The Cousins(65)

I zip my duffel in response, which Suit No. 2 takes as his cue to grab my arm again. “All right, let’s get moving,” he says.



“I’m coming,” I say tersely, shaking free. “But I need to send a text. I have to get in touch with my parent or guardian, right?”

His neutral expression doesn’t change. “Make it fast.”

He propels me toward the door and shuts it behind us. I blink in the fluorescent lights of the hall, too bright after the dim dorm room, until the dark spots in front of my eyes fade to reveal a half-dozen curious faces. Every Towhee who’s not working or attending the gala is in the hallway to watch my walk of shame. News travels fast on a twelve-mile island.

“So long, Jonah,” Reid Chilton’s roommate calls. “If that is in fact your name.”

“Get back in your rooms,” Suit No. 2 says. “Show’s over.”

Nobody listens. I keep my head down as the Suits lead me outside, scrolling through my contacts. But I’m not looking for father’s number; I’ll deal with that later. Instead, I pull up Milly’s.

I’m sorry, I text once I’m buckled into the backseat of the car. I screwed everything up.

Every time I think about what I did tonight, I feel sick. When Donald Camden burst in on my kiss with Milly, my time as Jonah Story was officially up. I knew it, and part of me was even relieved. What I should’ve done next was this: grab Milly’s hand and tell everyone within earshot that I wasn’t her cousin so they’d stop looking at her with shock and disgust, and focus all that negative energy where it belonged—on me. Then I could’ve taken the brunt of what happened next, or maybe Milly and I would’ve dealt with it together. Which is what I’ve wanted ever since she snagged my wallet and called me out.

Instead, I launched into my Anders Story revenge fantasy. Even though I’d already decided, that day we had brunch at Catmint House, that I needed to let it go. It wasn’t worth putting Milly and Aubrey in a bad situation. But tonight, when I was humiliated and stressed and goaded by Mildred, I let my bitterness take over. And not only was that a shitty thing to do to Milly, but it didn’t work. All I managed to do was give Anders an opening to spew lies.



I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t even notice we’ve arrived downtown until I see the bright lights of the dock. Suit No. 1 is driving, and Suit No. 2 is on the phone as we pull in front of a redbrick building. “All set,” he says into the handset, then lowers it and twists to face me. “This is the Hawthorne Hotel, your home for the night. You can order from room service, with a cap of fifty dollars. You’ve got an open one-way ticket for tomorrow’s ferry waiting for you at will call. The earliest leaves at seven a.m., the latest at four p.m. Understood?”

“What if I miss it?” I ask.

His voice doesn’t shift from the monotone he’s been using all night. “I wouldn’t advise that. Come on, I’ll check you in.”

Suit No. 1 stays in the car with the engine running as we head inside Hawthorne Hotel. If the clerk at reception thinks it’s strange that a guy in a suit is checking a teenager in at nine o’clock at night, she doesn’t show it. “You’re in room 215,” she says, eyes on the computer in front of her. “The elevator is down the hall to your left, or you can take the stairs around the corner to your right. Do you need help with your bags?”

I hitch my duffel higher on my shoulder. “I’m good.”

“One room key or two?” she asks.

Suit No. 2 answers before I can. “Just the one.”

She hands it to me with a bright smile. “Enjoy your stay!”

I thank her and turn away, Suit No. 2 right on my heels. The front door opens, and I stop in my tracks when I see Anders and JT coming through it. They’re alone, not flanked by security guards like me, and that makes my temper spike all over again.



“You fucking liars,” I snarl.

Anders Story looks cool and collected. You’d never guess that he’d just gotten thrown out of his own mother’s party. He peers past me to a silver bowl on the reception desk, and grabs a plastic-wrapped mint. “I took a shot, Jonah,” he says, unwrapping the candy and popping it into his mouth. “It was the only one you and JT left me with.”

I glare at JT, still skulking in his father’s shadow. “This whole thing was your idea.”

JT shrugs with a ghost of Anders’s bravado. “You’re the one who couldn’t manage to lie low. Getting your picture taken at a funeral and making out with my cousin weren’t part of the deal. Technically, all of this is your fault.”

“Technically, it’s his,” I say, shifting my gaze to Anders. “I wouldn’t have gone along with this if you hadn’t ruined my parents. You’re a liar and a thief.”

I wait for him to deny it, but he just lifts a shoulder, chewing and swallowing the mint with deliberate slowness. “Your parents are adults, making decisions about how to manage their money of their own free will. Stop shifting blame. It’s pathetic.”

“Enough.” Suit No. 2 tugs on my arm. “Time for you to get to your room. We taking the elevator or the stairs?”

“I’ll go on my own,” I say, trying to wrench free.

It doesn’t work. Suit No. 2’s grip is like a vise. “My orders are to get you safely to your room so that’s what I’m doing,” he says mildly. “Elevator or stairs?”