Malice by Amity Hope Page B

she gave Daphne the evil eye, “thank goodness.”
    Daphne smiled at her. “He was probably waiting for you to say something.”
    Despite my own disastrous attempt at admitting my feelings to Tristan, I wanted to be supportive of Finola. Even if it meant putting my personal opinions aside. “You should’ve seen him grin when he saw your name on that napkin.”
    Her face contorted into a look of hopeful disbelief. “Really?”
    I nodded. “Really.”
    “Absolutely,” Daphne tacked on. “As for you,” she said as she directed her attention to me, “Tristan will come around. Is there any chance you misunderstood?”
    I shook my head and a contemptuous laugh burst out. There was no way I misunderstood. But I really didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to take that trip down memory lane. The journey had been bad enough the first time around. I would be stupid to want to revisit it.
    “Absolutely positive,” I said.
    She popped her lip out in a sympathetic pout. Then her gaze wandered out to the parking lot. “I can’t believe I’m going to ask this,” she said as her eyes scanned the crowd, “but which hussy did Levi leave with tonight?”
    Finola and I shared a glance.
    “Bree,” I said.
    Daphne nodded solemnly. “That makes sense.”
    “What does?” I asked.
    “She’s eighteen,” Daphne said. “The night he gave me a ride into town, one of the first things he asked me was how old I was. But then he also asked if many of the seniors in our class were eighteen. I told him a lot weren’t, not this early in the year. I mentioned that Bree was, and Jude, Dane, you,” she said as she nodded her head toward Finola, “and a few others.”
    “I saw him talking with Jude last night,” Finola said. “When I got here, he was talking with him. Then he walked away from him to talk to me.”
    Daphne frowned. “I didn’t see him here last night.”
    Poor Finola’s cheeks blazed again. She reached for her cup, averted her gaze to something across the room, and took a long sip.
    Daphne tugged a lock of Finola’s hair to get her attention. “Did he leave when he saw me coming?” When Finola didn’t answer, she continued on. “Because I could’ve sworn when he saw me today, he nudged Bree into his car. Then he acted like he hadn’t seen me at all.” Now Daphne’s cheeks were burning. She, however, wasn’t embarrassed. She was furious. “Not that I care. But did he?”
    Finola nodded meekly.
    “That rat bastard,” Daphne muttered to no one in particular.
    I was sure it was hard for her, being shunned like that. I was sure it hadn’t ever happened before. Her fury was already fading. Now, she just looked perplexed.
    “Maybe it’s because you and I are both only seventeen,” I suggested. “He’s never really talked to me much either. But you know, if he’s interviewing people, maybe he’s not supposed to interview minors without consent. Or…something.” It was a pretty lame excuse. But it was all I had.
    Daphne let out a haughty little huff. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Levi Devane is officially off my radar.”
    Last night I had thought Tristan was maybe out of line for saying bad things about Levi. I hated to admit that maybe he was right. It was rare that someone managed to rub Finola the wrong way. But Levi apparently had done just that.
    When Daphne insisted on a subject change, I didn’t argue.
     
    ~*~*~
     
    The moss beneath my feet absorbed the sound of my footsteps, even under my heavy boots. At one time, the trail through the woods had been well worn. Tristan and I had passed over it hundreds, maybe even thousands of times over the years.
    The smell of damp earth surrounded me. I pushed my way past obtrusive boughs that had worked their way across the path. Needles scratched at me but the scent of pine was familiar and comforting.
    At the end of the trail was a stream. This time of year, the water level was low. I could still hear the churning and gurgling as I