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“Here where?” Ethan asks, irritation clear in his voice.

I don’t lift my head, don’t dare meet his eyes, but I can picture him perfectly—one eyebrow raised, unimpressed, already rejecting the situation.

“Here. In your room,” Sierra says, her voice sweet, entirely too sweet.

And for a split second, I seriously consider walking over and covering her mouth with my hand.

I don’t.

I don’t move at all.

I just stand there, trying to breathe, trying not to fall apart in front of everyone.

“Long story short,” Nick cuts in, far too cheerful for my liking, “we drew lots. She got the ‘Shared room’ one, then she pulled your name.”

“You’re joking, right?” Ethan says, his tone filled with disbelief.

“Good night, Ethan,” Sierra tells him, and from the corner of my eye I catch the way she rises on her tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

Nick’s hand is on her waist instantly, pulling her back against him, firm, possessive—because of course he does. That’s just who he is. Not just protective—possessive, in every sense of the word.

Sierra only laughs, completely unfazed, lacing her fingers with his as she lets him pull her away, already heading toward their room.

“Love you, Thalia,” she calls over her shoulder before disappearing inside and closing the door behind them.

Great.

Perfect.

“It’s late, we’re heading in too,” Ryan says, gathering the others, steering them back toward their floor.

One by one, they leave.

Even Sara and John are already turning, moving past me.

“This is a joke,” Ethan says again, stopping them just before they go.

“No,” Sara answers, her tone firmer, no trace of amusement left. “Now take the girl’s luggage and put it inside the room,” she adds, clearly done with the discussion.

“Good night,” John says, wrapping an arm around her waist as they start down the stairs.

FIFTY-TWO

Ethan

The moment we’re left alone, Thalia pulls away from the wall that seemed to hold her upright—morally, physically, and moves toward her bag.

I stay exactly where I am, watching her.

I can’t tell if this is some kind of joke, but my parents don’t know about mine and Thalia’s situation, so I don’t see how they could be involved in something like this. And Thalia would never agree to a joke of this kind.

It’s obvious she would rather be anywhere but here right now.

She’s too embarrassed to look at me, her gaze fixed stubbornly on the floor, shoulders drawn in as if making herself smaller might somehow make this situation less of a disaster.

But that doesn’t stop her, because she has no choice. What else can she do? Make a scene and beg some other guy in this house to let her sleep in his room? What would she even tell my parents?

I continue to watch her without saying a word, standing in the doorway like a barrier she has to pass.