Chapter 353: Little Miss Hero
In the end, it was Julian who settled it, mostly by refusing to argue about it any further and simply handing Josh the car keys with a look that meant this conversation was over. "You’re dropping your sister off today. She had a rough night, and I don’t want her riding alone."
"Fine," Josh said, in the tone of someone conceding a point purely to end the discussion. "I think I can deal with her for today."
"I’ll be the one tolerating you," Justina shot back, already heading for the door, and the two of them were still needling each other, shoulder-checking one another lightly on the way out, by the time they reached the car.
Amara and Julian stood in the doorway watching them go, shaking their heads at each other with the specific, resigned amusement of parents who’d stopped expecting their older two to get along in any way that didn’t involve some low-grade sniping first.
—
Josh noticed his sister go quiet about ten minutes into the drive, the joking entirely drained out of her, replaced by something tighter around her mouth, her eyes fixed out the window instead of on her phone.
"They’re going to hate me," Justina said finally, quiet enough that Josh almost missed it under the radio.
"No, they’re not." Josh kept his eyes on the road, but reached over without really thinking about it and put one hand briefly on his sister’s shoulder. "And don’t pay attention to them if they do."
It wasn’t a large gesture. It lasted maybe three seconds. But it meant something, coming from Josh, who flinched from hugs on principle and had, as far as Justina knew, hugged exactly one person freely in his entire life their mother, and only her, and only sometimes.
"Thank you," Justina said, and meant it more than the two words could really carry.
Josh didn’t say anything else the rest of the drive, which was fairly typical of him, but it wasn’t an unfriendly silence.
He’d always been like that, economical with affection the way some people were economical with money, careful about where it went and reluctant to spend it loosely, but real when it showed up at all.
On campus, the two of them split off in different directions almost immediately, the way they always did once they were through the gates.
Josh’s world was small and carefully curated, three friends, no more, no less, two of them minor royals from countries Amara could never quite keep straight, and one of them the president’s son, and the four of them shared an instinct for privacy so complete that most of the student body had given up trying to get close to any of them years ago.
Josh liked it that way. He’d told Amara once, in one of his rare unguarded moments, that he’d rather have three people he trusted completely than three hundred who wanted something from him, and he’d meant it enough that Amara had stopped worrying about how few friends’ names he ever mentioned at dinner.
Justina’s world was the opposite. Bigger, louder, more exposed. Her faculty building sat on the far side of campus from Josh’s, all glass corridors and open courtyards, and it was in one of those corridors, halfway to her first lecture, that Nolan’s group found her.
There were five of them, Nolan at the center of it, the way he was always at the center of things, flanked by two of his teammates and two girls Justina recognized from the party the night before, one of whom had definitely been in that back pantry.
"There she is," one of the girls said, not quite under her breath, loud enough to be heard. "Little miss hero."
Justina slowed but didn’t stop, tried to angle around them toward the lecture hall, but the group shifted just enough to box her path without quite making it look deliberate.
"Nice going last night, by the way," Nolan said, and there was none of the warmth in his voice that had been there the moment their eyes met across the kitchen less than twelve hours earlier. "Real cool move, calling the cops on your own friends."
"They weren’t my friends," Justina said quietly, hating how small her own voice sounded.
"Whatever, Daddy’s girl." One of the other boys laughed, an ugly, easy sound. "Parties aren’t really for babies anyway. Maybe stick to studying, since that’s clearly all you’re good for."
"Should’ve stayed home with your parents," the girl added, folding her arms, "instead of pretending you’re one of us."
Justina felt her face go hot, the corridor suddenly too bright, too loud, every eye that flicked toward the small commotion feeling like it landed directly on her.
She didn’t say anything back there was nothing to say that wouldn’t come out shaking, and instead pushed past Nolan’s shoulder, harder than she meant to, and kept walking until she’d turned two corners and found an empty stairwell, where she finally let herself stop, back against the cold wall, and cried.
Lucy found her in the stairwell ten minutes later, tracked down by nothing more scientific than knowing exactly where Justina went when she wanted to disappear.
She dropped her bag on the step below and sat down beside her without asking permission.
"Are you okay?" Lucy asked, quiet, no drama in it, which was exactly why Justina had trusted her with more secrets than anyone else at this school.
"I’m okay." Justina wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, streaking mascara she hadn’t bothered to fix. "He’s never going to look at me anyway."
Lucy was quiet for a second, choosing her next words with more care than she usually bothered with.
"Justina, Nolan’s a scholarship student. He’s not even on your level. If you told your parents what he said to you back there, one call from your dad and he’s done. Expelled, blacklisted, whatever they want."
"No." Justina shook her head immediately, firmly enough that Lucy blinked. "I’m not doing that. I don’t care about any of that, the scholarship, the money, none of it. I just like him. I really like him. And my parents can’t find out about this. Any of it."
Lucy studied her for a moment, then let it go, the way good friends learn to let certain things go rather than push.
"Okay," she said instead, brightening, clearly reaching for something to pull her friend out of the mood.
"What about the dance, though? The school one, it’s official this time, it’s on campus, it’s a whole thing."