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rich boys.

       Gold Creek seemed to be a town divided—the haves and the have-nots, all of whom had collected at Roy’s party. Rachelle wanted to go home more than anything right now. She had no business being here—

      no interest in any of the people who’d come here to pay homage to the Fitzpatrick wealth.

       “Surprised to see you here,” Nadine commented, raising a brow at Rachelle.

       “Yeah, don’t you have a midterm to study for or somethin’?” Patty asked, then giggled and turned her attention back to her cup.

       Rachelle felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Ignore her, she thought. Patty was drunk. As Rachelle watched, Patty draped one arm over Jason Kendrick’s back while he tried a particularly difficult shot. The cue ball skipped and clicked against the eight ball, sending it whirling into a corner pocket.

       “Too bad,” Jason’s older brother, Evan, said, but chuckled at his brother’s misfortune.

       Rachelle saw Carlie inching her way through the throng of kids, talking and laughing with several before plopping down on the bench beside Rachelle. “Where’s Laura?” She was holding a cup, sipping beer and trying to look as if she’d done it all her life.

       “Probably with Roy,” Rachelle guessed.

       “But where?”

       “I wish I knew.” Rachelle pretended not to be worried as she glanced around the room again, but she felt trapped. And Erik’s cryptic words about Roy wanting the girls there made her uncomfortable.

       Erik retreated to a corner with a group of boys. They were laughing and telling jokes, but Erik’s dark eyes never glimmered with the faintest trace of humor. Scott hung out at the keg, but his eyes kept returning to Carlie. “He likes you,” Rachelle said, and Carlie bit her lip.

       “I know.” She took a sip from her cup.

       “Aren’t you flattered?”

       Before Carlie could reply, some of the football players showed up. Brian Fitzpatrick, of course, Joe Knapp and a few others swaggered in. They bellied up to the keg, started drinking and became louder and louder, replaying the game over, down by down, drowning out the music and other conversation.

       Wouldn’t Coach Foster be proud? Rachelle thought with a trace of sarcasm. She had no right to judge the football players, though, did she? She’d shown up here, too. Of her own free will. No one had pointed a gun at her head and forced her into Erik’s truck.

       Brian smiled when he noticed Rachelle and Carlie. “Joinin’ the big boys, eh?” he asked, holding up his mug of beer. Some of the foam sloshed over his meaty fingers.

       Rachelle managed a smile. “I think we’re about ready to leave,” Rachelle replied. “As soon as we find Laura. We just need a ride.”

       “Laura Chandler?” Brian said, grinning widely. “She’s probably with Roy.” He sniggered to his friends and then glanced to the loft. “She and Roy have been seein’ a lot of each other lately, and I mean a lot.”

       This caused a roar from the crowd and Rachelle couldn’t stand it another minute. “Let’s find her,” she said to Carlie. She started toward the pool but stopped when she spied Laura slipping through the door. Her clothes were wrinkled, her hair a mess and mascara streaked her cheeks.

       Rachelle and Carlie surrounded her. “Where have you been?” Carlie asked. “What happened?”

       Laura ignored Carlie’s questions. “So you made it,” she said bitterly to Rachelle. “I was stupid enough to think you wouldn’t show your face here.”

       “This was your idea,” Rachelle reminded her.

       “No it wasn’t. It was Roy’s.” Laura’s voice was filled with a cold fury. “That’s why I started hanging out with you. Because he was interested in you! I thought I could change his mind, but I was wrong.” She sniffed loudly and her eyes glittered. “He wants you, Rachelle. He just used me to get close to you.”

       “But I’ve hardly ever talked to him—”

       “Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s seen you. At the games. At school. At your job with the Clarion.”

       “It’s only freelance—”

       Laura laughed harshly. “Doesn’t matter. Roy remembers you. You did a couple of articles about him when he was a senior. And, can you believe it, he’s even impressed that you write for the school paper—that you’re ambitious!” Tears had collected in the corners of her eyes and she wiped at them. “God, I need a cigarette.”

       Carlie dug into her purse, found an old pack of Salem cigarettes and shook one out for Laura. Grateful, her hands shaking, Laura lit up and blew smoke to the ceiling. “God, I’m such a fool,” she whispered, her voice cracking as tears streamed again.

       Some of the pool players glanced over their shoulders and a few of the girls stared openly at the cheerleader from Tyler High as she blinked rapidly and fought a losing battle with tears.

       “Look, let’s just get out of here,” Rachelle suggested.

       Carlie looked at Rachelle as if she were crazy. “How?”

       “I don’t know, but we’ll find a way.”

       “You—you don’t want to stay here?” Laura was flabbergasted. She took a long drag of her cigarette. “Roy will want to—”

       “I don’t care what Roy wants! I want to leave.” Rachelle really didn’t believe that Roy had any interest in her, but she wasn’t going to argue with Laura now, not in the state Laura was in. And Rachelle didn’t give two cents for Roy Fitzpatrick. “We can find someone to take us back—maybe Joe Knapp,” she said.

       Laura’s chin wobbled and tears drained down her face, streaking her cheeks with mascara. “I love him,” she said simply, and Rachelle felt a deep sadness for her friend—because she believed that Laura really did think she was in love. “I just…” Laura blinked hard but couldn’t stop crying. “I’m so embarrassed.” She wiped at the waterworks in her eyes.

       Carlie grabbed hold of her hand. “Come on. You can clean up in the bathroom.”

       “I left my purse outside. My makeup and wallet and everything…” She dissolved into tears again, and Rachelle felt more than one set of eyes staring at them. Erik Patton, from his position near the keg, lit a cigarette. Through the smoke, his eyes found Rachelle’s and he shook his head, as if he found Laura’s emotional condition pathetic.

       “I’ll get your purse,” Rachelle offered. “And I’ll find us a ride back.”

       Laura stubbed out her cigarette. Her hands were still trembling. “Thanks. I think I left it in the gazebo by the lake.”

       Rachelle didn’t waste any time. “I’ll meet you two by the front door in fifteen minutes.”

       While Carlie hustled Laura to a bathroom, Rachelle worked her way through the thickening crowd to the door. Outside, the air was heavy and close and the first fat drops of rain began to plop to the ground.

       “Great,” she murmured, hurrying along a lighted path that wound through the pines. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees and the breath of wind blowing across the lake was now cool with the rain. Her feet slapped against the bricks, and her hair streamed out behind her as she ran up the two steps to the gazebo.

       Roy Fitzpatrick was waiting for her.

       “I was thinkin’ I’d have to go in after you,” he drawled, his voice smooth as silk.

       She stopped dead in her tracks. “I just came for Laura’s purse.”

       “Here it is.” He picked up the purse by the strap and let it swing from his fingers. “Come and get it.”

       Fear slid down Rachelle’s