Sweet Like Revenge

50 - Reparations

The sound of my car door slamming echoed through the hotel parking lot, stealing the attention of some of my peers in what could have been interpreted as a bout of anger.

I think I even saw one of them flinch.

But I wasn't angry. Not angry at anyone else, anyway. Maybe at myself, maybe just at the small part of me that was Elle. Kat was right. She was a fucking bitch.

More than anything, though, I was determined. Determined to make things right.

I could have died in that car with Sienna. She could have braked too late, or not at all. We could have been empty shells on the side of the road. It took a brush with death for me to wake up, to realize what truly mattered. To realize that I'd tasted revenge, and that it didn't taste like I thought it would. It hadn't satiated me.

For the first time ever, I feared that hunger. I was afraid of the lengths I would go to in order to inflict my twisted version of justice on the people who had become my friends. I'd been lost in the shadows for so long that I'd totally forgotten myself, totally forgotten why I even adopted a fake identity in the first place. Not to take on the role of a bloodthirsty queen, not to lord secrets and dirt over everyone's heads. But to make things right.

Tonight, at the Presentation Gala, I was going to make things right with Kat and Chontelle. I was going to tell Cameron everything. And then I'd tell my friends everything, too.

If I was willing to forgive, then maybe they would be. Maybe they wouldn't be. But at least we'd all be free.

I spotted the Elites immediately—it was as if my eyes were trained to find them in a crowd. They were gathered at the front of the grand hotel hosting our gala, each donning similar black dresses or suits to match the evening's all-black theme.

I caught my reflection in a car window as I passed, straightening out my own black dress—tight around the waist with a short, full skirt that bounced when I walked. My hair was still bleached, waved and pinned off my face with dark barrettes, but gone was the pastel pink color palette, the glossy magenta lips, and the obnoxious glitter that made me Elle.

I wasn't Elle. I wasn't even Ana. I was just me. I hoped that it was enough.

I recoiled suddenly, literally lurching back and stumbling on my slingback heels. I peered closer at the car I'd been assessing my reflection in—a matte black Range Rover with Irvine-green rims that just had to be custom.

Astor's Rover.

Of course Astor Black was there. Of course he was there on the night that I wanted to make things right, on the night that I needed to muster the strength to face my mistakes head-on. The mere sight of him would probably trigger me into the next dimension, summoning Elle out of whatever crevasse of my mind I'd locked her in.

No, I thought. I'm not doing that anymore. Gone were the days of blaming other people for my choices. There was only one person in the world who could control my actions. Me.

I brushed off the sight of the vehicle, approaching the striking group hovering by the door to the lobby. They were laughing at something Nate had said, some of that laughter dissipating as I joined them. 

Kat and Chontelle stared back at me silently.

"Hey, Elle." Sienna leaned in to greet me, her lips grazing my cheek with a friendly kiss. Her eyes were coated in a white glitter that made her eyes sparkle like diamonds, a mischievous force tugging her soft features and lining her red mouth in a knowing smirk.

She squeezed my arm. And, just as she told me she would that morning on the phone, she turned to the rest of our group. "Should we start heading in? Registration might take a while."