โโฆThen said,ย NEVERย ask Ava to do something like this
again, or I will murder you and your entire family,โ Jules finished dramatically before taking a sip of her caramel mocha.
โShut up.โ Stella leaned forward, her eyes wide. โHe did not say that.โ
โNo, he didnโt.โ I shot Jules a disapproving look. โStop exaggerating.โ
โHow would you know? You were in the bathroom,โ she countered. When my frown deepened, she sighed. โFine. He didnโt say thoseย exactย wordsโat least, not the last part
โbut the general idea was the same. He did warn Owen away from you though.โ Jules ripped off a piece of her cranberry scone and popped it in her mouth.
โPoor Owen.โ Guilt niggled at me as I traced absentminded patterns on the table. Jules, Stella, Bridget, and I were at The Morning Roast for our weekly Tuesday coffee catch-up, and Jules had been regaling the other girls with a hyperbolized account of what happened at Owenโs house on Saturday. โI wish he hadnโt gotten dragged into this. All those hours of shooting, gone.โ
I worked with Owen at the McCann Gallery, where Iโd served as a gallery assistant for the past year and a half. My father had never said outright he disapproved of me
pursuing a photography career, but heโd made it clear that he wouldnโt fund any of my equipment. He paid for my tuition and other school-related expenses, but if I wanted a new lens, camera, or even a tripod? That was all me.
I tried not to let his unspoken disapproval bother me. I was beyond lucky Iโd graduate with no student loan debt, and I wasnโt afraid of hard work. The fact Iโd shelled out my own money for every piece of equipment made me cherish them a little more, and I enjoyed my job at McCann. It was one of the most prestigious photography galleries in the Northeast, and I loved my coworkers, though I wasnโt sure whether Owen would want anything more to do with me after what Alex had done.
Even now, my skin heated with anger at the memory of his overbearing attitude.
I couldnโt believe heโd had the gall to show up and boss me around like that. To threaten my friend. To act like I was aโฆa servant or his employee. Even Josh had never gone that far.
I stabbed at my yogurt with my fork, furious.
โSounds like I missed an interesting time.โ Bridget sighed. โAll the fun stuff happens while Iโm away.โ
Bridget had been attending an event at Eldorraโs New York consulate, as was required of the Princess of Eldorra.
Thatโs right. She was an honest-to-God, real-life princess, second in line to the throne of a small but wealthy European country. She looked the part, too. With her golden hair, deep blue eyes, and elegant bone structure, she couldโve passed for a young Grace Kelly.
I hadnโt known who Bridget was when she, Jules, Stella, and I found ourselves assigned to the same suite freshman year. Besides, I wouldโve expected a freakinโ princess to have a private room.
But that was the great thing about Bridget. Despite her insane upbringing, she was one of the most down-to-earth people Iโd ever met. She never pulled rank, and she
insisted on living life as a normal college student whenever she could. In that sense, Thayer was the best fit for her. Thanks to its proximity to D.C. and its world-class international politics program, the campus swarmed with political offspring and international royalty. Just the other day, Iโd overheard the son of the Speaker of the House and the crown prince of a controversial oil kingdom arguing over video games.
You canโt make that stuff up.
โTrust me, it wasย notย fun,โ I grumbled. โIt was humiliating. And I owe Owen a dinner, at least.โ
My phone flashed with a new text.ย Liam.ย Again.
I swiped away the notification before any of my friends saw it. I wasnโt in the mood to deal with him or his excuses right now.
โAu contraire, I thought it was hilarious.โ Jules finished the rest of her scone. โYou shouldโve seen Alexโs face. He wasย pissed.โ
โHow is that hilarious?โ Stella snapped a photo of her latte art before joining the conversation.
She was a big fashion and lifestyle blogger with over 400,000 Instagram followers, and we were used to her capturing everything for the โGram. Ironically, for someone with such a big social presence, she was the shyest in the group, but she said the โanonymityโ of the Internet made it easier to be herself online.
โDid you hear me? He wasย pissed.โ Jules placed extra emphasis on the last word like it was supposed to mean something.
Bridget, Stella, and I stared at her blankly.
She sighed, obviously exasperated by our lack of comprehension. โWhen was the last time any of us saw Alex Volkov pissed? Or happy? Or sad? The man doesnโt show emotion. Itโs like God gave him extra helpings of gorgeousness and zero doses of human feeling.โ
โI think heโs a psychopath,โ Stella said. She blushed. โNo normal person isย thatย controlled all the time.โ
I was still upset with Alex, but a strange part of me felt compelled to defend him. โYouโve only met him a few times. Heโs not so bad when heโs notโฆโ
โBeing bad?โ Bridget finished.
โAll Iโm saying is, heโs Joshโs best friend, and I trust my brotherโs judgment.โ
Jules snorted. โThis the same brother who wore that hideous rat costume to last yearโs Halloween party?โ
I wrinkled my nose while Bridget and Stella burst into laughter. โI said judgment, notย taste.โ
โSorry, I didnโt mean to upset you.โ Stella tilted her head until her glossy dark curls cascaded over her shoulder. We always joked that she was the United Nations of humans because of her multicultural backgroundโGerman and Japanese on her motherโs side; Black and Puerto Rican on her fatherโs side. The result was five foot eleven inches of leggy limbs, deep olive skin, and catlike green eyes. Supermodel material, if she had any interest in being a supermodel, which she didnโt. โIt was just an observation, but youโre right. I donโt know him well enough to judge. Statement retracted.โ
โIโm not upset. Iโmโฆโ I faltered. What the hell was I doing? Alex didnโt need me defending him. It wasnโt like he was here, listening to us. Even if he were, he wouldnโt care.
If there was one person in the world who didnโt give a shit what others thought of him, it was Alex Volkov.
โGuys, youโre missing the point.โ Jules waved a hand in the air. โThe point is, Alexย didย show emotion. Over Ava. We could have fun with this.โ
Oh, no.ย Julesโs idea of โfunโ usually involved a heap of trouble and a potential dose of embarrassment on my part.
โWhat kind of fun?โ Bridget looked intrigued.
โBridge!โ I kicked her under the table. โDonโt encourage her.โ
โSorry.โ The blonde made a face. โBut all I have going on lately areโฆโ She glanced around to make sure no one was listening. They werenโt, except for her bodyguard Booth, who sat at the table behind us and pretended to read the paper while actually keeping a sharp eye on the surroundings. โDiplomatic events and ceremonial duties. Itโs terribly boring. Meanwhile, my grandfatherโs sick, my brotherโs acting weird, and I need something to take my mind off it all.โ
Her grandfather and brother, AKA King Edvard and Crown Prince Nikolai of Eldorra. I had to remind myself they were human beings like everyone else, but even after years of friendship with Bridget, I wasnโt used to her speaking so casually about her family. Like they werenโt literal royalty.
โI have a theory.โ Jules leaned forward, and the rest of us, even me, leaned in, eager to hear what she had to say. Call it morbid curiosity, because I was sure I wouldnโt like what was about to come out of her mouth.
I was right.
โAva somehow gets under Alexโs skin,โ Jules said. โWe should see how far it goes.ย How muchย can she make him feel?โ
I rolled my eyes. โAll those long hours you put in at your internship mustโve scrambled your brain, because youโre not making any sense.โ
She ignored me. โI call itโฆโ Dramatic pause. โOperation Emotion.โ She looked up and drew an arc with her hand like the words would magically appear in the air.
โCreative,โ Stella teased.
โHear me out. We all think Alex is a robot, right? Well, what ifย sheย โฆโ Jules pointed at me. โโฆcan prove he isnโt? Donโt tell me you guys donโt want to see him act like an actual human being for once.โ
โNo.โ I tossed my empty coffee cup into the nearest trash can and almost beaned a passing student in a Thayer
sweatshirt. I winced and mouthed โsorryโ before returning to the ridiculous proposition at hand. โThatโs the dumbest idea Iโve ever heard.โ
โDonโt knock it till youโve tried it,โ my so-called best friend sang.
โWhat would be the point?โ I threw my hands in the air. โHow would it even work?โ
โSimple.โ Jules pulled a pen and notepad out of her bag and started scribbling. โWe come up with a list of emotions, and you try to make him feel each one. Itโll be a test of sorts. Like giving him an annual physical to make sure heโs functioning properly.โ
โSometimes,โ Bridget said. โThe way your mind works scares me.โ
โNo,โ I repeated. โNot happening.โ
โItย doesย seem kind ofโฆmean.โ Stella tapped her gold- polished nails on the table. โWhat emotions did you have in mind?โ
โStel!โ
โWhat?โ She cast a guilty look in my direction. โIโm curious.โ
โOff the top of my head? Weโve already seen him angry, so happiness, sadness, fear, disgustโฆโ A wicked smile slashed across Julesโs face. โJealousy.โ
I snorted. โPlease. Heโd never be jealous of me.โ
He was a multimillionaire executive with a genius-level IQ; I was a college student who worked two jobs and ate cereal for dinner.
No contest.
โNot jealousย ofย you. Jealousย overย you.โ
Bridget perked up. โYou think he likes Ava?โ
โNo.โ I was tired of saying that word. โHeโs my brotherโs best friend, and Iโm not his type. He told me so.โ
โPsshh.โ Jules waved away my protest like she would a mosquito. โMen donโt knowย whatย they want. Besides, donโt you want to get back at him for what he did to Owen?โ
โI donโt,โ I said firmly. โAnd Iโm not going along with this crazy idea.โ
Forty-five minutes later, we decided Phase One of Operation Emotion would commence in three days.
 |
I HATED MYSELF FOR CAVING.
Somehow, Julesย alwaysย convinced me to do things against my better instincts, like that time we drove four hours to Brooklyn to watch some band perform because she thought the lead singer was hot, and we ended up stranded in the middle of the highway when our rental car broke down. Or that time she convinced me to write a love poem to the cute guy in my English lit class, only for his girlfriend
โwho I hadnโt known existedโto find it and hunt me down in my dorm.
Jules was the most persuasive person Iโd ever met. A good quality for an aspiring lawyer, but not so much for an innocent friend, i.e. me, who wanted to stay out of trouble.
That night, I climbed into bed and closed my eyes, trying to sort through my racing thoughts. Operation Emotion was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted experiment, but it made me nervous, and not just because it erred on the side of mean-spirited. Everything about Alex made me nervous.
I shuddered, thinking of how heโd retaliate if he found out what we were up to, and thoughts of being flayed alive consumed me until I fell into a light, fitful sleep.
โHelp! Mommy, help me!โ
I tried to scream those words, but I couldnโt. I shouldnโt. Because I was underwater, and if I opened my mouth, all the water would rush in, and I would never see Mommy and Daddy and Josh again. That was what they told me.
They also told me not to go near the lake by myself, but I wanted to make pretty ripples in the water. I liked those
ripples, liked how throwing one little stone could cause such a big effect.
Only those ripples were suffocating me now. Thousands and thousands of them, dragging me further and further from the light above my head.
Tears trickled from my eyes, but the lake swallowed them and buried my panic until it was just me and my silent pleas.
Iโm never getting out never getting out never getting out.
โMommy, help!โ I couldnโt hold it in any longer. I screamed, screamed as loud as my little lungs allowed. Screamed until my throat was raw and I felt like I would pass out, or maybe that was the water rushing in, filling my chest.
So much water. Everywhere. And no air. Not enough air.
I thrashed my arms and legs in hopes it would help, but it didnโt. It made me sink faster.
I cried harderโnot physically, because I couldnโt tell the difference between crying and existing anymoreโbut in my heart.
Where was Mommy? She was supposed to be here. Mommies were always supposed to be with their daughters.
And sheย hadย been there with me on the deck, watching meโฆuntil she hadnโt. Had she returned? What if she was sinking beneath the water too?
The blackness was coming. I saw it, felt it. My brain went fuzzy, and my eyes drooped.
I didnโt have the energy to scream anymore, so I mouthed the words. โMommy, pleaseโฆโ
I jerked upright, my heart beating a million drums of warning while my faded screams soaked into the walls. My covers twisted around my legs, and I threw them off, my skin crawling at the sensation of being entangledโof being trapped with no way to free myself.
The glowing red letters of my alarm clock told me it was four forty-four a.m.
A pinprick of dread blossomed at the base of my neck and slithered down my spine. In Chinese culture, the number four is considered unlucky because the word for it sounds like the word โdeath.โย Sรฌ,ย four;ย sว, death. The only difference between their pronunciation is a tone inflection.
Iโve never been a superstitious person, but chills swamped me every time I awoke from one of my nightmares during the four a.m. hour, which was almost always. I couldnโt remember the last time Iโd awoken during a different hour. Sometimes I woke up not remembering I had a nightmare, but those blessed occasions were far and few in between.
I heard the soft patter of footsteps in the hall and schooled my features into something other than stark terror before the door opened and Jules slipped inside. She flicked on the lamp, and guilt swirled through me when I saw her rumpled hair and exhausted face. She worked long hours and needed sleep, but she always checked on me even after I insisted she stay in bed.
โHow bad was it?โ she asked softly. My bed sank beneath her weight as she sat next to me and handed me a mug of thyme tea. Sheโd read online that it helped with nightmares and started making it for me a few months ago. It helpedโI hadnโt had a nightmare in over two weeks, which was a record, but I guess my good luck ran out.
โNothing out of the ordinary.โ My hands trembled so much liquid spilled over the side of the mug and dripped onto my favorite Bugs Bunny shirt from high school. โGo back to sleep, J. You have a presentation today.โ
โFuck that.โ Jules raked a hand through her tangled red hair. โIโm already up. Besides, itโs almost five. I bet there are dozens of overambitious, Lululemon-wearing fitness junkies jogging outside right now.โ
I mustered a weak smile. โIโm sorry. I swear, we can soundproof my room.โ I wasnโt sure how much that would cost, but Iโd deal with it. I didnโt want to keep waking her up.
