Broken Knight (All Saints High 2)

“You don’t have to.” Dad frowned. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. I knew he was uncomfortable.

“I’m more than happy to.”

“Does that mean you and Knight talked it out?”

I’d done quite a bit of talking with Knight, actually. I felt guilty even thinking that. I’d given Knight something my father had begged me for, for years. My words. Not that selective muteness was a choice. I’d tried speaking to Dad plenty. It sucked that I couldn’t give him the thing he wanted most.

“We’re fine.”

At least I hoped we were. I was counting on having no more embarrassing secrets Knight could reveal at the party, so really, how disastrous could it be?

I was a ball of nerves that whole first day back home, a knot of puke making it hard for me to breathe, smile, or shove food down my throat. I tried to write, but nothing came out. Tossing the MacBook to the wall in a fit, I grabbed my bike and decided to ride in the woods, where I knew I’d never bump into Knight. But I was too distracted and ended up falling flat on my butt twice. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d fallen off my bike.

Actually, I could.

The day Knight had saved me.

The world kept on moving, and I wasn’t even trying to play catch-up with it. Edie and Racer made cookies and put on Christmas movies while I secretly Googled Val’s name. One time, Dad caught me and asked what was going on.

“You look upset,” he said.

I shook my head at that.

“What are you doing?” he persisted.

I shook my head harder, thinking, Ruining my life. That seems to be the theme lately.

Then the next day rolled around, and I realized I had to face Knight. I didn’t want to go to the party. The only thing that made me drag myself out the door—every step feeling like I had a three-ton sandbag on my back—was that I knew he’d expect me to bail. He wanted confirmation of the fact that I was sad and lonely and in need of him.

Surprise, jerk.

Whether it was true or not, he was about to be served a big piece of humble pie. Hopefully he was hungry.

I showed up at the Coles’ in my usual attire of boyfriend jeans, Vans, and a cropped yellow sleeveless shirt, ignoring the herd of women in gowns and men in double-breasted suits sipping expensive champagne. The party was in the backyard, which was as big as a wedding venue. Everything was red, green, or white, including the waiters’ uniforms. They moved around, offering silver trays full of delicious finger foods and sparkling, golden liquid. I consciously worked on not scanning the place for Knight, and when Edie, Theo, and Racer disappeared into the kitchen to help Rosie and her staff, I found myself leaning against a round table next to Daria and Penn, just like Thanksgiving.

Daria took a sip of her champagne and glanced around the crowd, looking stunning in a red velvet dress.

“Vaughn is wearing a suit,” she observed, and I nearly choked on my glass of water.

I followed her gaze. Sure enough, he was. He looked quite dashing, too, with his black hair slicked back and his permanent frown smoothed into a blank expression. Vaughn always looked rich, even in tattered clothes. But now? Now he looked not only formidable, but…delicious. Daria turned to me, pressing the cold champagne to her cheek. Southern California was notorious for not getting the memo about it being Christmastime, and this year wasn’t any different. The air was hot, dense with temperature and hormones.

“Who’s the girl?” Daria pouted. “There must be one, if he’s making an effort.”

“No idea,” I signed.

“Of course you do. You’re one of his best friends.”

“Try Knight.”

I hated that my mind went automatically to him.

Daria snorted out a laugh. “I would, but he’s busy getting lucky by the pool. Which is, like, totes odd. I always thought you guys were going to end up together. Honestly, I’m glad you have a boyfriend at Boon. Knight is such a manwhore. He’d be a terrible boyfriend to leave on the other side of the country.”

He’s a virgin, you fool! I wanted to scream. At myself, not at Daria.

Then I remembered that’s what got me into this mess in the first place. The entire world and its sister thought Knight was dipping his sausage into every sauce on the counter.

How could I have known he’d been waiting for me?

Still, her words sank into me like deadly claws. My eyes darted to the pool, frantically looking for my best friend. I found him standing by the edge, clad in an eccentric navy blue suit, a vest, and a pocket square in maroon red. His hair was tugged in every direction under the sun, and he looked outrageously sexy, talking to Poppy Astalis with his hand on the small of her back.