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“How long have you been at GAA?” the blond boy asks.
“Since I was a freshman,” I answer, realizing that I should have forced Gulliver to tell me what’s going on before I gave them any more information.
The curly-haired boy laughs, and the sound is so infectious, so full of mirth, that I bite my cheek to stop myself from smiling. “Bullshit,” he taunts.
“How is it possible that you’ve been here for years and yet no one knows you?” Gulliver demands, his brows furrowed together.
“Tell me why I’m here and why you put on that show outside first, then I’ll answer your questions,” I say, trying to sound braver than I actually feel.
His eyes narrow, and he assesses me again. It feels like he’s measuring me, judging me, but I’m not sure what he sees. “I don’t intend to marry your sister. I don’t care how much money the alliance between our families would bring my father. I don’t like Penelope, I don’t like your parents, and I don’t like the way our families have tried to force this on me. Something’s going on with you and your sister. I don’t know what it is, but it’s shady as fuck. So, when I saw a chance to fuck with Penelope, I took it.”
“You proposed to me in front of half of the school and made it seem like we’ve been together for years. All you did is fuck me over,” I hiss, my voice stronger when I process what he just said.
“No,” Gulliver hisses. “What I did was make sure that people know I’m not with Penelope. I can’t marry her if I’m engaged to you,” he says smugly.
The curly-haired boy laughs again, slinging his arm across Gulliver’s shoulders. “Time to pay the piper, Izabella,” he says, enunciating my name.
“What?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“Time to explain why no one knows you,” he says, tilting his head to the side.
“Oh.” Some of the tension falls from my shoulders, and I feel myself relax a little. “Nothing to explain really. I come to school every day, I go to class, and then I go home. It’s not my fault that people assume I’m my sister. The teachers all know I’m here. If anyone had taken the time to notice, they would have realized I wasn’t Penelope, but they haven’t.”
“And that’s it?” Gulliver asks.
“That’s it,” I say nonchalantly. I’m not stupid. I’m not about to admit that I pretend to be my sister to take her classes, or that without me, she would have broken the terms of the will already and lost the inheritance both she and my parents covet above everything else.
“So why does your driver drop off your sister, then wait until the very last minute to bring you back and drop you off? Why does he pick up Penelope, then come back half an hour later and get you?” Gulliver demands.
“I’m antisocial,” I say simply.
“I don’t believe her,” the blond guy announces, slapping Gulliver on the chest. “How ’bout you, bro?”
“Nope, smells like bullshit to me,” Gulliver says, never taking his eyes off me.
“Who are you?” I ask the blond guy, turning away from Gulliver to focus on him.
“Are you serious?” His brows furrow and his eyes narrow, like he thinks I’m playing with him.
“I’m antisocial,” I say again.
Gulliver scoffs lightly. “This is Davis Aldrich, and this,” he says, nodding in the curly-haired boy’s direction, “is Kip Tudor. Hawthorn Benedict is outside the door.”
I nod, unsure what else they want from me. They sealed my fate with their little performance earlier. My sister and parents won’t believe I wasn’t involved in this, despite the fact that they know Gulliver only figured out who I was two days ago. They won’t care that I’m as much a victim in this as they are. All they’ll see is me trying to sabotage my sister.
“Can I go now?” I ask.
All three boys look at me like I’ve lost my mind, but really, what did they expect me to say? None of this is real.
“That’s it?” Gulliver asks. “You’ve got nothing else to say?”
“What else do you want me to say? Should I offer you congratulations? Do you expect me to clap, scream, and slap you on the back for fucking with my life? This is just a game to you, Gulliver, but I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with the consequences. You’ve humiliated me, my sister, and my family, and I’m the one who is going to have to explain to my parents that you thought it was a funny joke to propose to me in front of half of the school. I’m the one who’s going to have to convince them that I wasn’t involved in this charade, that I haven’t been plotting behind their backs to ruin the plans my parents have been making with your dad,” I say, my voice getting louder and stronger as indignant anger sets in. “This is all fun and games to you, but I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with my sister and parents’ anger and all so you don’t have to be a cog in a political marriage, like I’m sure your dad was and probably decades of Winslows have been before him. So yeah, that’s all I’ve got to say. Now, are we done? Because my shitty day will only get shittier if I’m late for class.”
All three boys’ eyes are wide, like they hadn’t expected me to call them out on the shitstorm they just brought down on me. But what’s the point of pretending that this joke is nothing but a bit of fun? It might be for them, but not for me. The entire school will know I exist by now, and once people realize there are two of us, they’ll notice my absence.
Forcing every single vestige of my bravery to the surface, I step out from behind the couch and cross the room until I’m standing in front of Gulliver. “Can I have my key, please?”
I try not to let the shock show on my face when he drops the key into my outstretched hand. Stepping carefully past him, I unlock the door and push it open, ignoring the intrigued look on the face of the boy who’s standing guard just across the hallway. Looking around me cautiously, I wait until the boys file out of the small room, then I close the door and lock it, sliding the key back into my pocket before I turn and walk away.
