Chapter 33

Alice

I have never felt so disgusted in my life. It’s like my stomach is churning; I’m resisting the urge to retch, but just barely. Something about the way Vedant and Chiara are standing together by the lockers just doesn’t sit right with me.

Not. At. All.

They’re too close. There’s an ease between them that shouldn’t be there. One that I’ve worked hard to ensure didn’t manifest.

Of course, it’s not like they look romantic. Chiara’s arms are folded, her brow furrowed, while Vedant leans in, saying something low. His expression is unreadable.

But still, it’s too much.

I slow my pace, pretending to read something on the bulletin board beside me while I angle myself closer. No matter how hard I strain to snatch a sound, all I gather is fragments over the bustle of the school hallway.

It’s not enough to figure out what they’re saying, and it certainly isn’t enough to satisfy me.

When Chiara limps away on her broken ankle, Vedant’s eyes follow her for a second too long. It’s almost as though he’s making sure she is walking alright, seeing her safely off.

My stomach twists. Now I really am running the risk of throwing up my lunch.

This can’t be happening. Surely I’m imagining it. Vedant wouldn’t be so stupid as to fall for someone as empty-headed as Chiara, right? Especially when I’m standing right here.

But he doesn’t turn to me. He just watches her go until she has disappeared into the crowd, and leaves.

By the time the bell rings, I’m already walking with determination. One moment I had been stunned still next to the bulletin board, and now I’m stomping my way over to the best gossip in the school. I know I shouldn’t, but curiosity wins.

Lauren is just about to push her way into the classroom when she catches my eye. Something must be in my expression to give her pause; perhaps my attempt at a cheery grin has fallen flat, and my true fury is still peeking through.

“Hey,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Have you noticed Vedant and Chiara lately? Something’s… off. Right? Or is it just me?”

Lauren raises a brow. “You mean how they’ve been weirdly friendly all of a sudden? Yeah, I saw them walking out of school together last week. Didn’t think they had it in them to kiss and make up.”

My pulse skips. “Kiss?”

Lauren titters. “It’s just an expression, but who knows? They’ve gotten very close very fast.”

I can’t help myself. “It’s disgusting,” I groan.

She shrugs. “If I were you, I’d go find out what’s going on. Maybe he’s helping her or something, poor little thing that she is. And with that broken ankle now… Well, I mean, look at her. She needs all the help she can get. But if he were my guy, I’d want to know what kind of ‘help’ she’s getting.”

Her tone drips with suggestion. I don’t know how much more insinuation I can take. Just the thought of them leaning an inch too close is shredding me apart from the inside out.

I tell myself it’s ridiculous. And yet the idea plagues me all day. It occupies my every thought during classes, to the point where I can no longer pay attention to the words the teachers are droning on about.

By the time the last bell rings, I’m practically running out of the building.

I hurry over to the familiar street I’ve visited multiple times and spot Vedant’s home easily. Some of the lights are on inside. My heart is pounding as I step closer to the window near the porch.

My mind is flooded with questions I plan to ask him. Now that I’ve cornered him alone, I’m going to get to the bottom of his feelings on this.

But when I lean forward and see a figure moving inside, it’s not Vedant.

It’s her. Chiara.

She’s sitting on his couch like she belongs there. Her crutch leans against the coffee table, and she’s flipping through a box in front of her. I can’t see the contents from where I’m standing, but all at once, I’m certain that whatever’s inside doesn’t belong to her.

The silly, greedy, poor orphan. How dare she take advantage of Vedant’s kindness and try to rob him blind? And to see her being so casual about it, practically lounging on his furniture while she rifles through his belongings…

I pull out my phone and hit record, gathering evidence. The camera catches the soft glow of the living room, her sitting there like she belongs. Surely Vedant will be horrified when I show him this little video.

“Let’s see how she explains this,” I mutter under my breath.

And then, because the thought of her terrified reaction is too delicious, I march to the door and knock. Hard.

Chiara

I nearly drop the box when I hear the knocks. I had been going through Vedant’s art supplies to help with an upcoming project. He had told me to see what was available in this box from his closet, but I’m not finding much.

Fortunately, I save the box before it can fall and hobble over to the door. But when I see who’s on the other side, I freeze, the air catching in my lungs.

It’s Alice.

She’s standing in the doorway, fury practically radiating off her. Her phone is still clutched in her hand, and she’s holding it so tightly her knuckles have bleached.

“You,” she practically growls.

“I… What?” I stammer. I instinctively back up a step, and a shot of pain lances through my injured ankle at the sudden movement.

She storms forward, pushing her way inside. Her eyes are sharp with disgust and something like accusation.

“Don’t play dumb. You think no one would notice? Sneaking around, robbing him while he’s too nice to realize what’s happening? You stupid little orphan. Did you think you’d really get away with it? I got it all on video!”

“Robbing him?” I repeat, stunned. “Alice, I’m not stealing anything.”

The suggestion is so outrageous that I almost can’t comprehend it. This doesn’t feel like it’s real. All I can do is blink at her for a moment.

“Liar.” Her lip curls. “You’re a charity case, Chiara. You show up out of nowhere, pretend to be hurt, and think everyone will overlook what you’re trying to do here? How convenient. Well, you’re not fooling me.”

My throat tightens. I want to yell, to tell her she has it all wrong, but the words get tangled somewhere in my throat. Shock and shame mingle to make me feel so wretched I can’t tell if I want to cry or scream or both.

“It’s not like that,” I manage, voice trembling. “I broke my ankle, and Vedant let me—”

She cuts me off with a harsh laugh. “Right. The little pity story. Do you think that seriously will make me forget what you truly are?”

Before I can answer, another voice joins the chaos, but this one is comparatively slow and calm. Dangerously so.

“Alice.” Vedant steps between us, his shoulders squared. “Enough.”

She blinks at him, confused. “You’re defending her? She’s—”

“She’s right,” he interrupts. “Chiara’s not robbing me. She’s staying here. With me.”