She had to say something. Anything that made sense. But she could think of nothing. What was she supposed to say to that? What was he thinking? How could he know?
Without another word, Jasper turned and sauntered off, disappearing into the crowd. That was when Lexa started choking.
“Lexa!” Ariana hissed, whirling to her friend. Lexa pounded on her own chest with a flat hand and turned toward the bar, dropping her glass on the wood surface, where it promptly spilled. “Lexa, are you choking?”
Lexa managed to shake her head no, but she gripped the bar with both hands, coughing like mad and making awful, strangled sounds.
“Stop! Lexa! Stop and breathe!” Ariana said, wrapping her arm around her friend and looking around at the Stone and Grave alums apologetically. Any second someone was going to shout for help, and they’d have a dozen of the nation’s finest physicians all over them. Ariana didn’t need that kind of attention on Lexa. Not right now. Not when she was clearly spiraling all over again.
“Breathe, Lex. Just breathe,” Ariana said in her ear.
Finally, finally, Lexa stopped coughing. Holding her arms around Lexa’s slim shoulders, Ariana glanced around wildly, desperate to find Jasper in the crowd— desperate to hunt him down and make him explain.
“Oh my God, he knows,” Lexa hissed, her voice raspy. “He knows, Ana. How does he know?”
The bartender gave Lexa a disturbed, curious look, and Ariana’s blood turned to ice.
“Lexa, shut up,” she said through her teeth.
But inside, her own voice was in complete panic. He does. He does know. But how? How and why? Why him? Why is this happening to me? Why him?
Lexa promptly began to cry. Ariana grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to face her, channeling all her frustration, all her anger, all her fear, into controlling her friend.
“Lexa, stop,” she said, looking into her friend’s eyes. Her skin was an awful grayish color, as if all the blood had left her body. “We don’t know what he was talking about.”
Except that she did know what he was talking about. Because what else could it be? What else could he know?
But how? How? How the hell did he know?
“I’m going to go find him and talk to him, okay?” Ariana said. Her voice cracked, and she gritted her teeth. Weakness was not an option. Not now.
Ariana glanced at the nearby cliques and klatches, looking for Soomie, Maria, Tahira, Conrad . . . anyone who could come hang out with Lexa. Anyone who could keep her focused and in the now. But she saw only strangers. Her eyes darted toward the doorway that led to the hall and the bathroom beyond. Grasping Lexa’s arm, she steered her across the room and out the door. The bathroom had been built for parties, with a lounge area just outside the toilet. Ariana shot a stiff smile at the elderly woman in front of the mirror, before flinging Lexa inside the private room and closing the door behind them. Lexa sat right down on the closed toilet and put her head in her hands. “You stay here and calm down. Lock the door behind me and don’t move. Do you understand me?”
Slowly, silently, Lexa nodded.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Ariana promised Lexa, crouching down and whispering the words in her ear. “I’m going to fix this. Just . . . don’t do anything stupid.”
When she stood up again, Lexa looked up, directly into her eyes. Ariana took a breath. Lexa was not gone. She was still with her. This could be fixed. It had to be fixed.
“I will be right back,” Ariana assured her. “Promise me you won’t move. Promise.”
“I promise,” Lexa said.
That was all Ariana needed to hear, and she was off. Off to keep the love of her life from repeating what he knew. By any means necessary.
Jasper was here somewhere. In this room, among these people. These people she needed to impress. These people who could make her future. These people who, moments ago, had seemed like the answer to everything. They’d seemed like family, like openly helpful new friends. But now they were all potential enemies. Because Jasper could tell any of them the secret that could end her life.
Ariana whirled around the room, in search of that familiar head of blond hair. Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere there was nothing but black, white, and gray. Tuxedo after tuxedo, gown after gown, curious face after curious face. Somewhere nearby someone let forth a loud, belly laugh. Laughter. So out of place. So wrong. They were mocking her. Every one of them. Staring at her, staring through her, knowing her, mocking her.
Where was he? He was hiding from her on purpose. She could feel it. Hiding from her and torturing her. Making her search. Making her desperate. Making her weak. But why?
Why was he doing this to her? He’d said he loved her. That he would always love her, no matter what. How could he have found out? How could he possibly know?
And then, suddenly, Ariana stopped. Right in the center of the marble floor, she simply froze. Her lack of movement was so sudden that a waiter almost tripped over her. He apologized and kept moving, straightening the empty glasses on his tray, but Ariana barely noticed. Because suddenly, she knew. Suddenly she understood.
The soccer game. The soccer game had been very illuminating. Now she knew what that meant. It meant that he had somehow found out the truth about her there. That she, her identity, her worst secret, had been illuminated. But how?
A photo suddenly flashed through her mind. A picture of young Reed Brennan chasing a soccer ball across a verdant field. Reed . . . soccer . . . Reed . . . soccer. It all made sense.