Playing Perfect

13. Fête

She sighed, turning back to her reflection. "I know. I was on my way."

"Don't tell me you're still thinking about Heather."

"It's not every day you discover that your friend of four years is actually your bully."

"Oh, come on," he narrowed his silvery eyes. "She was clearly a bitch."

"Don't talk about her like that, Cauley."

"What, you're defending her now, Travers?" he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Get over it. She was the one behind it all. She framed me. You're not friends."

"I—" She pursed her lips. "Maybe—"

"Don't make excuses now," he said.

"But why would she—"

"Because you're a Travers," Finn interrupted. He looked at her through the reflection in the mirror. "If she drags you down, she's one step higher on the social ladder. That's how our world works."

Alice sighed, putting her hairbrush down and lowering her eyes. "She wasn't like that."

"Really?" he quirked a brow at her. "She never asked to be invited to a Travers party? She never asked you to introduce her to any heirs to businesses?"

Alice was silent. Finn smirked arrogantly, raising his brows matter-of-factly.

"I told you your friends were snakes," he pointed out.

"Shut up," Alice snapped, turning to glare at him. She felt her anger bubble in her chest. "That's all you care about, isn't it? Being right. You're disgusting. You may not have been behind it all, but you're not any good either. You're worse than Heather."

Finn stormed forward, his brows furrowed in a sneer. He dropped a hand onto the dresser behind her, cornering her.

"Am I, now? I'm worse than the girl who humiliated you in front of the entire school? The girl who tormented you for weeks? The girl—"

"Shut UP Cauley!"

"—who destroyed your books and reduced you to your knees, scraping trash off the floor—"

"Stop it!"

"—plucking rotten apples from your skirt and dreading every time your phone buzzed in the slightest—"

"I get it."

"Do you now?" he scowled. "Because I don't think you do."

"Yes! I do!" she spat. "So, stop!"

She hadn't realised how close he'd moved. His breath fanned over her face, and she knew if she moved an inch forward, they'd be kissing. Again.

She could smell the mint on his breath, and she felt a shudder run down her spine.

But her eyes were filled with hatred, his own ones dark and narrowed at her. His gaze flickered to her mouth and his lips twitched with what she assumed to be disgust.

"Heather is not your friend," he said lowly. His eyes roamed over her face before pausing at her eyes. "She shouldn't keep you from your own damn party."

"I just—" Alice swallowed thickly and tried to avert her eyes, but found her gaze glued to his. "I don't want to ruin our..."

She trailed off and Finn searched her eyes. He pursed his lips, then stepped back. Instantly, his warmth vanished, and the room felt big again. Alice released a breath that had caught in her throat, her tense shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Get up," Finn ordered.

Alice blinked. "Why?"

"We're going."