Uninvited (Uninvited, #1)(3)



I’m looking forward to New York. I’ve only seen snow once, ten years ago. It melted almost immediately, just sticking to the rooftops for the day. My brother and I scraped what we could off the lawn into snowballs and stuck them in the freezer, hoping to save them. They resembled dingy, brownish balls of ice with twigs and dried leaves sticking out of them. Mom threw them away before we ever got a chance to recover them from the freezer.

My gaze skims the brown-green hills etched against a sky so blue it hurts your eyes. The headmaster’s white-pillared mansion looks down on us from the top of the hill as we pass the refectory where we eat. A perfectly manicured expanse of green stretches to our left. In the distance, flags slap on the wind, mingling with the soft drone of a golf cart driven by the head of campus security as he rolls toward the practice fields. Everyone calls him “Snappy” because he likes to snap his fingers to get your attention. My brother coined the nickname years ago as a freshman. Snappy busted Mitchell on more than one occasion.

We descend the hill toward the parking lot. Seniors get the best spots. It’s one of our privileges at Everton, in addition to having our very own senior lounge replete with couches, TV, and soda and snack machines. Zac’s parked in the front row beneath a crape myrtle tree in full bloom. Tiny white blossoms decorate the hood of his car.

“Someone needs to cut that thing down.”

“It’s pretty.”

He squeezes my hand. “Not as pretty as you.”

I roll my eyes, but still smile. He unlocks his BMW and walks me around to the passenger side. I love that he still does this. Even six months into our relationship, he makes me feel special. Like every day is a first date.

Before I can get in the car, he stops me. Placing his hands on either side of the car, he traps me between the vehicle and his body. My heart speeds up. I smile up at him, thinking he’s going to kiss me again. But he doesn’t. His vivid green eyes drill into me with unusual intensity.

“Davy. You know what you do to me, how you make me feel. . . .”

I touch his chest, flattening my palms against him. “You make me happy, too.”

“Good. Because that’s all I ever want, Davy. To make you happy.”

“You do,” I assure him.

He nods but he still doesn’t move. He stares at me like he’s memorizing me.

I angle my head, wondering at his odd seriousness. It’s not like he goes around declaring himself all the time. “Zac?”

“I love you,” he murmurs, the words falling slowly.

Everything inside me tightens. He’s never said those words before.

My heart clenches and the ache there is so sweet. It’s a perfect kind of agony. I suck in a sharp breath and then release it in a rush. Words are impossible. They stick inside my closed throat.

His gaze darts around and he almost looks nervous. “I didn’t know I was going to say that here. Right now. In the parking lot. I mean . . . I’ve known for weeks that I love you. You’re all I think about—” He grins down at me. “I’m babbling.”

“I noticed that.”

He kisses me. We’ve shared some amazing kisses before but nothing like this. Zac loves me. He. Loves. Me.

He breaks for air and mutters against my lips, “God, I’ve been trying to get up the courage to tell you that. Sorry it wasn’t someplace more special.”

I swat him on the shoulder. “Why would you be afraid to tell me that?” Probably the same reason I’ve been afraid to say the words, too.

His expression sobers and his arms tighten around me. “I don’t know if I can handle you not loving me back.”

I touch his face. Place my fingertips against his jaw. It’s a little bristly. My fingers move over his skin, reveling in the texture. “Well, that’s not possible. I think I loved you before you ever even asked me out.”

Relief washes over his face. He kisses me once more, sweet and lingering before we finally move and get inside the car.

It’s a short drive to my house. I sit there in a daze, absorbing the sensation of his hand holding mine between us, and everything it means. Me. Zac. Forever. That’s what it feels like. I know I’m just seventeen, but why not? Why not forever?

We’re at my house in ten minutes. In this instance, I wish I didn’t live so close to campus. Wish we could stay in our little world for a few hours more.

Two extra cars sit in the circular driveway. I don’t know who they belong to, but my gaze drifts to Dad’s Range Rover. Home in the middle of the week in broad daylight. That never happens.

Zac gets out with me. He quickly reclaims my hand. We’ve barely reached the wide rock steps leading to the double front doors when one of them swings opens.

Mom steps out and I stop.

She looks pale, her normally smooth complexion drawn tight. Mom’s key to looking young is to never get in the sun. As in—never. She only swims in our pool at night. But right now, even those efforts seem lost.

“Davy,” she says my name on a breath, staring at me in an intense, devouring way that makes me want to touch my face and check that I haven’t broken out in a rash suddenly.

Her gaze skitters to Zac. She nods at him. “Thanks for dropping her off.” The translation is clear: leave. My parents adore Zac. If I didn’t already know something is wrong, then I do now.

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