Felix Ever After(22)

Ezra gives a halfhearted wave. “See you tomorrow.”

She blows a kiss at him. “Goodbye, my love.”

“I should go home, too,” Austin says.

“Same,” Leah says, jumping to her feet.

Austin hesitates, meeting Ezra’s eye. Ezra should probably get up and walk Austin out, after having his tongue down the guy’s throat for approximately an hour, but he stays beside me, blinking up at Austin. “Ah—I’ll text you, okay?”

Austin gives a half smile. “Okay.”

The three head out, and the door slams shut behind them. Ezra holds out the phone.

“Austin, huh?” I say as I take it back.

Ezra bites his lip, rubbing his neck. “Yeah, I didn’t really see it coming.”

“Is he a candidate for your new special friend?”

Ezra shrugs, and it’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it. I don’t know why, but I drop it and turn my attention back to Declan’s comment, nerves starting to course through me as I read and reread the message. How do I respond? If I don’t answer his comment in exactly the right way, I might mess this up. This could be my one and only chance to get him to actually talk to me. Figure out a secret of his that I can use to fuck up his world.

“What’re you going to do?” Ezra asks in a hushed voice.

“I have no idea.”

He glances up at me. “I mean—you’re going to answer, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I just don’t know what I’m going to say.”

The two of us stare at the phone.

“Well,” Ezra says, lying down, “I’m going to bed.”

“Wait, what? Aren’t you going to help me figure this out?”

“Sorry.” His back faces me. “I can’t in good conscience help your evil Slytherin tendencies.”

This is news to me. “You were all for ruining Declan’s life a few days ago.”

“Yeah, but that was before I realized this is literally the sort of thing we could get arrested for,” he says, looking over his shoulder at me. “I don’t know, Felix. Maybe you shouldn’t do this.”

“Are you serious?” I say, anger rising. I almost feel like he’s betrayed me. “It’s easy for you to forget what Declan did to me, I guess—you weren’t the one he humiliated.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Ezra agrees, “but that’s where the school should come in. We should go to the dean or something. Not—I don’t know, this way-too-complicated revenge plan. It just doesn’t seem like it’s worth it.”

The anger snaps. “I’m the one he fucked with, Ezra, not you. I’m the one he deadnamed. The one whose old pictures he put up in a fucking gallery. The one he’s been sending fucked-up Instagram messages to. I’m the one who gets to say if this way-too-complicated revenge plan is worth it. Spoiler alert: it fucking is.”

“Okay,” Ezra whispers. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Neither of us says anything for a while. I can feel the anger swelling in my chest, my eyes stinging, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. I know it’s not Ezra I’m really angry at. I shouldn’t have taken it out on him. The upstairs neighbor, probably still pissed about the party, starts stomping around and throwing shit on the ground. The apartment walls vibrate and echo. A car blasting the newest Drake song rushes by. I can hear Ezra swallow.

“What did you mean,” he says, “by fucked-up Instagram messages?”

I didn’t want to tell him, but I guess it’s out in the open now anyway. “I don’t know. There was this anonymous account, grandequeen69. They told me—I don’t even want to say what they told me. But I’m pretty sure it’s Declan.”

“Shit, Felix. Why didn’t you say anything?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. As long as I can take Declan down—it doesn’t matter.”

Ezra frowns, not meeting my eye. It’s obvious he’s back to thinking the same thing he had that first day: there’s no real proof that any of this is Declan, not really.

“It’s just,” he tells me, “I don’t want you to . . . I don’t know. Obsess over this?”

“Obsess?”

“Obsess over this, when you could be putting your energy into other things.” He twists to me, leaning on an elbow. “Like your portfolio.”

“I’m fine,” I lie. “I don’t need you to worry about me. I just need you to be supportive. All right?”

Ezra turns onto his back, staring up at his ceiling as there’s a particularly loud crash. “Okay. All right.”

I take a deep breath, swiping on my phone again, squinting at Declan’s comment in the dim light. Ezra and I don’t argue often, but when we do, I try to move on and pretend it didn’t happen, and he’s usually on the same page. “Christ. What the hell am I supposed to say?”

Ez doesn’t look at me. Maybe he’s still a little mad. “I guess one way to get him to talk would be to ask a question, right? Declan loves talking about himself.”

“Yeah—you’re right,” I say. I immediately know what to ask. My fingers fly across the screen.