Kiss the Sky (Calloway Sisters #1)(2)

When she saw me enter, she directed all of her pent-up frustration at my incoming body. “This is the girls’ bathroom, Richard.” She used my first real name and tried to fling a paper towel at me. But it fluttered to the ground in defeat.

I wasn’t the one who spilt a can of Cherry Fizz on her dress. But in Rose Calloway’s mind, I might as well have been the offender. We crossed paths every year, my boarding school and her prep school competing at Model UN and honor societies.

I was supposed to be her Student Ambassador today—taking her on tour of campus before her interview with the Dean, which would decide whether or not she’d be in the Honor’s Program

“I’m aware,” I told her easily, more concerned by her state. She gripped the sink at one point, like she was about to scream.

“I’m going to kill Caroline. I’m going to rip out her hair one strand at a time and then steal all of her clothes.”

Her excessive exaggerations always reminded me of a rumor I’d heard around Faust. That during a health class at Dalton Academy, her prep school, she took her baby doll and stabbed the stuffing with a pair of scissors. Another person said she scribbled over the baby’s forehead and handed it to the teacher. The note: I won’t care for an inanimate object unless the boys do it too.

People thought she was nuts—in a genius “I will devour your soul” kind of way.

I thought she was fucking fascinating.

“Rose—”

She slammed her palms on the counter. “She spilt soda on me. I’d rather she punched me in the face. At least I have makeup.”

“I have a solution.”

She raised a hand to me. “This is an ego-free bathroom.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing here?” I asked her with the tilt of my head.

She glared, and I neared her anyway, about to help. She shoved my chest in anger.

I hardly even moved. “That was a little infantile, even for you.”

“It’s sabotage,” she said with blazing eyes, pointing a finger at me. “Academic gluttony. I hate cheaters, and she’s cheated me out of Penn.”

“You’ve already been accepted,” I reminded her.

“Would you go to a college without being admitted to the Honor’s Program?”

I said nothing. She knew my answer.

“Exactly.”

I tossed the sodden towels in the nearby trash, and my actions started loosening her shoulders as she watched me closely. Then I began to shrug off my red blazer.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“This is what help looks like.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to be indebted to you.” She pointed another finger at me and stepped back. “I know how you work. I get it. You do things for students and they have to pay you back in some sick way.” Opportunity cost. Benefits. Deals. They were the foundation of my life.

“I’m not prostituting people.” I held out my blazer. “There’s not a string attached to this. I’m not expecting anything in return. Take it.”

She just kept shaking her head at me.

My hand fell. “What?”

“Why do you act like that around Caroline?” she suddenly asked.

I read into her question. I heard: Why do you like her? Caroline was a typical WASP girl. She always looked at me with predatory gaze, silently asking: What use will you be to me? Will I marry you some day and take all your fucking money?

But Rose Calloway was different. She was fashionable. But not a sorority girl. She was a genius on paper. But not a team player. She was quick to loathe others. But not against loving.

She was a complicated equation that didn’t need to be solved.

I didn’t even have time to respond. That’s how fast Rose moved in her state of irritation. She set her hands on her hips and mimicked me from earlier that day. “You ride well, Caroline. I saw you at the equestrian event last week. How’s your mother?”

“I was being kind.”

“You’re different around certain people,” she told me. “I’ve known you long enough from academic conferences to see it. You act one way with them and another with me. How do I know who the real Connor Cobalt is?”

You never will. “I’m as real with you as I can be.”

“That’s complete bullshit,” she cursed.

“I can’t be you,” I told her. “You leave a trail of bodies with your glares. People are afraid to approach you, Rose. That’s a problem.”

“At least I know who I am.”

We had somehow drawn towards each other. I towered over her, taller than most men and built like an athlete. I never hunched. Never recoiled. I wore my height with pride.

She raised her chin to combat me. I pushed her to be the best that she could be.

“I know exactly who I am,” I said with every ounce of confidence I possessed. “What unsettles you, Rose, is that you have no idea what kind of guy that is.” I stepped closer and she stiffened. “If people stare at me and see my problems, then I’m useless to them. So I give them exactly what they want. I am whomever or whatever they need.” I held out my blazer again. “And you need a fucking jacket.”

She reluctantly took the blazer but hesitated. “I can’t be you,” she said. “I can’t internalize all of my feelings. I don’t understand how you can do that.”