Twisted Palace(99)

She flinches as if I’ve hit her. “Reed,” she whispers. “I…I really miss you, okay? I miss us.”

Oh shit. Discomfort wedges into every crevice in my chest. What the hell do I even say to that? We broke up more than a year ago.

“Everything okay here?”

Saved by Satan.

I’ve never been more relieved to see Jordan Carrington in my life, and maybe that’s why I lay a hand on my date’s arm as if she’s actually my date.

“Everything’s fine,” I say tersely.

But Abby viciously shakes her head. For the first time since I’ve known her, pure anger blazes in her eyes. “Everything is not fine!” she snaps at Jordan, and it’s also the first time I’ve ever heard her raise her voice. “I can’t believe you came with him tonight! How could you, Jordan?”

Her friend doesn’t even blink. “I already explained why I—”

“Because of your stupid image?” Abby is seething, her cheeks redder than apples. “Because you want to be crowned the queen of some stupid dance? I told you I didn’t want you to go with him, and you totally ignored my feelings! What kind of friend does that? And who cares about your stupid social status!” She’s shrieking now, and nearly the whole room is staring at us. “I was with Reed because I love him, not because it helped my reputation!”

Again, Jordan is unfazed. “You’re making a scene, Abigail.”

“I don’t care!”

We all cringe at the deafening pitch of her voice.

“You don’t deserve him!” Abby yells between panted breaths. “And neither do you!”

It takes me a second to realize that Ella is at my other side.

“Why did you have to move here?” Abby growls at Ella. “Reed and I were doing fine before you got here! And then you showed up in your cheap clothes and your trashy makeup and your…your…whore ways—”

Jordan snickers.

“—and you ruined everything! I hate you.” Her desperate, furious gaze swings back to me. “And I hate you, too, Reed Royal. I hope you rot in jail for the rest of your stupid life!”

Abby finishes in a breathless rush.

Silence has fallen over the room. Every pair of eyes is glued to my unhinged ex-girlfriend. When she realizes it, she releases a horrified gasp and slaps a hand over her mouth.

Then she runs right out the door, her pink fairy princess dress flapping behind her.

“Well.” Jordan sounds amused. “I always knew she wasn’t the meek little thing she pretended to be.”

Ella and I don’t respond. I stare at the doorway Abby just barreled through, a weird lump of pity forming in my throat.

“Should we go after her?” Ella finally asks, but she doesn’t sound like she wants to.

“No,” Jordan answers for me, her tone haughty and her head held high. She possessively clutches my arm and yanks me away from Ella. “Come on, Reed. I want to dance. It’ll be good practice for when we’re crowned king and queen.”

I’m still too stunned by Abby’s outburst to protest, so I just led Jordan lead me away.





32





Reed





“So. That was…intense,” Ella murmurs when we walk into my bedroom a couple of hours later.

I stare at her. Intense? Talk about an understatement.

This entire night was a disaster, starting with the photos Jordan and her parents made me pose for and ending with Abby falling apart in front of a room full of people. I almost fell over in relief when Jordan didn’t press me about taking her to the after party. I guess the stupid Snowflake Queen tiara was enough to satisfy her, and luckily I didn’t even have to participate in the nausea-inducing king and queen waltz, because Wade beat me out for the king title. The only highlight of the night was watching Wade grope Jordan’s ass during their big dance, while she kept hissing for him to stop.

Ella and I were able to escape by ten o’clock, and since Steve’s not picking her up until eleven, we have an entire hour of alone time. But we’re both a little shell-shocked as we sit side by side on the edge of my bed.

“I feel really fucking bad for her,” I admit.

“Abby?”

I nod.

“Well, you shouldn’t,” Ella says bluntly. “I hate to say this, but I think Abby might be a tad delusional.”

I sigh. “A tad?”

“Okay, a lot delusional.” Ella squeezes my hand. “But it’s not your fault. You broke up with her. You haven’t led her on since. She’s the one who isn’t able to move on.”

“I know.” But I still can’t erase the image of Abby’s grief-stricken eyes from my mind.