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Is Lola’s objective the same as mine? Is she going to ask about my father? Maybe her question is completely different.
God, this is brain-bending. I can’t be sneaky in five different ways at once.
Should I start asking about her family? Is that too obvious?
What if she lies? Will I be able to tell?
“Don’t be nervous, Cat,” Lola says, giving me a smile that shows all her gleaming white teeth. “We’re just having a friendly conversation.”
“Right,” I murmur. “It should be fun.”
“You’re from Spain, aren’t you?” She says, resting a hand casually on her hip and cocking her head at me.
I’m already tensing up, thinking I shouldn’t answer any questions honestly. But Lola already knows the answer to that—and it wouldn’t be the objective on her card because it’s common knowledge.
“Yes,” I say, carefully. “I’m from Barcelona. And you’re from Biloxi.”
“That’s right,” Lola says, lightly.
I suppose we both have a baseline for honest answers now.
“Any siblings?” I ask her, hoping to ease around to the topic of parents.
“Just me,” Lola says, still smiling.
Now that one’s a little trickier. Lola certainly has the pampered look and confidence of an only child, but she’s not in the Heirs division. So either her father isn’t a boss, which would be strange considering her standing amongst the rest of the Dixie Mafia, or he has a different successor in mind—an uncle or older sibling of Lola.
Fuck, I don’t know which it is. I don’t think I’m very good at this.
“I know you have a sister,” Lola says, softly. “Zoe . . . she’s gorgeous, isn’t she? It’s hard to be the ugly sister.”
Carter Ross snickers from the front row of desks.
I can feel the dozens of eyes watching us, none more than Professor Penmark, who feeds off my discomfort and Lola’s malice like a psychic vampire.
The gloves are coming off—Lola took that shot at me to stoke my emotions. She wants me upset and incautious.
“I always thought Zoe was the prettiest girl at our school,” I reply, calmly.
It’s a subtler jab than Lola’s, and more effective. I’m used to being second to Zoe. Lola doesn’t want to be second to anyone. I see the slight narrowing of her eyes—she didn’t like that at all.
“Zoe ran off with Miles Griffin, didn’t she?” Lola persists. “That’s quite the upgrade from Rocco.”
My hands twitch involuntarily. I really don’t want Lola to pursue that line of questioning. Her card can’t possibly have something on it about Rocco Prince, can it?
Lola sees me flinch. She pounces like a cat on a mouse. “You aren’t jealous, are you? Zoe’s living the dream in L.A., and you don’t even have a boyfriend yet?”
There it is.
I think I know her objective.
“I’ve had plenty of boyfriends,” I lie.
Lola giggles, not believing me for a second.
“Plenty of boyfriends?” She scoffs. “Come on Cat, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
I’m going to have to switch tactics, because if Lola’s objective is to suss out my sexual history, she’s going to figure out that I’m a virgin in two seconds flat.
