Free Cruel Love by Kate Brian Page A

hands, curling a finger on her right for each of her votes, on her left for each of Palmer’s, then starting over
    again, trying to keep track of the five-vote increments in her mind. e whole way, they were dead even. Finally, the vote came to Rob Mellon. All day, Ariana had gone
    back and forth over Rob, wondering whether he would go against Palmer. His girlfriend, Tahira, had been the one to nominate Ariana, after all, but he was also one of Palmer’s best friends.
    “Brother Von Hardwigg?” April said.
    Rob glanced over at Tahira, then away. “Brother Starbuck.”
    Damn , Ariana thought.
    Only Maria, Conrad, Palmer, and April were left. at meant that only Conrad could save her. He and Palmer had always been friends. What if Lexa’s death had bonded them, rather than torn them apart? What if their shared grief had solidified their brotherhood?
    If it had, Ariana would lose. But she couldn’t lose. e Stone and Grave presidency was huge. It would open up opportunities she could scarcely even imagine. If she could win this, she’d be set for life. She’d never have to worry about anything ever again. Her mouth was dry and clammy as the vote came to Maria.
    “Sister Estell—”
    “Sister Portia,” Maria interjected, not letting April finish her name. The note was made. The vote came to Conrad. “Brother Lear?”
    Ariana stared at Conrad. He clasped his hands together and rested his chin against them. His elbows wide on his knees, he leaned forward and let out a sigh.
    Please say Sister Portia, please say Sister Portia, please say …
    “I cast my vote for …” He paused and looked over at Palmer. Palmer gazed back confidently. Slowly, Ariana’s heart sank. e guy code was too strong. Conrad was going to vote for Palmer. “Sister Portia,” he said finally.
    Jasper let out a whoop, and a few people laughed, while others twittered nervously. It seemed Ariana wasn’t the only one keeping a running score. And as long as April voted for her, she’d just won Stone and Grave.
    “Brother Starbuck?” April asked.
    “Brother Starbuck,” Palmer said through his teeth.
    April made a note, then lifted her face from the book. “And I, Sister Miss Temple, cast my vote for Sister Portia. Which means … the new president of Stone and Grave is Sister Portia.”
    A grin lit Ariana’s face as Tahira reached in for a hug. There was the briefest smattering of applause, but they were quickly cut off.
    “You have to be kidding me!” Palmer blurted, standing. “She’s a newbie! She just transferred here, for God’s sake!” he shouted, throwing an arm out in Ariana’s direction. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
    “Brother Starbuck!” April admonished.
    Palmer turned the color of ripe grapes. His nostrils flared as he whirled around. “Screw this crap,” he said. “I’m outta here.”
    As he crossed the circle, he unzipped his robe and let it flutter to the ground. e heavy metal doors slammed behind him so loudly, the reverberation seemed to go on for days. For a long moment, no one dared move.
    “So, should we … um … celebrate?” Tahira said finally.
    Everyone looked at Ariana. She bit her bottom lip. They’re looking to their president , she realized with a start. They’re already looking to me.
    Quickly, she scrambled to her feet. “No. No celebration. It’s still too soon. Let’s meet back here on Tuesday, midnight. In the meantime, we should be mourning our friend.”
    ere were nods of agreement around the room, but still most members—even the guys—stopped by to congratulate Ariana. It was all she could do to keep from shouting and singing and doing a happy dance. Because whatever she said to the group, she did feel like celebrating.
    She, Ariana Osgood, was the president of the most exclusive secret society at one of the most prestigious private schools in the world. Celebrating was the only logical thing to do.
    SO WELL

    “We do have a bit of a logistical