Week five of The Social Experiment, they’ve announced a midweek Q & A with three other couples in Finley Hall. My stomach knots up at the thought of being put under the white-hot spotlight once again, but considering the fact Lane and I will be on stage with six other people, it takes the pressure off a bit. Lane and I are solid. A satisfied smile comes to me as I drive the familiar street through my hometown. Ever since Lane and I came back to Snow Valley for that fabulously cheesy picnic date—and I mean cheesy in the yummiest way—I’ve had a hankering for home. There’s something about a small town and all of its charm that gives me that cozy feeling I yearn so much for. Not that Moon Ridge is big city living by any stretch of the imagination. Nope. It’s more or less a cozy small town itself with a big bustling university tied to the edge of town. But not Snow Valley. There’s not a soul here that has anything to do on a Friday night, certainly not a kegger at a frat house.

Mom and I are meeting at Winston’s Waffle House for breakfast. It’s renowned for its platter-sized pancakes and waffles that are soul meltingly delicious. People come from as far as Denver just to indulge in the oversized portions they’re famous for at Winston’s. There’s usually a line out the door, and an hour wait, but Mom does Elizabeth Winston’s hair for free in exchange for the right to have a table anytime she wishes. My mother has soaked up every benefit possible out of the Cut ’n Curl. She’s as much a shrewd socialite as she is a shrewd businesswoman, and I admire her for both. My mother is headstrong, and I think she’s gifted that attribute to me. It’s been both a blessing and a curse. For as long as I can remember, I’ve mimicked my mother’s actions, intentionally and unintentionally. So it seems understandable that when she and my father announced the fact they were splitting up for good that summer, I immediately began doubting my own relationship with Lane would ever work out. My doubts and suspicions got the better of me, and I’m not proud of what I did in the end, but, nevertheless, all of those doubts and suspicions were right. A surge of rage drifts through me as I settle in a parking spot near the front.

The sign on top of the restaurant is in the shape of a giant smiling waffle that rotates and waves. I take a quick picture of it and text it to Lane with the caption, Jealous much?

It took great restraint for me not to haul him out here with me this morning, but it’s too soon to bring him around my mother of all people. Especially since she’s already looking to set me up with other people. Not that I’d ever let my mother set me up. Not with Marty McNeal’s son, Jenson the dentist, not with anyone.

My phone lights up, and it’s a text from Lane. Hell yes, I’m jealous. What are you doing there without me? I don’t believe we ever had a proper rematch. I’m still down to straighten out my record. #truechampion

“Ha!” I belt out a laugh as I read his message. One of our last good dates was right here at Winston’s, where we held our infamous pancake competitions. Lane and I would challenge one another to a flapjack tournament of Olympic levels just to see whose stomach would threaten to burst first. Usually he won, hands down, and as competitive as I am, I didn’t mind losing the carb competition once in a while, but the last time we were here I went for the gold and beat him by six solid bites.

I text back as I head on in. It’s on. And if I weren’t meeting my mother, I would have dragged you here by the hair if I had to.

I hit Send and glance around the crowded establishment that holds the scent of coffee and bacon, only to find my mother waving wildly from the back. There are two other bodies occupying the booth, and just as I squint in to inspect them, Jenson McNeil looks up at me and offers a friendly wave. “Oh my God. I’m going to kill her.” My fingers move quickly across my phone.

Marty and Jenson McNeil are here! I think I might be walking into a blind date. My mother is the worst. I’m sorry.

I hit Send with a twinge of regret. I don’t know why I feel the need to disclose everything with Lane at the moment, but things are going so well I don’t want anything to ruin it for us, least of all my mother.

My phone lights up again. Wow. Have fun!? Tell Jenson I’m pretty good at rearranging teeth myself. Then ask him if it’s possible to perform reconstructive dental surgery on your own mouth. That should get the message across. Kidding. Sort of.

Nice. I stuff my phone deep into my purse as I come up on the tiny table. I can’t help but note that both Marty and Mom are wearing outfits in the same purple hue. I guess I didn’t get the lilac memo.

“Violet Hathaway!” Marty springs to her feet to greet me, as does poor Jenson. Marty is an entire foot taller than my mother with over dyed dark hair—my mother’s doing. Jenson is an entire foot taller than me—Marty’s doing.

Marty pulls me into an embrace, as does my mother, and once the hug-a-thon is over, Jenson and I exchange a quick handshake. We all take our seats, with me landing directly across from the blind date in question. I’ve met Jenson a time or two here and there. He’s older than me by like a decade? Honestly, I have no clue. He has classically handsome features and dark eyes that feel as if they’re looking right into my soul at the moment, and not in a good way. That’s sort of what I remember about Jenson—his dark mysterious prying eyes. He’s dressed business-casual, the requisite Saturday attire for a dentist, I’m assuming. We’ve bumped into one another around town as the years have gone by, usually while with our mothers. Marty and Mom are in about six different clubs together, and my mother’s conversations are usually peppered with Marty’s name. They are a trouble-making duo and, right about now, they are certainly making trouble.

Mom pulls my hand forward and pets my arm as if my sweater suddenly morphed into a kitten. “Vi here is double majoring in journalism and business!” She swats the air as she coos to Jenson.

Jenson raises a brow as if he found this scholastic tidbit impressive, but I quickly hold up a finger to correct my overeager mother.

“It’s just one major, and it’s communication. I changed it last fall.” I cast a dirty look my mother’s way. She is so going to pay for this once this catastrophe is through, and she knows it.

“Well, that’s great.” Jenson nods as if this still somehow held his interest. “I was initially a communication major myself.”

Marty and Mom work themselves up into hysterics at the thought.

“Would you look at that?” Mom cries as if she just scored the winning lotto numbers. “The two of you already have so much in common.”

Marty lifts her purse over her shoulder, and for a fleeting moment I’m flooded with relief over the prospect they might be leaving. Hey, maybe Mom simply ran into Marty and Jenson while they were busy wrapping up their own waffle-fest? God, how I hope that’s true. I could almost forgive my mother for this infraction. Almost.

Marty taps her hand over mine and offers a saccharin smile my way. “Please excuse us.” She looks to Jenson. “The Red Hat Society is meeting in Bridgeport this afternoon, and if we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for tea off.” She gives a little wink as she and my mother amble out of Winston’s Waffle House as if the roof were about to cave in.

“Oh my God.” I bury my face in my hands a moment before meeting up with poor Jenson’s confused yet smiling face. “I’m mortified. I apologize for my mother. I’m sure this was all her doing.”

“Oh no.” He settles his napkin over his lap. “You’re not letting my mother off the hook so easily. She’s done her fair share of ambush dating in my time. But I think this takes the cake—the pancake.” He leans in, offering a pitiful grimace. “And if you want to leave, I will completely understand. But if you decide to stay, I promise you’ll get a great breakfast out of it.”

“I did come for the pancakes.” I give a guilty shrug. “And, full disclosure, I’m sort of already seeing someone.”

“Oh, I know,” he says wistfully. “As soon as my mother mentioned your name, I thought it sounded familiar. I’m all caught up on the show. I admit to being a reality TV junkie. You seem pretty into your ex. So, it’s true?”

“It’s true.” And for the first time since I stepped into this place, I feel as if I can finally exhale.

“So it must have been strange at first, being thrust together like that. How long did it take for sparks to fly?” he teases as the waitress comes by and takes our orders.

“To answer your question, about five seconds,” I say once the waitress leaves.

“Is he the one?”

“He is most definitely the one.” Wow, I’ve said those words out loud. I’ve sent them out into the universe. They are real—official. Just like Lane and me.

Breakfast comes, and we enjoy a warm conversation about Snow Valley and all of the points of interest that we haunted as teenagers. It turns out Jenson is a great guy with a budding dental practice, and I couldn’t be happier for him on both fronts. Once we’re through, he walks me out and offers me a pat on the back as we’re about to part ways.

“It was great getting to know you, Vi. Please, if you ever need a dentist, you know where to find me. I’ll be on the corner of Main and Rose Bloom.”

“I promise, first sign of a cavity, I’m booking an appointment.”

He winces with a laugh. “Please don’t wait that long.” He steps away, then jogs right back. “Oh, and Vi? If by chance things don’t work out with your ex, I would love to take you out sometime. Maybe something a little fancier than waffles?” He gives a light wink before disappearing into the parking lot.

Huh. Looks as if I’ve got prospects. I pull out my phone and text Lane.

Date went great. He says he’s open to having you as the best man at our wedding. The diamond on my engagement ring is the size of a—you guessed it—waffle!

My phone lights up as Lane texts back. I may never eat another waffle again. You up for dinner at the Underground tonight? I’m competitive as hell.

I gasp at the thought. Lane and I haven’t done anything in public without going through hair and makeup first. Maybe it’s time. I think it is.

I text him back. You bet. See you at six?

He shoots one right back. It’s a date. Don’t tell your fiancé, and neither will I.

A soft laugh bubbles from me.

Sorry, Mom, but I’m in love with Lane Cooper all over again.

---

Several hours later, and a few too many outfit changes later as well, Sophie and Ember walk down to the Underground with me.

“This is monumental.” Sophie fluffs my hair as we step into the bar-slash-eatery, and the scent of something fresh off the grill lights up our senses. The band is crooning away at ear-splitting decibels, and the backbeat of the music vibrates through my chest. “A public outing? You and Lane are really together now and in l-o-v-e.”

“Please.” Ember rolls her eyes. “No offense to the two of you, but scientists have just discovered what most people believe is love is simply confused with lust in a relationship’s beginning stages. And once her need to lust, and his need to thrust, are no longer in the picture, what you’re left with is a beautiful friendship—or a beautiful divorce.” Her shoulders give a perky bounce. “I see about ten hot guys at the bar. I think it’s time to belly up. Smell you girls later!” Her fingers flutter in the air as she waves.

Sophie grunts as we watch Em dance her way to a group of frat boys, each nursing a beer. “One day Ember Sparks is going to fall head over stiletto heels in love, and we’ll be the first to reiterate what science has to say on the topic.”

“I hope she’s slammed hard in the lust department, and he slams hard with those thrusts for her sake.” We share a quick laugh. “Love is so complicated. I honestly think it might be best if Em sits it out for a while.” I love both Sophie and Ember as if they were my sisters, and I wouldn’t want to see either of them dealing with half the issues Lane and I are saddled with.

“Hey”—Sophie slings an arm over my shoulders—“you and I are doing great. So what if it was rough in the beginning? Most things worth having usually are.”

We spot Lane and Rowen sitting as far away from the band as possible.

“Look at this,” I marvel as we come upon our men, and they both stand to greet us. “We’re about to have our second double date.”

Rowen pulls Sophie in close and seemingly takes a bite out of her neck. “No way.” He waves me over into the seat he just vacated. “Tonight is all about you guys.”

They start to take off and Sophie shouts, “Enjoy your first night out as a couple!”

I’m about to laugh or cry or shout back some snarky, yet lewd, comment when a couple emerges from behind them, and I bite down on my tongue instead.

Wen and Carrie each hold the look of surprise as they head this way. My brother also looks moved to kill, thus deflating any hopes of a nice, relaxing evening out with my ex. Not that there’s anything ex about Lane and me anymore. We’re on again, and all of that off again bullshit is far behind us.

My brother’s features harden, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was ready to throw fists and vomit simultaneously. “What’s this? A public display of affection? It can’t be.” Wen gives a bitter laugh as he glances around. “So, where are the cameras?” He takes a seat across from us, and Carrie does the same.

Her tiny peach lips curl into a bow. “I can’t believe this! We’re going to be on TV! I’m going to have to call my mom! And then, of course, she’s going to have to call her mom.” She looks to Lane as if he cared. “My grandmother was in a movie herself when she was a baby, so I guess you could say my family has been in showbiz for generations. And I guess that makes me a showbiz kid.” She thrusts her hand his way. “I’m Carrie Rhodes. I think you’re adorable. The girls at Alpha Omega think so, too. If you ever want to swing by and say hello, I know my sorority sisters would die on the spot. And if you have any merch you can sign, even better, but if not, I’m sure there will be many a body part waiting for your strong capable hands to autograph away.” Her lashes flutter a mile a minute as she picks up a menu and begins to fan herself.

I look to Wen with a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin that I can’t help but display. “Does this model blow-up doll come with a shut-off valve, or do you have to manually deflate her at night?”

Wen closes his eyes a minute, because deep down, he knows I’m right. “What’s going on here? Is this for real?” There’s a sadness in his eyes that’s unmistakable. Once when we were little, Wen had a turtle that he just loved, and after an unfortunate accident with a coyote, I had never seen my big brother so very upset. Something in his heavy gaze brings me right back to the sorrowful day. I guess that would make me the turtle and Lane the big bad coyote.

“Yes.” Lane has that look on his face that says get over it. “This is real. Vi and I are real. And we also happen to be adults about to have dinner. Why does that eat at you so much?”

A breath hitches in my throat. Lane was doing so well up until that last line. Those sounded an awful lot like fighting words to me.

Wen tips his chin down as those heavy brows take center stage. He has always had the most expressive brows. Those fuzzy caterpillars can run an entire rainbow of emotion, and right about now, they’re saying buckle up, this is going to be a bumpy ride.

“Why does this eat at me so much?” Wen parrots back to him. Another indication things are falling to shit quickly.

Carrie and I exchange a nervous glance, and that’s when I know trouble is afoot. Anytime Carrie Rhodes and I are on the same page, there is something rotten in the streets of Moon Ridge. My apologies to Shakespeare for butchering his famous line.

Wen leans in toward Lane. “First, I didn’t come here tonight to start shit. I came because I wanted to tell my sister that our parents have news they’re wanting to share.”

My insides freeze solid. The last time my parents had news they wanted to share with us, they turned my world upside down with their split. And I’m still dealing with the very real, very visceral ramifications. I look to both Lane and Wen. I don’t dare ask my brother to extrapolate nor will I.

Wen growls at Lane as if he were about to pounce. “I have warned both of you to stay away from one another. Dude, you’re the one who told me last year at this very same time that it was a good thing the two of you broke it off when you did. You didn’t want to drag it out another minute, and yet here you are, coming back for seconds.”

My stomach clenches as I shoot a quick look to Lane.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Lane glances to me, his expression still very much set on anger. “I didn’t want to drag out the fighting. I wanted you back the minute we were over—before we were over—when it was clear I already lost you.”

Wen’s chest bucks with a laugh. “You know you’re like a brother to me, but that’s my blood.” He points hard in my direction. “Did you want my sister back when you slept with three different girls within a span of six months?”

Lane glowers at Wen as if he wants to kill him. “We weren’t together,” he says it low as if fully ashamed of the facts.

“Wen”—I pull his arm off the table in an attempt to make him stand—“I think you’d better leave.”

He jerks his hand in the air and nearly decapitates me in the process. “I’m not going anywhere,” he thunders. His full attention, his molten rage still pinned on Lane.

“Dude”—Lane stands, his chest puffed out—“you almost knocked her out.”

“I’ll show you who I’m going to knock out.” Wen dives over the table and takes Lane to the floor as both Carrie and I scream our vocal cords raw.

Lane and Wen tumble and throw a steady stream of punches as Rowen and a couple of guys I recognize from the football team do their best to pull them apart. The staff from the Underground congregates around us and swiftly orders the entire bunch of us outside.

“Nice going!” I shout into my brother’s face. His lip is contorted and bleeding from the corner. Lane’s left eye is shut, and judging by my brother’s mighty left hook, it will be a miracle if he ever opens it again. “Would it kill you, just once, to give us your blessing?”

Carrie tries to dab his mouth with a tissue, and Wen winces as he turns away. “I did, Vi.” He staggers forward, and those sad dark eyes of his meet with mine. “I gave you my blessing the first time around. And after the two of you landed in the wood chipper, I knew there was no way I wanted either one of you to go through that again.” He shoots a lethal look to Lane. “I sided with you once, but not this time. And I’m certainly not going to stand around and watch the two of you implode again. You’re not happening.” He takes off, and Carrie traipses right along with him. Her blonde head turns my way before they disappear into the parking lot, and she sticks her tongue out at the two of us.

“God.” I wrap my arms around poor injured Lane. “Ignore them both. They are equally ridiculous.” I look up and meet with those vibrant eyes of his that I’m so in love with. I love every last part of Lane Cooper. “Are you hurt? Wait, don’t say a word. Let me get you home and I’ll make sure to kiss every last inch of you and make it better.” I wince. “I’m sorry my brother is such a nut job.”

“Don’t apologize.” Lane presses a warm kiss over the top of my head. “He loves you. He doesn’t want to see you hurt.”

I shake my head. “You would never hurt me, Lane. And I would never hurt you.” The word again is distinctly missing in that last sentence. Lane was never to blame for anything that happened. It was me all along.

Lane studies me with a somber heartbreak, his left eye swelling painfully fast. “I know.” His mouth lands softly over mine.

I pull back as we start toward his apartment. “We’d better get to your place. It looks like I’ve got a lot of territory to cover with my mouth.”

“Miles.” He gives my hip a light pinch. “And I was hoping to hear more about your date with the dentist.”

“Sorry, sweetie. He’s off the roster for the foreseeable future. Tonight’s just about you and me.”

“That sounds like a perfect combination.”

“I thought so, too.”

---

Wednesday night finally rolls around, the first date of the week, which will be held where it all began in Finley Hall. During hair and makeup, I meet Denise, a tired looking sophomore who swears she hates her ex more than ever. Baily, a perky brunette with an unimaginable amount of energy, who claims she’s still on the fence, but has slept with her ex three times during the last five weeks. I’m up on her on that one. And Arizona, a petite-framed girl with hair the color of an ominous sky, a mixture of blue and gray. She’s madly in love with her ex once again, but has prophesized on three different occasions in the last twenty minutes that they will never make it to spring. Such hatred, such passion, such a downer. That about sums the three of them up in a nutshell.

Seth comes over and offers us a group pep talk as we’re miked up by a swarm of interns. He flicks his finger my way as the rest of the breakup brigade heads onto the stage, and the audience goes wild.

“Everything okay with you and Lane?” His forehead creases with worry, and I think the last time Seth looked this way I was being thrust into a waiting ambulance.

“Everything is more than great. Why? Did he say something?”

“No, never mind. It’s not important.” He shuttles me out the door, and the cool air of the auditorium hits me.

Finley has always held a slight musty odor. I swear I will forever associate that scent with public humiliation. Not that I plan on humiliating myself tonight. Nope. I have a feeling Lane and I will be the only boring old normal couple on stage, and I rather like it that way.

A thought comes to me just before I step out in front of the world, and I spin back toward Seth.

“It was the black eye!” I let out a short-lived laugh. “I only beat him when he’s naughty.” I’m about to give a quick wink when my voice comes back to me in triplicate, and I cringe as Seth points to the mic. He spins me around and gives me a light shove until my feet carry me to the remaining empty sofa, smack in the middle of the other three.

“And last but never least”—the ominous voice booms from above—“Violet Hathaway.”

The room breaks out into a deafening applause, save for a small handful of boos from somewhere in the back on the left-hand side. Most likely from Carrie and her snotty sorority sisters. I’ve seen two Free Lane sweatshirts on campus this week, and I’m tempted to give the entire left side of the room the finger.

A bevy of cameramen are pointed at us, and the blinding white lights coming from the back have turned the entire audience into a gentle haze of darkened faces.

“Now, please join me in welcoming our brave men.” Oz chortles like the sexist pig he obviously is.

Why are these men so brave? Aren’t we brave for putting up with them? I’m suddenly moved to gift Oz the finger, too, only I wouldn’t know where to point it.

The crowd cheers as if the entire football, basketball, and volleyball teams just walked onto the stage in the nude.

A smile springs to my lips for the first time as Lane lands next to me and we share a quick peck. The others must have done it, too, because the audience has taken over with their whoops and whistles. Lane wraps his arm around me, and we relax against one another, galvanizing ourselves as one. Whatever this evening brings, we’re ready.

Oz starts in on a snooze-fest of questions to which we all answer amicably in turn. He focuses on Denise and her ex, Richard, and their shared hatred for one another has the audience rolling from the nonstop string of snarky barbs they’re freely lobbing.

Up next, Baily and her beau, Stanford, regale the room with one too many explicit details regarding their on-campus romps. Tower? Check. Library stacks? Double check. Coffeeology restroom? Triple orgasmic check. It’s safe to say I will never be using the facilities in that java-based establishment again, and I’m betting neither will seven hundred of my closest peers.

Arizona and her ex, Pete, both admit to dabbling in the bedroom but don’t quite feel the heat they once had.

“Violet and Lane,” Oz booms, and the room grows quiet awaiting his milquetoast line of questioning. “You have by far exceeded the expectations of the program.” A mild applause breaks out in our honor. “Your success has been an inspiration to others.”

I glance over and catch Denise nodding wildly in agreement, Baily looks disinterested in general, and Arizona is rolling her eyes.

“Your breakup was a harsh one, and yet you were able to overcome extreme obstacles. Outline for us what happened to elicit the initial breakup and how you overcame these great difficulties to be the exemplary couple you are today.”

I swallow hard, and I can feel Lane’s body tense against mine. Our breakup was hard, it was epic, and it wasn’t for public consumption.

“We, um”—my voice wavers as I clear my throat—“were having a tough time for about six months before the actual breakup.” My face heats by ten degrees, and my body breaks out into an instant sweat. Whitewash it. Whitewash it for God’s sake. Do not show off your dirty laundry in exchange for ratings.

Lane gives my side a light tap as if to say he’s got this. “Vi and I were struggling, and it was those struggles that brought upon our demise.”

I shoot him a look that says good one. Way to wash the past white as snow.

“What exactly were you struggling with, Lane?”

Since when did Oz morph into an asshole? I’m pretty sure digging into the briar patch of the past will only leave us cut and bleeding.

Lane shifts in his seat as his body heats wildly next to mine. If this keeps up, we’ll erupt in flames, and that might be an easier out than digging up old skeletons who have their flesh still rotting on their carcasses. The past smells far too foul to ever revisit, and yet the room has quieted to a hush in eager anticipation of it.

Lane looks to me and shrugs. “You want to do this?”

If he had worded it any other way, if he hadn’t thrown the ball in my court, I would have been able to get us out of this somehow. But I can’t say no. It’s just one of those things you know you can’t say in a situation like this.

“We have nothing to hide,” I say, piercing him with all of my being as I shout the words hide it from them over and over again in my mind.

“Bullshit!” someone shouts from deep in the crowd, and the audience gives a quiet titter.

Are they laughing at us? Wait a minute. Less than a moment ago, we were the unofficial homecoming king and queen of this ragtag brood, and all of a sudden they want blood. I knew this was going to end in disaster. I shoot Arizona and her Debbie Downer attitude a quick nod because, face it, I bet she knew it, too. Kudos to her for beating me to the punch.

Lane clears his throat. “Vi and I had several disagreements that slowly eroded our relationship.”

Oz’s mic pops, letting me know he’s about to pipe up. I’d like to pop him. I’m going to make it my life’s mission to discover his identity and do just that. “Did these disagreements have anything to do with your propensity to wander?”

The room lights up in a choir of oohs, and suddenly, it feels as if I’ve been transported to seventh grade.

My body ignites with a full-on blaze, and I hold my breath in anticipation of his answer.

“Yes.” Lane blinks a dry smile my way. “Violet had a lot going on at home. Her parents were—”

“Please don’t drag my parents into this.” It’s one thing to own up to it in private, but the last thing I want is for my parents to feel bad for the carnage I caused. I lift my hands with annoyance, and half the crowd claps and cheers. I’ll admit, it feels good to have someone on my side. The very reason I never wanted to bring any of this bullshit up was because I was tired of the same old arguments.

“Violet”—Lane’s voice is a touch more curt than it has been these last few weeks—“I have never even looked at another girl. Your insecurities—”

“Ha!” I laugh right in his face. “Back the train up, mister. You looked at four girls, the one you made out with as if you lost a solid gold Krugerrand down her throat, and the three you slept with—if that is the true number. It could be thirteen for all I know.” His eyes enlarge like silver dollars. “Secondly, I don’t have insecurities.” My God, how I hate that word. “I had suspicions that you proved correct.”

His features harden. Those lantern green eyes of his spear into mine, and the cloying tension feels as if a corpse just landed between us.

“Yes.” His voice is even-keeled, too controlled for it to ever be safe. “I did that. I did it all, but only because you rode me like a steer, branding me with your accusations until I couldn’t take it anymore. Before we ever set foot into the party that night, we both knew we were over. You told me I was free to feel up any floozy I wanted. But only after you berated me for doing so for six solid months prior. You were relentless in your unfounded persecutions, and I was convinced you hated me. I had somehow made you miserable, and you wanted out. Your trivial, constant puckering about who I was looking at, where I was spending my time, how I might have felt about other girls was eating both you and me alive.” His voice hits a crescendo, deafening me with its blow. Lane had torn the lid off Pandora’s box, and there was no way to put it back on again.

A moment bounces by, and it’s just Lane and me continuing an argument we started last year.

“How dare you.” My voice shakes with anger. “You make me sound like a fucking lunatic.” It’s so quiet in the room. No one dares take their next breath.

He winces as if I struck him and, honest to God, I’m about to.

“You weren’t a lunatic.” His voice softens. “When are you going to realize you were negatively affected by the fact your parents split up? Your own brother agreed with me, Violet.” His voice is hitting its upper register once again, and a boiling rage fills me. “Dammit, I love you. I loved you then, and I love you now. You needed help, but you refused to get it. I was a walking target, and you took hit after hit.”

An incredulous huff comes from me. “Oh, poor Lane! You’re just the little victim in all of this, aren’t you?” His jaw clenches as his eyes turn crimson on a dime. There you go. Turn on the waterworks and really make me look like a grade A ass.

“You said you cheated.” He swallows audibly as he looks to me with that hard gaze for answers.

Shit. I’m seething. So very pissed. My God, why did I ever spew that lie? And look where it got me? Forget Wen siding with him. Everyone in the room is going to side with him. Unless, of course, I spill the truth.

“I lied.” I give a little shrug, my expression still stone-faced and angry. “I said that to hurt you the way that you hurt me.” My muscles begin to shake as I edge my way to the other end of the sofa. Sitting next to Lane Cooper is the last place I want to be. “I wanted you to feel an ounce of the pain I went through.”

He huffs a dull angry laugh. “Congratulations, Vi. You achieved your goal.” A lone fat tear glides down his cheek, his eyes still so laser-focused on me with their rage. “All of them.”

I shake my head at him in disbelief. “If it wasn’t for this stupid experiment, you would have never come back to me. You would have been with one girl after the next, and you would never have thought twice about what we had.”

“Stop!” he barks so loud my bones shake. His face is red with rage, his jaw distended with fury. “You are not going to bait me with that again. I won’t let you. You’re the only girl I’ve wanted, Vi. You know that.”

Oz’s mic pops. “Then why did you cheat, Lane?” His tone is annoyingly slow, and I’m suddenly moved to throttle everyone who is a part of this social disaster.

My heart thumps unnaturally, and the room gives a slight spin.

I can feel my dirty little secret bubbling to the surface. And what the hell. If we’re going to have it out, I may as well lay all of the ugly cards on the table. “I paid a girl to kiss him.”

The crowd takes in a collective gasp. Lane’s eyes grow so enormously wide I’m terrified for him and me. But a part of me feels a deep sense of relief. After all this time, I held that secret in my arms like a boulder. I didn’t want to hold it anymore. I couldn’t.

Someone runs up the side step and is tackled by security. “Violet, enough!” I glance over to see Wen shoving a security guard away as he takes a voluntary step back.

“No, it’s okay.” I give a ragged sigh. The world drowns out in a blur as tears of my own start to fall. “I pulled Lane into the party. We were arguing.” I look to Lane and straighten, shaking back my hair as a slight breeze cools me. “You hated me at that point, and I knew it. I placed bottle after bottle of beer in your hand that night. You’re right, Lane. I baited you.” My body explodes in a cold sweat as my voice booms from my lips. I can’t believe I’m doing this. The entire world will hate me now, and more than that, Lane will hate me for sure. It’s as if I’ve floated out of my body and am watching all this unfold from the ceiling. “We went at it one final round, my accusations, your exonerating rebuttals—and that’s when Collette Jameson walked into the party. I knew she was hot for you—even though she had a plus one of her own—and ever in need of cash, so I thought I’d bring the two together, and boy did she go for it. And so did you.” I rip the mic from my shirt, and my blouse falls open, exposing my bra, and I couldn’t care less. “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.” I glare out into the crowd before looking back at Lane. “Least of all you.”

I take off running down the stairs, past Wen and out the side exit, welcoming the icy arms of winter as they do their best to strangle me with their glacial grip. Tears come fast, and I don’t hold back.

“Vi!” Wen catches up to me and pulls me in between the English building and a row of bushes. “Don’t move.”

“Violet!” Lane’s voice booms as he bolts out of Finley like a missile. He takes off for Canterbury as my name echoes across campus all the way there.

“You’re not going back there tonight.” Wen wraps his arms around me with a defeated sigh. “You’re coming to Greer with me.”

And I do.

I leave with Wendell, and I’m pretty sure I’m never coming back to Leland ever again.