CHAPTER 105
WINTER
An hour later, Claire’s standing in my room looking like she just stepped off the cover of a magazine in my form-fitting black playsuit, her hair styled perfectly, and her confidence oozing with every move. Meanwhile, I’m in a black pair of ripped jeans, white trainers, and my favorite t-shirt—the one that says *‘with pleasure’* in a playful bubble font across the front. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s comfortable, and right now, comfort is what I need.
Claire has outdone herself with my makeup, though. She managed to keep it simple but still made my features pop, a hint of smoky eyeshadow, a little gloss on my lips, and soft curls cascading down my shoulders. I glance at myself in the mirror and have to admit, I don’t look half bad.
“Carl is gonna blow his load when he sees you,” Claire says with a smirk, clearly pleased with her handiwork.
“Claire, please don’t,” I mutter, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck.
“What? I’m just being honest. You’re absolutely rocking that look, Winter. Heads are gonna turn tonight, whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t *want* to turn heads. I just want to blend in.”
“I know you do, but trust me—” she steps closer, looking at me through the mirror, her voice softer now—“you’ll never blend into a crowd, no matter what you wear. You’re just... different.”
A sigh escapes my lips as I meet her gaze. I don’t argue, knowing she’s probably right, but I wish, for just one night, I could disappear into the background.
.......
PRESENT
The bass from the speakers reverberates through the room, mixing with the dull roar of chatter and laughter.
The room is heavy with the mingling scents of alcohol, weed, and sweat, creating a haze that clings to everything. Despite the chaos around me, my attention keeps drifting back to Zion.
He’s sitting with his crew, the Royals, but instead of the usual cocky grin or smirk, he’s brooding, his expression clouded with something close to anger.
Then again, anger seems to be his default state. His eyes, dark and intense, seem to be hiding something, making him even harder to read than usual. I catch him stealing glances in my direction more than once, but each time, he looks away quickly, his jaw clenched as if holding something back.
"My brother and his crew are all about partying hard every night during the holidays—getting high, causing trouble, you name it," Claire says, taking a swig of her beer.
"But now that college is back in session, hopefully, they'll have to tone it down a bit."
Claire nudges me, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Hey, are you even listening?"
"Uh, yeah, I’m listening," I say, though I know I’m not very convincing.
“I’m starting to second-guess whether coming here was a good idea.”
Claire gives me a concerned look.
“Trust me, coming here was the right choice. You need to show these people that their petty taunts and bullying don’t faze you. Be grateful I dragged you out of the house instead of letting you wallow alone.”
I try to smile, but it’s more of a grimace.
“Yeah, a badass. Right now, I just want to go home and hide under my covers. The way the girls looked at me when we first arrived—like I was some sort of pariah—it was brutal.”
"Well, of course, they’re going to glare," Claire says, rolling her eyes.
"I mean, look at you—you're stunning, an absolute knockout. They're just jealous." She nudges me playfully and whispers,
"Honestly, I’m a little jealous too. Your skin is flawless, like porcelain."
But then her smile fades as her eyes narrow at something over my shoulder. I turn to see what she’s looking at and spot Clark staring in our direction, his gaze unsettling.
Claire scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Can you believe Clark ordered me not to come tonight as if he had any say in what I did?
But that’s exactly why we needed to be here—to show everyone that we’re a united front. They mess with you, they mess with me. And considering I’m the twin sister of one of the Royals, they’ll think twice before trying to torment you again.”
Her words are meant to be comforting, and there’s a fierce protectiveness in her tone that makes me feel a little safer.
“I’m just not used to this... attention. It’s overwhelming.”
Claire shrugs, offering a reassuring smile. “You’ll get used to it. Besides, with Harry watching your back, no one’s going to mess with you. Not even Zion would dare try anything with him around. Just be glad he’s on our side.”
Her words should have been comforting, but they only leave me more confused. My eyes drift toward Harry, who’s sitting—of all places—right next to Zion. He looks out of place among them, yet there he is, leaning in like he’s part of whatever quiet conversation they’re having.
A knot tightens in my chest.
“I don’t get him,” I murmur, more to myself than Claire. “He was so sweet earlier—chasing off those girls and guys who tried messing with me. But now? Now he’s...with them. And Zion...”
I trail off, biting my lip as I remember how I watched Zion on the dance floor earlier, moving with that confident swagger that draws everyone’s attention. Cindy had been all over him, her hands in his hair, her body pressed against him, and for some reason, it bothered me more than it should.
They always seem to be together, and the thought nags at me.
Are they a couple now?
Why does the idea of them being together make me feel so... uneasy?
Claire notices my frown and follows my gaze. She lets out a soft chuckle, shaking her head.
“Oh, right,” Claire says, suddenly remembering something. “I forgot to mention—Harry and Zion are cousins. Practically brothers, really.”
I blink at her, stunned. “Cousins?”
The word feels foreign on my tongue, and I whip my head around to glance back at Harry and Zion. They’re still sitting together, but this time, Zion’s eyes are locked directly on me.
“Oh God,” I mutter, turning back to Claire, my voice rising in panic. “Don’t tell me this is some twisted plan of Zion’s—to have Harry cozy up to me just so he can stab me in the back later.”
Claire grabs my arm, shaking her head firmly. “No, no. Harry’s nothing like Zion,” she says, her voice resolute. “Sure, he’s a playboy and a bit moody, but he’s got a good heart. He doesn’t stand for the kind of crap Zion and his crew pull.”
I glance at her skeptically, and she presses on.
“Harry hates seeing girls get bullied—it’s why he’s sticking around. He’s here to keep an eye on things, especially when it comes to Zion. Trust me, if Zion tries anything, Harry won’t let it slide. And Zion knows better than to mess with him.”
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