Cruel Love (Privilege 6)

Ariana slid the phone out and checked the screen. She had one new text message. Her heart rate sped up when she saw that it was from Conrad.

“It’s from Brother Lear,” Ariana said, her thumb quaking as she opened the text. She stared at the words for a moment, her mind going blank, her skull weightless.

“Well? What does it say?” Soomie demanded.

Ariana looked up. The flickering candlelight seemed to dim and brighten and dim and brighten. “Lexa’s awake.”

THE HONOR

The pink light of dawn was just warming the windowpanes of the ICU waiting area when Mrs. Greene finally emerged from Lexa’s room. Ariana and her friends lifted their heads in unison, like some macabre ballet. In her rumpled green sweater set and gray pants, Lexa’s mother looked exhausted, but also hopeful. The eyeliner around her eyes was smudged, and she wore no lipstick, but there was a small smile on her dry lips.

“Ana?” she said, lacing her fingers together. “Lexa is asking for you.”

Ariana’s heart skipped an excited beat as all eyes turned to her. It was all she could do to keep from shooting a triumphant glance in Palmer’s direction. He’d already been here when Ariana and her friends had arrived, but had stayed seated in the corner, far away from the rest of the crowd. Over the past couple of hours he hadn’t moved a muscle and hadn’t uttered a single word to anyone.

Think our friendship is fake, huh? Ariana thought as she smoothed the front of her eyelet cashmere sweater. Idiot.

Jasper reached up and gave Ariana’s hand a squeeze. She lifted her chin as she followed Lexa’s mother down the hallway. This was an honor, being the first person summoned to Lexa’s bedside, and she felt the import of it down to the tips of her toenails.

Ariana paused outside the door. She looked hesitantly at Lexa’s mother. “Is she … I mean, is she … okay?”

There was no way she could ask what she really wanted to ask, which was how grotesque Lexa looked. She wanted to be prepared, but she was certain it would be impolite and unkind to press her mother for details.

“I won’t lie, dear, it’s a bit of a shock at first,” Mrs. Greene said, reaching up to fiddle with her pearls. “But you get used to it.”

Ariana nodded, placed her hand on the cold steel door handle, and walked inside. She half expected Lexa’s mother to come with her, but the door closed slowly and quietly behind her. The moment Ariana saw Lexa she froze, realizing how stupid her question to Mrs. Greene had been. Nothing could have prepared her for this. Lexa was turned away from her, but Ariana could see that one side of Lexa’s face was a huge purple bruise, so swollen Ariana could barely make out the slit of her eye. Angry black stitches clung to a huge gash along her cheekbone, and her battered face was covered with hundreds of tiny cuts.

Slowly, Lexa turned her head to face Ariana. The other side of her face looked relatively untouched except for a few red scratches. Her hair had been shaved back over her ear and a bandage was taped to her skull. Only one of her hands was visible—the one with all the IVs and monitors attached to it—and it lay limp atop the light blue hospital blanket.

“I know, right?” Lexa said, her voice scratchy. “I could have my own horror franchise.”

Ariana managed a small laugh and took a tentative step toward her friend. “Are you in much pain? Do you need anything?”

Lexa closed her eyes briefly as she swallowed, as if the mere act took concentration. “No. I’m good. I’m so hopped up on painkillers I feel nothing.”

Carefully, Ariana lowered herself onto the edge of the chair at Lexa’s bedside. She felt as if touching or moving anything could set off an alarm.

“Ana, listen … I asked you to come in here because I wanted to tell you … I’ve decided I’m going to tell my parents about what happened with Lily.”

Suddenly Ariana felt as if the floor had dropped out from under her. She reached out and grasped the cool metal safety rail around Lexa’s bed as her vision darkened with gray spots.

“No,” was all she could think to say.

“I have to, Ana,” Lexa said, her voice sounding tinny and very far away. “It’s going to be okay. It was all done in self-defense. I’m sure my father will make sure nothing happens to you. But I have to tell them. Clearly, I have to tell them,” she added, looking down at her broken body. “I can’t handle it anymore. You have to understand.”

The temperature in the room seemed to grow warmer with each passing moment. Ariana reached up a

nd tugged at the collar of her sweater, trying to breathe. Trying to think. Trying to see past the gray spots. This could not happen. She could not let this happen. This would mean the end of everything.

And then she saw it. Sitting on a countertop on the opposite side of Lexa’s bed. A silver tray lined with medical equipment. A pair of scissors. A roll of gauze. A scalpel. A syringe. Slowly, Ariana pushed herself to her feet and walked around the end of Lexa’s bed.

“Do you want to talk to them with me?” Lexa asked, following Ariana with her eyes. “If we told them the story together … exactly how it happened … it might come out better.”

Ariana glanced down at the tube running into Lexa’s left arm. It was filled with dark red blood. She was receiving a transfusion even as they talked.

“Sure,” she said, her voice flat. “Sure, I’ll do it with you.”

“Really?” Lexa’s head lifted a centimeter from her pillow, then fell back again. Apparently just that effort was too much for her. She closed her eyes and breathed out through her mouth. “Thank you, Ana. I knew you’d understand.”