Always & Forever Vive (The Undergrad Years #4) (9 page)

I expected him to laugh or mock my words. Most boys did when I shared this with them, but not Seneca. Instead, his lips caught mine, kissing me passionately and sending spirals of ecstasy through me.
Ohhh. Lawdy. I think I’m in love with this man.

When we finally parted and my toes were beyond curled, he dipped his chin to look at me, our eyes locking as our breathing came in unison. The moonlight shone through the window, creating a warm glow between us. Normally, I’d run out the door when things got deep. However, Seneca had a way of keeping me focused.

“You’d make a great mother, Luyu.”

A knot formed in my throat. Tears, hot and wet, streaked my flushed cheeks. Overwhelmed by this compliment, I started to fake-laugh but realized he was on to me, and I stopped myself. Instead, I glared at him, searching for a response. I could barely see him through the wetness of my eyes, but his handsome smile, the one I was indeed falling for, widened. “Thank you.”

“I mean it. You’re thoughtful and smart. You care about your friends, and always do right by people. Luyu, you’re a good person. I don’t know why you don’t see what I see in you.” He reached up and wiped my face. His words suggested to me that I need to start loving myself.

It hadn’t really occurred to me before. Sure, ‘love yourself’ sounds a bit cliché. But when you don’t even like yourself, it’s hard to one day truly love yourself. Honestly, I’d be okay with just liking me a little bit more, and hating me a little bit less.

“It’s getting late. We better get to sleep.” I climbed off him. Lying beside him, I put a goose-down pillow between us. The feathers prickled through the cotton casing.

Removing it, he pulled me against him. My body tingled all over again from his contact. His intensity scared the shit out of me. He saw me for me. Not for what the tabloids wrote. Not for what the students in school said behind my back.

The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was him whispering in my ear, “I like it when it’s just the two of us.”

Seneca left early the next morning to study.

With Hedda Hopper on my lap, we sat at Joe’s Coffee Shop near campus in Morningside Heights.

Blake was to my left, Taddy and Lex to my right. Up at the espresso machine, flirting with the new barista, was Thor in all his pride and glory.

“
Must
you have that gun pointed at me?” I asked Taddy.

Her handgun, concealed in her Fendi handbag, sat dead-center in the middle of the café table, pointing in my direction.

“Darling, it’s for our protection,” she smiled. “Lex and I had fun yesterday at the rifle range learning how to shoot. You two should’ve gone with us.”

“No fucking way.” I glanced over at Blake for confirmation my besties had lost their minds. Shaking his head, he sighed.

Overnight, the rumors had started circulating, stating I had something to do with Poppy’s disappearance. It felt as if we were at Avon Porter all over again.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have left the apartment today.” Wearing her Chanel sunglasses and an Yves Saint Laurent sequined baseball cap, Lex sipped her double Dutch chocolate chip latte, with a generous dollop of whipped cream.

“
Gurl
, you can say that again.” Blake uncrossed his legs, pulling himself closer to the table. He motioned for all of us to lean in. “I have an idea…”

“We leave New York City and finally go to college in Malibu?” Taddy asked.

She’d been begging for California long before we’d arrived at Columbia University.

He shook his head. “Let’s hire a private investigator to find Poppy White.”

“Mmm.” I finished the sip of my coffee and replied, “I love that idea.”

The NYPD had filed the missing persons paperwork, but was a search party (other than the one we’d done) out looking for her? No. Not exactly. Although, Poppy’s headshot
was
plastered all over the news.

“Why is everyone staring at us?” Taddy’s face, usually a shade of porcelain with a splatter of freckles across the bridge of her model-perfect nose, turned a deep shade of red.

I hated this feeling of being under some microscopic lens.

“Because they think we did something to her,” Blake muttered without making eye contact with me. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Just as we were getting our things together, two people approached with judgment in their narrow eyes: Brez Duncan, a fellow student who’d interned at Poppy’s TV show, and her boyfriend, Marshall.
Great. So close to escaping.
“Morning, Brez,” I greeted, acting as if it was just another day.

“You four have a lot of nerve showing your guilty faces this morning.”

Her words caused us all to tense up as Thor quirked his brow, glancing over at us from the espresso bar.

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Lex rolled up her sleeves, ready for a fight.

Out of all of us, Lex was the one who could easily throw a few punches.

“Cut the shit, Alexandra. We all know you Manhattanites have had it in for Poppy ever since she did that story on you last semester.”

“That’s not true,” I countered.

Brez leaned across the table, over the Fendi handbag with the loaded gun in it, pointing her long, unkempt finger in my face. “Admit it. You did something to her.”

Under normal circumstances, I’d defend myself. But the gravity of the situation had paralyzed me enough to make talking impossible. With nothing to say, I simply sat there, gawking.

Quick on her feet, Lex strutted around the table and got right up in Brez’s face.

“Is there a problem?” Thor approached with his coffee and confusion written over his sweet face.

“Listen here.” Lex put her left hand on Marshall’s chest, signaling to him that it was just between the girls. “You can think whatever your small brain likes, but we had nothing to do with Poppy White’s disappearance. For all we know, it could’ve been
you
who snatched her.”

“Me?”
The size of Brez’s beady eyes nearly doubled.

“Lord knows, Brez, you’d certainly like to be Poppy in your next life.”

“That’s not true.”

“You dress just like her.” Lex flicked her short, purple fingernail against Brez’s blouse. “It’s no secret you wanted to co-host her talk show, but Poppy told you there was only room for one star and it wasn’t y-o-u.”

“Why, I never…”

Thor, Taddy, and Blake started to laugh as Brez’s cheeks began to fill with air then blow out, similar to a blowfish.

“Don’t you dare point your boney finger at us ever again or so help me God, I will break it off your hand and shove it up your boyfriend’s hairy ass.”

Everyone, except Brez and Marshall, started to laugh. Taddy cackled, and then came the infamous snort.

“Marshall would probably love your finger up his butt. Wouldn’t you, sexy?” Blake winked in his direction, causing him to become all the more irritated.

“He sure would.” Thor licked his lips sarcastically, blowing him a kiss.

“Brez. Leave ‘em be. We shouldn’t be associating with students like this. After all, we have a reputation to uphold.” Marshall grabbed his girlfriend by the elbow as they turned and walked away from us.

I rolled my eyes and sunk back down in my chair as my cell phone chimed from my purse, causing Hedda to yap.

Blake’s phone in his pocket, Lex’s on the table, and Taddy’s in her purse all beeped at the same time.

“Group text. Probably some party alert.” I reached in my Chanel handbag to see whom it was from.

The screen read: Poppy White.

Feeling the color drain from my face, I glanced up at my besties and asked, “Poppy?”

Each staring at their phone, they nodded.

I clicked on the ‘open’ button and read the message.

Hey, Manhattanites! Sorry I’ve been MIA. My book research took longer than expected. It’s finished and ready for your viewing. Come over to Jay Austin’s tonight for drinks. 8pm. I’ll have copies printed out for you. Let’s celebrate.

Get The Fuck Outta Here!

“I can’t say I ever 100% agreed with Lex, Taddy and Vive when they’d claimed someone was out to kill us. Or that Birdie’s penthouse explosion, the plane crash, and us all getting roofied were somehow linked together. That was until I had been tied up next to Poppy White’s dead body!”—Blake Morgan III, New Englander, boyfriend to Diego, crusher on Miguel.

Kinship Revenge

Later that night

Upper West Side

I left Hedda at home that night and took the Farnworth limo with my best friends over to Jay Austin’s apartment. He and I had talked earlier in the day. He’d said he’d received the same message from Poppy and would be there, waiting for us.

When I stepped out of the car, I received a text from Seneca.
Good luck, Luyu. Text me when you’re done. Let’s go see a movie tonight. Just us.

Will do. This shouldn’t take long
, I texted back, a warm feeling coming over me. The night before, in bed with Seneca, had brought us closer together.

Maybe letting my walls down with these boys hadn’t been such a bad idea. In a way, I felt stronger and better about myself. I slipped the cell phone into the front pocket of my skirt and glanced down at my heels.

A pair of five and a quarter inch stilettos, gold-dyed metallic, python-skinned, pointed toe with leather lining adorned each of my feet. Made in Italy by some designer I’d never heard of before, I l-o-v-e-d those shoes.

The previous week in journalism class, Dr. Henry had said if you dressed your best for a media interview with a journalist, you’d feel your best, thus
do
your best. Honey, nothing felt better than those shoes. I was almost as tall as Taddy when I wore them.
Poppy White can suck it!

As we came off the elevator, Taddy motioned for us to huddle and spoke in her usual bossy tone. “Listen, darlings. We’ve been down this tabloid-trash road before with reporters such as Poppy. There’s nothing new here she can dig up on us. So, let’s keep our calm. Try not to react and just play nice.”