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“She said yes!” Gulliver shouts. “Izabella Rhodes is going to be my wife.”
When the blond guy reaches us, he claps Gulliver on the arm, then scoops me into the air in a dramatic and very familiar bear hug. “Izzy, I’m so fucking happy for you guys,” he says, like we’re the best of friends and he’s genuinely congratulating me.
“Izabella,” Penelope snaps from beside me, her eyes wide and horrified.
The blond guy lowers me to my feet, wiggles his eyebrows playfully at me, then spins around to my sister. “Penelope, you must be over the moon. Your sister’s engaged before graduation, and to a Winslow, no less.” His tone is light and happy, but his words are a very pointed dig that my sister doesn’t fail to notice.
“I’m over the moon, obviously,” she says through gritted teeth. “Izabella, could I speak with you for a moment?” she asks, her lips twisted into a smile, her eyes filled with fury and recrimination.
I feel myself shrink beneath her barely restrained anger, but I literally have no idea what to say. I don’t have an explanation for anything that’s happened this morning. Gulliver and I have spoken to each other on exactly three occasions, and I’ve never even seen the blond guy before.
“So?” another guy asks, rushing toward us, his mop of chocolate-brown curls bouncing as he runs up the steps.
“She said yes!” Gulliver cries, pulling me close again.
“Congratulations,” the curly-haired guy says, hauling Gulliver in for an enthusiastic hug, before turning to me. “Welcome to the family, Izzy,” the guy says, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my cheek like we’ve known each other for years. “I mean, you’ve been family since you and Gulliver got together, but now it’s official.”
“Izabella,” my sister screams my name, demanding my attention.
“Sorry, Penny, but I’m not letting you steal my fiancée. You can have girl time later,” Gulliver says, winking at her mockingly as he drops his arm from around my shoulders and reaches for my hand, wrapping his fingers firmly around mine and pulling me away before I have a chance to argue.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shout at Gulliver, rushing to keep up with his long-legged stride.
Ignoring me, he waves, calls hello, and smiles widely at everyone we pass.
“Gulliver, you need to let go of me,” I say a little louder this time. But he ignores me again, pulling me through the hallways until we finally stop outside a familiar door.
“Open it,” he says, his unrelenting grip on my hand not loosening as he tips his head in the direction of my darkroom.
“I…” I say, stalling and trying to think of something to say.
Tutting loudly, he pulls me roughly toward him, unbuttoning my blazer and removing the key from the inside pocket. With a smug smirk, he pushes the key into the lock and opens the door, forcing me inside, before following me in and closing and locking the door behind him.
Stumbling forward, I move away from him, my eyes wide and my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “What are you doing?” I cry, backing up until I’ve put as much space between us as I can in the small room. My heart is hammering in my chest. I’m locked in a disused room with a boy who aggressively propositioned me the last time we were alone together. I’m an idiot. Why didn’t I argue, or fight, or do something other than placidly allow myself to get shut in here with him?
Fear hits me like a ball of ice in my chest, and I shuffle along the back wall, placing the old, dusty couch between us, like it will protect me.
“Calm down,” Gulliver says, eyeing me with amusement, his lip curving up at one side.
“I don’t know what’s going on. Why are we in here? What was all that…?” I wave my hand toward the door, unsure what to even say. “All that show outside for?”
A knock on the door startles me, and I instinctively try to take another step back, but my spine is already against the wall, and there’s nowhere else for me to go. Rolling his eyes at me, Gulliver turns and unlocks the door, opening it an inch and peering through the gap. My heart starts to race when he pushes it wide and the two boys from the steps stroll into the room, positioning themselves on either side of Gulliver, matching grins etched across their faces.
When the door closes again, my fingers tighten, gripping the back of the couch like I could use it as a weapon. I have no idea why I’m here or what they have planned for me, but whatever it is, I’m trapped in the one place in this school that, until now, had brought me peace. This was my safe haven, and now I have an awful feeling it’s going to become a nightmare.
“Jesus, they really are fucking identical,” the blond boy says, his eyes running over me like I’m a painting at a museum.
“I told you,” Gulliver murmurs, staring at me with the same intensity as his friend.
“I think we’re scaring her,” the curly-haired boy says.
“Tell them who you are,” Gulliver demands.
“Tell me why I’m here first,” I ask, hoping that some Penelope-style bravado might get me some answers.
“You first. Tell them what your name is,” Gulliver snaps back, crossing his arms across his chest and making the sleeves of his uniform blazer pull taut across the muscles in his arms.
“My name is Izabella Rhodes,” I admit quietly, balking slightly at the sound of my own name coming from my lips.
