I spin around on my small leather stool in front of my white vanity. I come to a sudden stop to look at myself in the mirror and lean it to inspect the red clay mask drying on my fair skin.

"Are you sure this actually does anything?" I ask Elizabeth skeptically as my fingers tap tentatively against the solidifying clay. I've never been a big facemask person as the idea of slapping gunk onto my face doesn't sound appeal me much, but as usual Elizabeth dragged me into her latest new find.

She's been going through a major skincare obsession lately and forces me to play along with every new product she finds claiming it will "change my life".

My life has yet to be changed, but I can't deny my skin does have a certain glow from all the products she's been throwing my way.

I rotate in the chair to see her lying on my dusty rose duvet cover and her long black hair splayed out like a wild crown above her head. She turns her head to look at me and if her face could move more I know she would be glaring at me.

"Yes James," she groans mostly annoyed by my constant cynicism. "It's detoxing our skin and helping to minimize the appearance of our pores," she clarifies as if it's completely self-explanatory.

"You don't even have pores," I tell her with pursed lips. Elizabeth has the most beautiful dark skin that is always blemish free and radiant and smooth as butter. If I didn't love her so much I'd find it annoying.

"Exactly!" she exclaims as her hands drop loudly against my bed. "That's because of the masks," she tells me pointedly.

I roll my eyes. "Don't get anything on my comforter," I grumble as I lift my legs to place my heels on the edge of my brass footboard.

"I'm an expert. Of course I won't," she says smugly as she sits up and turns to face me. "Plus I would never want to ruin your perfect room," she adds with a touch of mockery and a roll of her golden brown eyes.

My hands fall into my lap. "It's not perfect," I argue though as my eyes dart around my room I even know not one picture or piece of clothing is out of place.

"You make your bed every single day," she tells me as if I don't already know.

"That's just a habit," I shrug casually, but it's the truth. I may have grown up with a maid, but I was raised to keep a tidy room. I learned quickly cleanliness kept my father from yelling at me as often even though Aiden's room was always a pigsty and he never got in trouble.

"You dust weekly. Your clothes are organized by style and length," she lists lifting her long manicured nails. "And I swear your color coded dresser would make Marie Kondo orgasm," she finishes making me laugh at her vulgar comment.

I let out a sigh as I pull the scrunchie from my dark hair letting it fall over one shoulder but making sure my cloth headband is stopping any hair from falling into my face. Elizabeth is the complete opposite of me in every single way. She's loud and in your face and hilarious and everyone's friend. She's sunshine and optimism and I'm cloudy skies and realism.

Her cousin Annabelle and I instantly connected when we met freshman year as roommates, and when she introduced me to Elizabeth I was worried she would brush me to the side like most girls have in my past when meeting me. I come off a bit harsh and overly focused when it comes to my life, but the moment I met Elizabeth she helped to pull me from it and expand my horizons.

She pushes me from my comfort zone and reminds me at times that there's more to life than studying. I so easily get caught up in my one singular goal I can forget to have fun and to embrace the part of college I am so quick to shove and lock away.

"Okay so I'm a bit of a clean freak," I admit with a lift of my hand. "I like being neat and organized," I tell her a bit defensively.

Her mask cracks a touch as she smiles brightly. "And that's why I love you," she sings swinging her legs around so she's on her stomach and leaning on her elbows in front of me.

Acceptance swells in my chest. "Yeah, yeah," I murmur acting like it's nothing when her words mean more to me than she could even know.

Elizabeth looks around the room cautiously before she speaks as if she's worried someone else might be around to overhear her. I let out a small chuckle at her constant dramatics. "So how's tutoring going with you know who?" she asks in a loud whisper.

I press my lips together to suppress another laugh at her antics. "You can say his name Liz," I tell her as the mask on my face begins to dry and tighten.

She shakes her head firmly. "Ehh I'd rather not be cursed," she expresses.

"He's not Voldemort," I voice dryly.

Elizabeth leans forward. "You can't be 100% positive about that," she say to me with a quirk of her eyebrows.

I roll my eyes once again and let out a pent up sigh at the thought of Preston Rothwell. "I guess okay," I tell her honestly as the thoughts of him and our small time together bombard me. We've only seen each other two other times since our first session and I hate to admit it but it's actually helped. Concepts and principles that never clicked are finally falling into place and I got a B on my last oral presentation, which is far better than the C- I got on the one before that.

"Really?" she asks unconvinced and I if I were her I would be doubtful as well at my words. The Heirs don't help without getting something in return and every time I see him I sit on edge waiting for the other ball to drop.

"Yeah," I murmur. "It's weird cause it's him, but he's oddly good at teaching," I confess though the words feel weird on my tongue. Praising Preston for anything feels deeply wrong and twisted.

But he's patient, more so than I thought someone who has the world at his fingertips could be. He takes his time when explaining complex theories to me and pulls real world cases and examples to go over with me in depth so we can have clear cut conversations that align perfectly with my class. I hate to say anything good about a man like him, but he is intelligent and I can see how he easily aced this class last year. He's a natural and someone who doesn't have to work as hard for what I stay up every single night working towards. It somehow pisses me off and impresses me all at once.

But mostly pisses me off.

"Have you got any tea on that night?" Elizabeth asks as she leans on one elbow and begins to twirl a strand of her wavy hair with her finger.

"No, I haven't got any tea?" I tell her emphasizing the silly word she seems to constantly use.

She continues to twirl away. "Well have you even asked?" she pushes. No one gets close to The Heirs. They keep to themselves and keep everyone else at arms length. Besides my brother of course. But besides the wild theories and rumors that surround them like a dark cloud no one, besides them, knows what went down that night. It's one large wild whirlwind of a secret and everyone on this campus is dying for just a taste of the truth.

All we know is someone died, and not just anyone. A senator's son. And somehow this town has never been the same. Darkness always lurked, but it was hidden in the shadows never exposing itself to the light of day. But after that night it's as if the darkness was released and drenched this town black and the debauchery that was once carefully hidden became much more public.

"No," I breathe letting my eyes fall to my lap.

"Why not?" she questions with fervor. "This is the perfect time to snoop. Their case is so beyond sealed no one has access to it and I just want to know. I mean come on you have to be curious," she says with a smirk painting her lips.

My mind goes back to that night seven years ago. That night that seemed like any other fall night. The only difference was the heat. It was warmer than usual for an October night. I remember the way Preston came over to talk to me. I remember the flush that coated my cheeks at his presence and the sticky air. Even now I refuse to acknowledge the small crush I use to have on him all those years ago. I remember the way his friends pulled him away and the uncontrollable anger that was clear as day on his friend Nathaniel's face.

And that was all there was to the night. Until the sirens. They pierced the still humid midnight air and startled me from a dead sleep. I remember the flames that licked the pitch-black sky streets over and I remember my brother running down the stairs and disappearing for hours.

I don't like to think much of that night. It was absolute chaos and as the night unraveled into day all four boys involved were arrested, and a boy was declared dead. The months that followed were a media circus as the entire country watched as three boys got off on murder and one boy went down.

And to this day no one knows what actually happened that night. Was it an accident? Was it on purpose? Were they actually clean or did they let one of their own take the fall to save their own asses? It haunts this town day and night and we whisper about it daily. But the town refuses to confront those boys who most likely bought their way out of a guilty verdict.

I wet my dry lips and shake away the faded memories of that night. "I mean of course I am, but...." My words die off because I've never said this aloud I suddenly realize.

Every single piece of me that craves the truth wants to dig into Preston when I sit only mere inches away from him. But at the same time I almost don't want to know. I don't want to know what my brother was or still is currently involved in with those men. Aiden and I may not be as close as we use to be and I know there are still so many secrets that sit between us, but at the end of the day he is my blood and I never want to believe he would have a hand in anyone's death.

"But what?" Elizabeth asks obviously confused as to why my words halted.

I clear my throat and shove away the thoughts that weigh heavily on my chest. "Nothing," I brush off. "I'll see what I can get out of him," I say just to appease her for the time being.

She lets out an eager squeal as she raises to her knees and bounces on my bed with enthusiasm at the mere idea of me being able to get any information about that night. But I also know Preston and any of his friends would die before spilling too much.

The alarm on her phone rings piercing the air and we rise to go to my bathroom to wash our faces. Annabelle and I share a bathroom and it's attached to both of our rooms so there are two sinks on the large vanity. Both Elizabeth and I quickly rinse the dried and cracking clay off of our faces and pat them dry with thick cotton towels.

My fingers graze my cheek and my eyes widen in surprise at the softness of my skin. "Okay my face does feel nice," I acknowledge to my friend.

Elizabeth does a little victory dance next to me, and I laugh at her cheesy over the top dance moves. "That's what I thought," she says proudly as she points at me. "Maybe you'll think twice before judging my miracle mask next time."

I toss my hand towel into the small hamper in the corner and we both walk through my room into the living room. "When's Anna getting back?" I ask her cousin as I settle into the couch.

Elizabeth scrolls through her phone as she makes her way to the kitchen. "She just texted saying she's leaving class now," she informs me as she pulls some crackers from the pantry to snack on.

"Great," I beam eagerly as I lean back into the cushions. "Want to pick a movie?" I ask as she continues to munch away at my food.

Every Thursday night we stay in and watch a movie from our ever-growing list of films. We watch movies from current recent releases to movies from our childhoods and cult classics that maybe someone hasn't seen.

Elizabeth mulls over my question for a moment as she sets the snack down and rounds the corner from the kitchen. "How about—"

I instantly cut her off knowing where she's about to go with this. "And nothing scary this time," I tell her knowingly.

Her shoulders slump. "Why not?" she questions placing her hands on her hips.

I toss her an unconvinced look. "Cause last time you picked the most fucked up movie," I tell her as if it isn't obvious.

Elizabeth steps forward. "That was a masterpiece," she tells me adamantly.

I scoff. "They were naked and everyone's heads were being taken off," I say I shudder in disgust at the memories.

She glares at me. "Fine," she concedes turning on her heel to pull out two bags of popcorn from the cabinet. One kettle and one butter lovers. Our usual.

The sound of popcorn popping fills the air as the addictive smell of the perfect movie snack wafts over.

I begin to scroll through the TV trying to figure out what movie we should watch.

"We need to go shopping tomorrow before the weekend," Elizabeth tells me as she pulls out two large bowls for our snack.

I pause my search and turn my attention to my friend. "Why?" I ask as my eyebrows pull together.

She places her elbows on the counter and leans forward and a grin pulls across her face. "Everett Kingston is throwing a huge party in the city Saturday night at his pent house and I think he also got a table at 1 Oak," she tells me wiggling her dark brows in excitement. Elizabeth loves parties, especially ones thrown by Everett. He is the party king in this town and knows how to throw the raunchiest wildest parties in the state.

My nose scrunches at the idea. The last time I went to one of his parties some random girl ended up throwing up on my feet. I cringe at the memories of the chucky vomit. "I don't want to go to a club," I tell her with a whine as my head falls back against the couch.

"Why not?" she asks. "The world's best pizza is next door," she tells me as if that would reel me in to another insane Heir party.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I think over the idea of going out on Saturday. The idea alone leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. "I have to study a ton this weekend anyways," I tell her and it isn't a lie I do need to study. I am far from out of the woods when it comes to my classes this year.

Elizabeth opens each bag of popcorn and pours it into the bowls on the counter. "Oh come on!" she exclaims. "At least come to Everett's place and if you want to ditch after then that fine," she pushes not letting me back out so easily.

I let out a loud sigh. "I'll think about it," I compromise on my behalf of my best friend. But I already know I don't want to go to this party. It sounds like a terrible idea that will only end with me covered in someone else's bad decisions.

I can see she already knows I'm on edge about the idea of going to a party this weekend so she switches her tactics. "At least come shopping with me tomorrow?" she inquires as she comes to sit down next to me with a bowl of delicious popcorn in each hand.

"Fine," I smile as I grab onto a bowl and toss some salty popcorn into my mouth.

She grabs the remote from beside me and begins to scroll through Netflix. "Love you," she cheers happily.

A chuckle falls from my lips. "Yeah, yeah," I respond.

The front door clicks open and Annabelle strides in quickly pulling her headphones from her ears and tossing her backpack to the floor. She runs over and jumps onto the couch between both her cousin and me. Her short brown hair is windswept and her cheeks pink from the night air.

"How was class Anna?" I ask passing her the movie snack.

She shrugs indifferently before grabbing the blanket folded on the back of the couch and pulling it over her. "Annoying, long, boring," she lists before stuffing a handful of popcorn into her face. "Ready for the weekend," she finishes with a deep sigh.

Elizabeth instantly lights up at her cousin's words. "You want to do something fun this weekend?"

I quickly step in. "Don't fall for it," I tell Annabelle warily. "She wants to go to an Heir party," I say with a touch of disgust touching my words.

"Really Liz," Annabelle groans sinking into the couch.

"Can you guys stop hating on having fun?" she says setting down her bowl on the coffee table with a huff.

"I'm not hating on fun. I'm hating on Everett," I clarify promptly.

"We only have two years left in college and we need to live it up a lot more than we are right now," Elizabeth says sweeping her hand around our living room.

"Hey!" I shout. "Don't shit on movie night," I say sternly though I can't help the laugh that bubbles through because of course I know how lame we come across to most of our peers. But lame is safer than attending an Heir party in my opinion.

She rolls her eyes playfully. "I would never shit on movie night," she tells me lifting her hands. "That would be sacrilegious."

"Always so dramatic," Annabelle shakes her head at her cousin.

"It's not dramatic if it's the truth," she challenges.

"Okay," Annabelle relents out of nowhere.

"Okay what?" I question not sure what she is getting at.

"Okay I will go to the party," she tells her cousin.

"Really?" Elizabeth exclaims excitedly as she wraps her arms around her sending some popcorn spilling out of the bowl Annabelle is holding.

"Yes," she replies. "I've had a bad week and maybe making some bad choices will put me in a better mood," she tries and reasons.

"Well Everett's party is sure as hell a bad decision," I agree with a sneer.

"Come on James," Elizabeth urges. "Let's have some fun."

I point at the TV. "We are having fun!" I counter.

A smirk lifts her lips as she draws her cousin into her arms. "No, Heir fun," she corrects with a wink.

"I told you I would think about it," I say facing the screen. "Lets just watch a movie," I murmur in attempts to change the subject and move on from the suddenly crowding topic of The Heirs.

My phone dings from beside me and I pick it up to see a text from Preston on the screen.

Speak of the goddamn devil.

Tomorrow night. 8

My nostrils flare at the rude and brazen text. He doesn't ask if I already have plans or even ask if I want to study with him again.

I'm busy

His reply is instant.

No you're not.

The skin around my eyes tightens as annoyance cuts through me hotly.

How do you know?

Once again his message comes swiftly.

Because you're going over civil procedure this week and I know first hand how confusing the subject can be.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I read the text once over again and uncertainty slithers through my veins at the mention of the topic we are covering in class. I want to send back some witty remark or deny him but at the same time he's right. And I hate that he's right. I am struggling with our new subject and working with Preston has helped me so far. Even my professor has commented on my quick growth. So once again I have to stop my own self from holding me back and push aside my ego and accept his help. Even if it pisses me off.

Fine. Where?

Same place.

♢

Once again I'm about ten minutes early. Preston has come to continue to reserve the same table Professor Hilbert reserved for us that first night. I hate that it provides me with a level of comfort especially when Preston is involved.

I only have once class on Friday so the rest of the day was spent shopping with Annabelle and Elizabeth. I somehow during the course of our shopping trip was fully dragged into going out tomorrow night and even with it being a day away I am already regretting the decision. I really should be studying rather than getting drunk at some pent