The secrets we bury

The Plan

We all gathered in my room just after sunset.

Emma sat beside me on the bed, casually flipping through a magazine like we weren’t planning a social ambush. Averie was curled up in my white lounger, biting her cuticles like it was a nervous tick she couldn’t quit.

“I’m not trying to destroy Melanie, guys,” I said, flipping my hair off my shoulder. “I just want to give her something real. Something she’ll never forget. Something that makes her loyal to us.”

I paused, locking eyes with both of them.

“Thornton is that opening.”

Averie looked away quickly, still nibbling at her fingers. Her silence was enough. She knew this was dangerous, but she wasn’t going to stop me.

She never did.

Emma was more enthusiastic. She always was.

“I agree,” she said, eyes lighting up. “Let’s set them up. Jason’s throwing that party next weekend, remember? His parents will be out of town. Perfect opportunity.”

I smiled. My good, obedient puppet, offering up the next perfect move like a trained queen’s guard.

“I like it,” I said.

Then I turned to Averie.

“Averie?” My tone sharpened. “I expect your input.”

She hesitated, blowing air out of her lips like a pouty child.

“I just… I don’t think it’s a good idea, guys.”

I sat up, heat rising under my skin.

Excuse me?

I was the one making sacrifices here. I was the one offering my favorite f**k toy on a silver platter to some girl who still didn’t know how to wear eyeliner. And now Averie wanted to play the hero?

No.

Absolutely not.

So I did what I did best.

I reminded her.

“Are we forgetting how you were popping pills during finals last year?” I asked casually, eyes locked. “Or that your little dealer stopped supplying you, and you cried to Thornton until he started helping out?”

Her face dropped.

Silence.

Emma looked away. She knew better than to intervene.

Averie lowered her eyes to the floor, voice suddenly soft.

“Fine. Let’s do the party thing,” she whispered. “But whatever we do, please, just don’t let Thornton get in trouble. Please, Ava.”

“I won’t,” I said with a gentle smile.

I always smiled when I lied.

The night stretched on in lazy waves.

We ordered pizza. Spread out magazines. Watched a movie we’d already seen twice.

But most of the time, we were building the plan.

Step by step.

Word by word.

A foolproof setup.

Invite Thornton. Get Melanie to wear something short. Plant the seed. Let the drinks flow. Let the sparks fly.

We were going to make her fall hard.

And if she didn’t?

We’d push her.

I knew what I was doing.

They trusted me.

And Melanie?

She had no idea she’d just stepped onto a chessboard.

The girls spent the night.

We laid around my room like lazy royalty — pizza boxes stacked on my vanity, makeup wipes scattered across the floor, Emma snoring lightly beside me while Averie scrolled through her phone in silence before finally passing out in the lounger.

Me?

I didn’t sleep.

My mind was restless, buzzing with the details of our plan, and the intoxicating thrill of playing God with other people’s lives.

But mostly, I was thinking about him.

Ethan.

We’d been texting all night. Every buzz of my phone sent a jolt through me. There was something about him, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on yet.

He wasn’t just hot. He wasn’t just older.

There was a quiet confidence to him, a stillness behind the flirtation. Like he was hiding just as many secrets as I was.

Ethan Conway.

Originally from New Jersey, grew up middle class, worked for everything he had. He’d gotten a scholarship to CSU to study teaching. He didn’t come from money like me — not even close — but somehow, he’d still found his way into the rich boy circle when he became friends with my dear old Thornton Grayson.

They met at orientation. Became inseparable. And now here I was, tangled in their web, screwing one and falling for the other.

I should have felt guilty.

But I didn’t.

Ethan’s texts were fire — all the things he wanted to do to me, where he wanted to take me, what he wanted to experience with me.

I bit my lip reading them.

Gosh, was I wrong to want every inch of him?

Maybe.

But I didn’t care.

I couldn’t wait.