Tempted (27 page)

Brett had to laugh. “That’s your brilliant insight? I spill all my problems to you, and all you can come up with is that I’m screwed?”

“What did you expect?” Seb asked, a strange twinkle in his eye as he watched Brett pack up her things. What, did he think she was crazy? Lame? A joke? But no, the look wasn’t anything like that—it was like he was seeing her for the first time, kind of. “I’m flunking out.”

“Here.” She handed him the wad of flash cards. “Will you use these?”

He mock-saluted her. “Anything you say.” He gave her one last, long look as she disappeared out the door, muttering something about meeting later in the week to do more work.

Brett was so upset by the realization that things with Jeremiah really were beyond repair that Seb’s look barely registered.

Until later, after she’d gone back to her room to lie down, when it was all she could think about.

The plane drifted through the winter sky, banking back toward Waverly through a pillow of gray clouds. Callie gripped Easy’s hand tighter as the small plane fought the wind. The plane’s cabin was small and a little outdated—the walls were covered in a thick beige carpet-like material—but to Callie, it was heaven. She was curled up in the seat next to Easy, wrapped in a deliciously warm blanket they’d found folded up in the overhead bin. She stared into Easy’s dark blue eyes as he touched her cheek and ran his hands over her hair. Easy’s touch was warm, and her grateful skin soaked it up.

She’d thought she’d never know what it was to be warm again, but Easy had swooped in and rescued her from certain frozen death. So what if she’d been fifty feet from the stupid camp—
she
hadn’t known it. What, was Natasha planning on running out there the exact second before frostbite set in? Bitches, all of them. Her mother should sue the place out of business.

“You warm enough?” Easy murmured into Callie’s ear. She nestled her head into Easy’s neck, drinking in the sweet smell of his skin.

“I’m good,” she answered. “But I’m starving.” Life was perfect again. The hum of the plane was like a time machine, transporting them back to the day they’d first met, the
Absinthe
party in the rare books room at the library. She could almost hear Benny yammering on about the poem she’d written, how the moon symbolized what we can never know, how it hung over everyone, lording its mysteriousness. Easy, who’d been watching her all night, rolled his eyes, then caught Callie with a look that melted her completely, as if he’d never seen a girl before and she’d awoken all his senses. She’d carried around that memory for so long that she’d worn it out, couldn’t recall it on command the way she used to. But it came flooding back as she kissed Easy’s neck, as if it had all happened yesterday. Callie could hardly believe that it was more than a year later. She regretted everything she’d done to drive Easy away, and made a silent promise to herself that everything would be different the second time around.
They’d
be different, good again. She’d never felt so positive about anything in her life.

Easy fumbled through the faded canvas messenger bag at his feet and pulled out a half-crushed Snickers bar. “That’s the best I can do—I don’t think they have those little bags of peanuts on this airline.”

“I don’t even care.” Callie tore into the candy bar and popped it into her mouth, savoring the taste of caramel and chocolate and not even thinking about how many calories she was devouring. “Mmmmmmm,” she groaned in pleasure.

Easy kissed Callie on the forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin. He would never admit it out loud, but he’d been convinced he would come across Callie’s body in a snowbank. He knew he’d never be able to forgive himself if the last words he ever spoke to her were the harsh words that had sent her off into the woods of Maine, driven away by what an asshole he could be. When he’d spotted Callie on her knees in the snow, he was sure that he’d dreamed her up, that it was some sort of trick his mind was playing on him, that he’d spend the rest of his life spotting her in restaurant windows, or on the train, or across crowded rooms, always a little out of focus, or turning away just as he was trying to catch her attention, swept away in the noise that always seemed to surround them.

Not this time, he thought to himself, unable to keep his hands off her wavy blond hair. When he’d picked her up off the ground and held her shivering body, he’d known he’d dedicate the future to making things right with Callie. Her apologies sounded like the mad chatter of a crazy person, but he knew she meant it, had known all along that she wasn’t capable of the things she’d done without being under the influence of Tinsley and other conspirators at Waverly who were always trying to make things miserable for everyone else. But not Callie. He knew her, had known her since he’d first met her. He realized with a measure of shame that he’d undervalued just how special Callie was, how much they truly belonged together.

“I can’t believe I was such an asshole to you at that party.” Easy stroked her arm through the thick blanket and watched the lightening sky as the small plane circled the tiny buildings that made up the Rhinecliff airport. Easy tried not to think about going to chemistry class in an hour. “You looked … really beautiful. I wish I’d told you that.”

Callie beamed, tiny smudges of chocolate dotting the corners of her mouth. “It’s never too late.”

Easy leaned in to kiss her again. Her mouth tasted like candy.

The plane taxied down the Rhinecliff airport runway, the sun finally peeking up over the horizon. Easy gave Callie’s hand a squeeze, a promise between them that things were going to be different this time around.

“I love you,” he said. He liked the look of surprise in her eyes, just like the first time he’d ever said it.

Callie grabbed Easy’s scarf, pulling him toward her. “I know.”

They might’ve stayed like that the rest of the day if the plane hadn’t shuddered to a stop, the pilot cutting the engine and removing his headphones. The cabin suddenly filled with the everyday noises of life back on the ground.

They stepped down the metal staircase pushed to the door of the plane hand in hand, greeting the cold, crisp air. Just the other day, Easy had been ready to give up on Waverly Academy—and Callie Vernon—completely. If he’d had an option besides military school, he might have been tempted enough to pack his shit up and take the next train out of Rhinecliff. But he’d stayed, and had realized that Callie
was
the kind of girl he kept wishing she could be. Maybe over winter break they could go to Paris together, just the two of them. Smoke cigarettes over coffee and croissants, sleep late, browse through the book stalls down by the Seine. He’d even let Callie drag him into one of those exclusive designer boutiques on the Champs-Élysées.

But all thoughts of baguettes and Gauloises disappeared from Easy’s brain midway down the steps. Dean Marymount was standing on the tarmac, his lips pressed in a straight line. Mrs. Horniman stood next to him, holding a giant aluminum coffee thermos, an enormous red wool hat pulled down over her ears.

“Oh, fuck,” Easy muttered, his whole body deflating.

Callie squeezed his hand and stared up at him in panic, her wavy blond hair still unbrushed and wild. “You can’t be in trouble—you saved my life!”

“Yeah, well …” Easy played with the zipper on his fleece and headed over to the two faculty members, slowly, not in any hurry to reach Marymount. “Horniman sort of … put me on probation,” he explained. “And told me if I left campus again …” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t bear to look at Callie.

“Dean Marymount, I can explain.” Callie spoke up as they approached, her voice wobbling with fear. She kicked at a loose stone with a pair of thick hiking boots Easy had never seen before.

But Dean Marymount didn’t look like he was in the mood for any explanation. He barely glanced at Callie, instead focusing his wire-rimmed stare directly at Easy. Wearing a long black wool trench coat, with bags under his eyes, he looked far more threatening than he did in his usual sweater-vests. The dean coughed into his bare hands. “Mr. Walsh,” he said, “care to hazard a guess as to whether or not this”—he gestured at the plane—”violates the terms of your probation?”

Easy tried to swallow the giant lump in this throat. “I don’t think I have to guess, sir,” he finally managed to say, ignoring Marymount’s imposing glare and staring at the gravel beneath his heels. He stole a glance at Callie, whose eyes were red and puffy and looked like they were about to burst into tears.

Maybe he and Callie wouldn’t get a second chance after all.

Instant Message Inbox

AlisonQuentin:
Ohmigod, poor Brett! Alan said Jeremiah was totally harsh.

BennyCunningham:
Did he say anything about the pictures of her and Kara? I knew she couldn’t last with Heath--he’s 100% boy.

AlisonQuentin:
Apparently, Brandon deleted them all. Poor Brett!

BennyCunningham:
Don’t feel too bad for her. Saw her in the lib with that greasy senior, having a totally intense conversation.

AlisonQuentin:
Seb? You’re kidding. He’s kinda hot! R they together?

BennyCunningham:
Right. Class prefect going for greezy boy? Don’t hold your breath.

Instant Message Inbox

HeathFerro:
Did EZ really save Callie from dying in a blizzard? How romantic! U never did that.

BrandonBuchanan:
Glad U R feeling better.

HeathFerro:
HF always bounces back. Think Walsh will get kicked out?

BrandonBuchanan:
Seems like it. Heard Marymount was furious.

HeathFerro:
Will you ditch Sage and try 2 comfort Callie?? Think U could get into both their pants?

BrandonBuchanan:
Wow, you really
are
yourself again. Nice to have you back.

Instant Message Inbox

CelineColista:
If EZ gets kicked out, who the hell am I going to lust over?

RifatJones:
Could always try Heath—I hear he’s got a sensitive side now.

CelineColista:
Right. That’ll last four hours.

Instant Message Inbox

BrettMesserschmitt:
Did you hear? Jenny drove to Maine w Tinsley to save Callie. How weird is that?

KaraWhalen:
Yeah, I heard T tried to feed J to a grizzly!

BrettMesserschmitt:
Sounds like her … but when they got here, they actually seemed kind of … okay with each other.

KaraWhalen:
Is life as we know it collapsing?

BrettMesserschmitt:
Maybe it’s all part of T’s master plan—make friends w Jenny, then destroy her!

KaraWhalen:
That sounds more like it. =)

Instant Message Inbox

JennyHumphrey:
Hey. Did you find one of my pink mittens?

TinsleyCarmichael:
Thought you gave it to that waiter as a memento? He was all over you.

JennyHumphrey:
Yeah, asking for
your
number! I told him you had herpes … hope you don’t mind.

TinsleyCarmichael:
Nah, he was too short anyway. More your type. Midget.

JennyHumphrey:
Thx, ice queen. You’re a real pal.

TinsleyCarmichael:
Always keep your friends close—and your enemies closer.