Sweet Nothing(16)

“That whole family is a disaster,” Waverly says. “The son is rude, the father got caught in a sleazy motel in D.C. last year with his pants down—literally—and the wife just finished her third stint in rehab.”

My blood runs cold.

“Third time’s the charm,” Gwen muses.

“Please. Rehab doesn’t work on a woman like that. She basically uses it for an extended vacation.” Waverly rolls her eyes.

I stare past her, my eyes unfocused. I want to stop the memory, but it comes anyway.



—Mom? I was ten, standing in the doorway to the library on the second floor of our Upper East Side apartment. It was the middle of the night, and my eyes were stitched with the laces of sleep. I could see my mother’s shadowy outline behind my father’s desk, in front of the fireplace. The chandelier was dim.

—Yes, baby, mama’s home. She always referred to herself this way—mama—even though Aria and I never did. She tried to get up, but was unsteady on her feet. Even at such a young age, I knew enough to think: already?

—Come give your mama a kiss, Elle belle! Her voice was too thick, too deliberate. There was a nearly empty crystal decanter on the desk in front of her. No glass. I wanted to turn around, to call for my father, but I knew better.

—Did the doctors make you better, Mom?

—You mean the shrinks? She waved the air as if she smelled something rotten. Heads up their asses. Now come here, baby. Mama’s missed you.



“Hello?” Gwen’s waving her palm in front of my face, bringing me back. “Earth to Ellie.”

“Sorry.” My face grows warm. “Spaced out for a second.”

Gwen’s eyes linger, concerned. But Waverly barely notices.

“In other news,” she announces slyly, “I heard you had a visit from the one and only Luke Poulos this morning.”

“Get out.” Gwen’s jaw drops.

“Where did you—how did you know that?” I’m trying for nonchalant. But I can tell by the grins on the girls’ faces that I’m flunking miserably. Even the sound of Luke’s name warms me.

“Vi Miller is in my second period.” Waverly looks proud. “That’s one thing I will say about these kids: if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t know half of what goes on around here.”

Gwen nods. “You can pretty much be sure that if a student hears about this kind of thing, it’ll go campus-wide by the end of the day.”

“There’s no thing,” I argue. I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face if I wanted to. “He’s just my faculty mentor, so he was coming by to check on me.”

“Faculty mentor? Or ‘faculty mentor’? Pleased with her air quotes, Waverly fist-bumps Gwen.

“Quit,” I laugh. “Seriously. He’s just a nice guy and he wanted to make sure I was doing okay.”

“Whatever you say.” Waverly bites her lip thoughtfully. “But if you’re not interested, I might be.”

I bristle. I can’t have Luke, I know that. But Waverly would be my last pick for a stand-in.

“Plus, he’s just really nice,” Gwen adds. “Lucky. You must have done something pretty amazing in a previous life.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Waverly scoffs. “Just because Luke Poulos is into her?”

“Hello? I’m right here.” Actually, I agree that karma is a real force, something that keeps us accountable for our actions. But karma can’t be in play here. Not when a guy like Luke just waltzes into my life. Nobody deserves that kind of good fortune. Especially not me.

Now that I know the girls know Luke, I have a million questions. None of which I can ask without giving myself away. Does he have a girlfriend? Is he really as nice as he seems, or is it just an act? And what was in the gold envelope he’d slipped to me during first period?

The envelope. I’d been so exhausted, so distracted by my meeting with Dr. Goodwin, that I’d completely forgotten to open the envelope.

“I’ve got to run inside for a second.”

“But we haven’t decided what we want to do for dinner. And I don’t feel like cooking,” Waverly pouts.

“When have you EVER felt like cooking?” Gwen asks.

“I mean, I don’t feel like calling for takeout. It’s your turn.”

Gwen sighs. “Chinese?”

“Sounds great,” I say hurriedly. “I’ll be right back.” I slip inside and dig through my bag until I find the envelope. Run my fingers over the edge of the flap. Wait for a few seconds. I’ve always been this way, even as a kid. I was never one to tear into presents on my birthday. I liked the moments before opening the gift the best. When anything was possible.