Chapter 6: Can We Talk?

Vanessa's POV

For several seconds, all I could do was stare at Lillian.

She knew.

Of course she knew. I had told her years ago, back when I still believed there were certain things you could hand another person and trust them not to use as a weapon later.

"You wouldn't."

Lillian's smile disappeared. "You don't know what I would do."

"I know you."

"Do you?"

The question came so easily that I almost laughed.

Instead, I stepped closer and lowered my voice. Students were passing at the far end of the hallway, and although none of them seemed interested in us, I wasn't taking chances.

"I told you because I trusted you."

"And I kept it."

"Until now."

"I haven't told anybody anything."

"You're threatening to."

She looked away, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Maybe I'm just reminding you that you're not the only person who can ruin someone's life."

My stomach turned. "What exactly have I done to you?"

Her head snapped back toward me. "You took Cole."

"I already told you, Cole isn't something you can own."

"You knew how I felt about him."

"You thought he was hot."

"I liked him."

"You wanted to sleep with him."

Her cheeks reddened. "That doesn't mean I didn't like him."

"Lillian, you haven't spoken to him more than twice."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

She opened her mouth, but no answer came.

I knew her well enough to recognize what she was doing. Lillian had always hated losing arguments. When we were younger, she would drag in something completely unrelated just so she wouldn't have to admit she was wrong. It used to be funny.

There was nothing funny about it now.

"You left me alone when I needed you," I said. "I could have understood if you were scared. I could have understood if you needed space. But you didn't even send me a message."

Her gaze dropped briefly. "I didn't know what to say."

"You could have started with hello."

"Vanessa—"

"And now the first time you decide to talk to me, you're angry because I'm dating someone you wanted?"

Her mouth tightened.

"You really expect me to believe Cole Grayson suddenly decided he wanted you?"

I looked at her for a long moment.

"You know what hurts the most? If some random person said that to me, I wouldn't care. But you stood in my bedroom and told me I was beautiful. You spent years telling me those people were idiots, and apparently, you agreed with them the entire time."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"You're twisting everything."

"No. I'm finally listening."

I turned away.

Her hand closed around my wrist.

"Vanessa."

I pulled free immediately. "Don't."

Her hand fell. "I wasn't going to tell anyone."

"Then why mention my family at all?"

She didn't answer.

I nodded slowly. "Exactly."

I started walking.

"He's going to find out eventually," she called after me.

My feet stopped, and I hated myself for stopping.

"He comes from one of the oldest Lycan families in New York," she continued. "Do you actually think they're going to welcome someone like you?"

I turned around. "Someone like me?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, Lillian. Say it."

She glanced toward the other end of the hallway.

"You know how packs feel about witches."

"My mother isn't a witch anymore."

"That isn't going to matter."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you."

My parents had spent most of my childhood teaching me which questions not to answer. Never tell anyone where Mom's family came from. Never mention why we moved so often when I was little. Never discuss Mom's old abilities with anyone outside the house.

By the time I was twelve, secrecy had become as ordinary as brushing my teeth.

Then I met Lillian.

At fourteen, after years of sleepovers and shared lunches and whispered conversations after midnight, I told her.

She had hugged me and promised nothing would ever change.

Apparently, forever had lasted five years.

"Stay away from my family," I said.

Lillian's face changed slightly.

"Vanessa, I wouldn't actually—"

"I mean it."

I walked away before she could finish.

By the time I reached the cafeteria, Cole was still sitting where I'd left him.

He looked up immediately.

"That was fast."

I picked up my bag. "I'm leaving."

His smile disappeared. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"That sounded convincing."

"I just don't feel like being here anymore."

He pushed his chair back. "What did she say?"

"Cole."

"I'm asking a question."

"And I'm choosing not to answer."

He studied me for a second before reaching for his bag.

"Okay."

I frowned.

"You're leaving. I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not."

"Why?"

"Because you have class."

"So do you."

"Exactly."

He slung the strap of his bag over one shoulder.

"I'll survive."

I glanced around the cafeteria. People were watching again.

"Sit down."

"No."

"Cole."

"Vanessa."

The way he copied my tone would have annoyed me under any other circumstance.

Right now, I didn't have the energy.

"You don't need to follow me everywhere."

"I know."

"Then stop doing it."

"I don't want to."

I stared at him.

His expression remained calm, but he wasn't joking anymore.

"Did Lillian say anything bad to you?"

My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag.

Cole's eyes moved toward the cafeteria doors.

"What did she say to you?"

"Nothing."

"Vanessa."

"Please don't."

He looked back at me. Whatever he saw made him stop asking.

"Fine," he said. "I won't push."

"Thank you."

"But I'm still walking you out."

I should have argued. Instead, I let him.

We made it halfway across the cafeteria before Nathan stepped directly into our path.

I hadn't been this close to him since the bonfire.

For one humiliating second, my body remembered him before my mind could catch up. The familiar scent of his cologne. The tiny scar near his eyebrow from freshman-year football practice. The green eyes I had once spent hours staring into while believing every lie that came out of his mouth.

"Can we talk?" Nathan asked.