Forgotten (Falls Elite #1)

34

Lex

The late afternoon sun streamed through the classroom windows, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. I sat alone, one foot propped up on the chair in front of me, scrolling through Instagram. My timeline was filled with photos of people I barely knew, smiling and living their curated lives.

I paused when a picture of Tate and his friends appeared on my feed. They were on a luxury yacht, floating somewhere in the middle of an impossibly blue ocean. The group looked carefree, laughing as one of them—Seven, I think—danced wildly on a table. My gaze zeroed in on Tate.

He stood in the background, arms crossed, with that signature grin of his. His hair was wind-tousled, and even through the screen, he looked like he belonged in a magazine ad. I scowled and swiped past the photo, my thumb pressing harder than necessary against the screen.

Before I could lose myself in more mindless scrolling, the door creaked open. I jumped, almost dropping my phone, as Tate Bell himself sauntered in.

Great. Just great.

I looked up at him, expecting some smug remark, but his expression caught me off guard. His brows were drawn together in a rare frown, and his eyes were closed like he was trying to tune out the world.

I cleared my throat loudly.

He flinched, his eyes snapping open as he turned toward me, startled. The surprise faded quickly, replaced by that familiar cocky smirk.

"Well, if it isn't Lexi Carson," he drawled, his voice laced with that infuriating blend of mockery and charm.

I frowned, confused by his tone. "What do you want, Tate?"

He sighed dramatically, crossing the room to sit on the desk next to me. His cologne wafted over, warm and spicy, and I hated how noticeable it was.

"Funny you should ask, because I do have something to tell you," he said, leaning back like he owned the place.

I put my phone away, giving him my full attention. "Okay, go on."

"The senior trip is coming up," he started.

I nodded, though the thought of the trip didn't exactly thrill me. The senior trip was a long-standing tradition: a weekend of parties, chaos, and bad decisions at a series of rented cabins in the woods. Not really my scene.

"And?" I prompted, narrowing my eyes.

"I want you to come with me and my friends," he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I blinked at him, stunned into silence. Of all the things I thought he'd say, this wasn't on the list.

"Why would I do that?" I asked finally, folding my arms across my chest.

He tilted his head, studying me with that infuriating calmness he always seemed to carry. "It's going to look weird if you're not there. And Cleo's going to be there too. If you're not around pretending to be my girlfriend, she won't leave me alone all weekend."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the logic of his words sank in before I could form a rebuttal. He wasn't wrong. If I didn't go, people—Cleo included—would start questioning our so-called relationship. And that would blow up the delicate arrangement we had going.

"Great," I muttered. "So I get to spend my weekend playing babysitter to your fake social life?"

"Exactly," he said with a grin, as if I'd just told him he'd won the lottery.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Fine. Whatever. But don't expect me to enjoy it."

"Perfect." His grin widened, and he stood, looking far too pleased with himself. "I'll pick you up before school tomorrow so we can head out at lunch."

Before I could respond—or tell him how much I regretted agreeing—he turned and strolled out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

The door clicked shut, and I slumped back in my chair. This was a bad idea. I knew it. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach.

The next day came too quickly.

The morning was a blur of rushed packing and vague dread. I stuffed a duffel bag with clothes, toiletries, and the most important headphones for all the noise. The idea of spending an entire weekend with Tate and his group didn't sit well with me.

By the time Tate's car pulled up outside my house, I was already regretting my decision.

"Ready?" he called out, leaning casually against the driver's side door as I walked up to him.

"No," I muttered, tossing my bag into the backseat.

He smirked, opening the passenger door for me. "Too late now."

The drive to school was relatively quiet, save for the occasional jab from Tate about how grumpy I looked. I ignored him, staring out the window and trying to mentally prepare myself for the chaos ahead.

By lunchtime, the school parking lot buzzed with excitement as students piled into cars, ready to leave for the cabins.

Tate and his friends gathered by his sleek black SUV, laughing and joking as they loaded up their bags. I lingered on the outskirts, feeling like an outsider even though I was technically part of this ridiculous charade.

"Come on, Lex," Tate called, waving me over.

With a resigned sigh, I trudged toward the car. Sage shot me a condescending smile as I climbed into the backseat, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

The drive to the cabins was long and filled with loud music, inside jokes, and enough energy drinks to fuel an army. I stayed quiet for most of the ride, watching the trees blur past the windows.

Eventually, Tate glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his hazel eyes locking with mine. "You okay back there?"

I shrugged. "Peachy."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Try to loosen up, Lex. It won't be that bad."

I didn't respond, but as the cabins came into view, a sinking feeling settled in my chest.

This was going to be a long weekend.