood kisses to people she passed. Her shoulder-length bleached hair was straight as a razor, perfectly framing the conspicuous year-round tan on her angular face, light eyes behind dark and heavy eye makeup, and the reddest lips this side of Taylor Swift. Surprisingly, no leather.
Dart was beside her, smiling ear-to-ear, nodding to strangers like he was actually enjoying himself. Huh. So maybe I was wrong about that. He was much cuter up close. His light hair was tousled yet tidy, and his pale eyes were radiant, mirroring another similar set of eyes right next to me.
I peeked at Julia, who had also spotted him. Beautiful, blushing color swept across her face as she zeroed in on him.
Oh, boy. Heaven help poor D'Artagnan Charleston.
She whispered to me in second-year French, her words tumbling from her mouth too quickly for her twisted American tongue. The only coherent message I could make out was that I must promise not to leave her side.
"Calme toi!" I replied, patting her arm. "I'm not going anywhere, bunny. Stay cool."
The dark shadow a few steps behind the siblings, I guessed, was Henry Knightly. None of them was turned our way, but the next thing I knew, Lilah made a hard left and stood directly before us. She looked me dead in the eyes without the slightest hint of recognition, then set her gaze on Julia, giving her the crustiest up-down dismissive glare before turning to talk to whomever stood beside us.
Being this close to Lilah outside of class-in the wild!-made a ball of heat churn in my stomach.
After an appropriate amount of time passed, she looked our way again. "Oh. Hey, Spring," she said in that low, sultry voice she'd been honing. "Didn't see you there."
I boldly held my stance, even though I wanted nothing more than to walk away from the scene.
"I never would have recognized you," she continued.
"Nice to see you, Lilah," I lied. "How has your first week been?"
"Oh, you know, I'm chairing this club and I'm president of that union … "
As she droned on, I stole a glance at Julia. She'd lowered her chin, probably not knowing where to look and not wanting to say anything, fearing Lilah would twist it in some malicious way. For that, I wanted to clock Lilah squarely across her collagen-injected mouth. It was fine for her to have it in for me, but she had no excuse to hate Julia. My sweet, guileless roommate didn't understand girls like Lilah, girls who were mean for no reason.