Free Over It (The Kiss Off #2) by Sarah Billington Page B

about it. What would an Academy of Lies perfume smell like? A boys’ locker room? What did the locker room at Mount Martha's smell like? I don't think I'd be into that."
    Ty rubbed his face in wide–eyed horror. "Whoa," he laughed. "Hard pass on the fragrance, it is."
    A door opened and a woman walked out of a room, said goodbye to someone and smiled at Ty in acknowledgement as she passed us.
    "What is it?" Ty said. I hadn't even noticed I'd stopped walking. Hadn't noticed I'd stopped breathing. "What's wrong?"
    "That was Lexie De Graff, wasn't it," Mads whispered with an amused smile.
    "Lexie?" Ty asked, "Yeah. What's going on?"
    "Nothing," I said, squeezing Ty's hand tighter than...a tight thing. I couldn't think, I couldn't move. Stop it, Poppy, be cool.
    "What’s going on? Are you a fan or something?" Ty said, watching me, trying not to smile.
    Mads nodded and spoke for me. "You don’t know? Oh, fan doesn’t even cover it."
    "Shut up," I whispered, " just shut up ."
    They all started snickering into their hands, trying to keep their voices down. Down the hall behind us, the elevator door dinged and Lexie De Graff, the Lexie De Graff stepped inside and was gone.
    I couldn't believe that had just happened. And I’d simply stood there, turned to stone, couldn't think, couldn't even move. How humiliating. At least I hadn't started screaming and fainted or anything. As the elevator doors closed, my shoulders relaxed, the tension seeping out of me. My heart pounded in my ears with relief.
    Way to go, Poppy.
    And oh my God. My boyfriend knew her!
    Suddenly everyone’s laughter was loud and all–encompassing. My cheeks heated up and I moaned and buried my red face in Ty's tee shirt.
    "Real smooth, babe," Ty said. "I had no idea."
    I snatched the key card from his fingers and strode down the hall a few more doors. "What room are you?" I said.
    Ty's face fell. "Forty–two, but wait a sec, I have to warn you-"
    I found forty–two and stuck the key card in the slot. Before I could touch the handle, the door was wrenched open and Lana paused mid–stride, in surprise.
    "Poppy," she said. Mascara streaked down her cheeks and her platinum blonde hair was piled in a messy knot on top of her head. Her skin was blotchy and her eyes bloodshot. A completely different Lana to the one I'd known a few short months ago. She leaned in, gave me a quick hug, said, "Good to see you," and stepped around me, power–walking down the hall as fast as she could.
    "I..." I watched as Ty and the others moved to the walls to let her through. "Good to see you, too?"
    She didn't even look back.
    I mouthed "Wha...?" to Ty and he shook his head, darkly. Pointing down the hall at Lana, he then pointed his finger at his head and wound it in a circle beside his ear, the universal symbol for crazy–cakes.
    What the hell had been going on?
    Tommy was halfway to the door, shirtless and looking annoyed, when I poked my head into the room. Sorry – not room, what I meant to say was palatial suite.
    "Hey you," he said, eyes lighting up. He enveloped me in his usual bear hug, pressing his new chest and arm tats against my body before lifting me off the ground and setting me down again. He squeezed me so hard I felt my spine pop.
    He looked pretty much the same, though his black hair was a little longer, the fact that he was wearing eye liner was new and his half–sleeve of tattoos had grown, the artwork crawling up toward his shoulder.
    The others filed into the suite and Tommy looked out into the hall, checked both ways and closed the door behind us.
    I heard tyres squealing, explosions and trash talk coming from further into the suite, and through a double set of doors saw a massive wall–mounted TV and the back of a bunch of guys' heads over a modular couch. Engrossed in the game, Seb and Archie, the final two members of Academy of Lies, were on the couch next to two other dudes I didn’t know. There was a guy perched on the arm of the couch, holding a