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If the praise or admiration fazes him, it never shows. He accepts the compliments humbly, making rounds to wish the Lacrosse team luck and joke with the theater kids. He asks Roddy Locke if he’s recovering from his broken leg alright. He takes a detour by the chocolate muffins to purchase one – and drops five hundred dollars into the donation box while he’s there. “Thank you so much, Adrian!” The marching band kids sing, mouths agape. It’s like watching Lionswood’s very own Mother Teresa in action.
I adore him already
The dark curly hair that kisses the nape of his neck, long, thick lashes, and a wickedly sharp jawline are a dangerous combination on their own, but with his tall swimmer’s build cultivated from years as Lionswood’s swim team captain, his looks are downright deadly. An aristocrat as recognizable by the slope of his nose as he is by the Rolex on his wrist.
Oh, I'm charmed 💗
His eyes are empty. Devoid of kindness, light, of any kind of human warmth – and so dark it’s unsettling. If eyes are supposed to be the window to the soul, Adrian’s soul is looking pretty hollow from where I’m sitting.
Oh, I'm about to eat this bitch up
“And less than stellar geometry grades,” adds one of the math teachers, her gaze shrewd. “As a senior, I’m surprised you’re even still taking that course. Have you completed any extra-credit to bring those scores up?” “I’ve done some of it,” I retort, “And I know they’re not…ideal. But it’s barely the start of October and I’ve just been caught up with –” “Extra-curriculars, hopefully?” Adds another teacher. “Are you in Debate club? Mathletes? DECA?” A warm flush creeps up my neck. “Well, not those, but I’ve taken three years of advanced art classes here. I didn’t have time for it in my
...more
oh, my girl is STRESSED 😭
One: the landlord in question was Mom’s boyfriend, Ed, who had plenty of reason to kick us out after he discovered Mom hooking up with one of her co-workers. It was a shame, too. Ed had an actual house and hardly charged us rent.
POPPY PLEASE 😭
But that’s when the screams start and I know I’m not the only one who has spotted Mickey’s body lying five floors down, his head cracked open like a cantaloupe on the concrete.
Well fuck
Which means he’s lying. Adrian Ellis is flat-out lying about his whereabouts last night. I stare at him. He’s comforting Sophie now, letting her weep into his shoulder about the unfairness of death. I push the plate of lasagna away, my appetite gone.
👀👀
Something burns in my chest, and it’s not guilt. I tried. I tried to be friends with Mickey. To bond over our shared outsider status, and he shot down every single time. And given all that’s happened in the last week, I’m not sure his efforts to rebuff me and blend in did anything more than just make us both feel alone. It’s pity I feel.
😔🤙
Too quietly for anyone else but him to hear, I say, “No, you weren’t. You’re lying.” Now that gets his attention. Adrian turns and levels me with the full weight of his dark eyes. My breath hitches, half-fear and half-surprise. His eyes, framed by long, inky lashes, are so dark they might as well be black – and even more hollow than they look from a distance. He gives me a once-over that does not feel like the appreciative glance a teenage boy would give a teenage girl but something else entirely. Like he’s sizing me up.
why did this immediately remind me of when you suddenly realize that an apex predator has noticed you for the first time
He steps around me, and I think we’re done, but then he pauses and gives me one last parting glance. “I don’t think I caught your name.” I swallow. “Poppy.” “Poppy.” It rolls off his tongue like butter, and I suddenly understand why Sophie lights up whenever he addresses her by name. “It was lovely to meet you.”
*This action will have consequences later.*
After what I said to him at the vigil, Adrian is going to know I ratted him out to the cops. That I’m the reason he got led away like a suspect in front of everyone. I can only hope whatever answers come from this are worth it because I’m pretty sure I’ve just made an enemy out of the most influential student in school.
No, because!!
I can’t shake the feeling that it’s all just beginning.
Oh, you are most definitely correct about that.
True to his word, I’m the proud owner of a stunning Burberry backpack and two hundred more dollars before the day is over. It is, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned. I can’t stop skimming my fingers over the checkered canvas material. This bag retails for two-grand, which, in the grand scheme of things, means nothing to kids who drop that on Friday night dinners. But it means something to me. This bag is the first thing in four years that’s put me on equal footing with my classmates. The first thing in four years I’ll be able to wear with pride here.
Oh, I like her. For once, I get an FMC that actually understands the value of nice things. 💗💗
I look forward to seeing you, Poppy Adrian
Girl 👀 Thoughts and prayers
The longer I stare at the invitation, at Adrian’s frustratingly perfect cursive penned on the back, the more ominous it looks.
Because it is 🥴
I refuse to take the bait, which is why I decide to spend my Friday night the right way: snuggled up in my PJs with a hot cup of tea and my sketchbook. A cheesy old sitcom playing on my laptop serves as background noise while I draw.
gods I love her, she reminds me of Amabel
There’s a beat of silence and then the receptionist quietly says, “Unfortunately, Detective Mills is no longer an officer at our department, but I can direct you to another one of our detectives.”
Oh, my girl got got....
I stare at the stupid, cream-colored invitation collecting dust on my desk and decide the potential of pig’s blood is not enough to scare me off from finding out exactly what that may be.
*This action will have consequences later.*
“Whatever you’re reading must be absolutely riveting,” says a low, smooth voice behind me. I freeze, panic closing around my throat.
You in danger, girl 👁👄👁
Well-intentioned snooping. That’s believable, right? At least, it probably would be if I hadn’t already accused him of lying and sicced a detective on him.
Yeah... actions have consequences don't they? 🥴
“You know what I think, Poppy?” Cool breath ghosts over the shell of my ear. His voice is soft – almost seductive. I don’t dare answer. “I think you’re lying to me.” The trembling spreads to my other extremities, but I hold my ground. “I’m not lying.” “No? So, you didn’t read Mickey’s entire journal? Not even the part where he names me his killer?”
Oop! 💀
I want to. Every muscle in my body screams for me to do just that. Beg. Appease. Pull out the puppy dog eyes. Melt into a puddle of tears. But I quietly ask, “Is that what Mickey did before you pushed him out the window?” I feel the weight of his hand with every word, every short, gasping breath. “It didn’t seem to help him very much.” A lazy smirk transforms his face. “No, I suppose it didn’t.” Oh God.
👁👄👁!!!
“I’m not going to beg,” I say, voice steadier than I expected. “But if you just –” I swear his hand tightens. “If you just hear me out for a second, I can give you something else.” My pulse races. “It’ll probably be more entertaining than hearing me beg for my life.” One thick eyebrow arches. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not interested in your body.”
ADRIAN PLEASE 😭
“And I could tell you that I won’t say a word,” I continue. “And mean it. Because, as much as I’ve liked playing detective these past few days, I’m way too selfish to die for a guy that wouldn’t even make small talk with me. But I’m guessing that doesn’t matter because, honesty aside, I’m a liability, and I think you’re going to kill me, anyway.”
See? This is why I love her. My girl actually has functioning neurons!!
“Not right now. You’ve just become the most interesting thing on campus, Poppy Davis.”
*This action will have consequences later.* 🥴💗
Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure my stomach drops through those same floorboards when I catch Adrian’s gaze – and he begins striding confidently in my direction.
Oh Lord 🥴
The whispers are everywhere, but one sharp voice rings out above the others. “Adrian,” Sophie calls. “We made room for you. Sit with me.” She wears a smile, but it’s pulled tight around the edges. Adrian lazily glances Sophie’s way. “Maybe next time. I’m good here.”
not the dismissal!
I try to tell myself that all this attention is a good thing – a security blanket. He can’t kill me with two hundred eye-witnesses in the room, right?
my girl is STRESSED
Which is why I have no problem leaning forward and hissing, “What the fuck do you want?” His smile curls into a smirk. “Well, you got me thinking the other night. About how I need a little more honesty in my life.” I stiffen. “Are you sure you know the definition of the word?” I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m usually better at controlling my mouth and what comes out of it, but something about Adrian has me firing off like a loose cannon – which is a dangerous problem to have in front of a murderer. Adrian just keeps smiling, though. “I’m a quick learner.”
I hate to break it to you, my girl, but I think you might've bagged yourself a yandere 🥴🫰
“Do you still draw?” “What?” The question is so sudden, so unexpected that the silver fork I was wielding like a weapon slips from my grip. “You won second place in a county-wide art contest in sixth grade,” he explains and then leans in close like he’s telling me a secret. “Between me and you, though? Yours was the best. Should’ve gotten first.”
Adrian oh my god
“I told you on Friday. You’re the most interesting thing on campus,” he answers easily. “So, I did my research. I wanted to learn more about you.”
Oh he's a Certified Yandere ™ 🥴💗
“I’d make a great model, you know. I can sit perfectly still.” He takes another bite of his apple and winks at me. “And I’m not shy. You can dress me up or down as you’d like. Whatever your artistic vision calls for.”
Oh yeah, you are never getting rid of him, bestie 😭😭💗
He stands up. “Tonight. You indulge my curiosity, and I’ll indulge yours.” His face catches the light of the cafe’s blue and green stained-glass windows, and for a moment, I’m struck by just how beautiful he is. It’s only a moment though – a single terrible, appalling moment. And then he’s heading in the opposite direction before I can process the repercussions of what I’ve just signed up for: more alone time with Adrian Ellis.
👀👀👀
But I remind myself that he doesn’t know anything – he can’t – and smile like I’m not a question away from breaking out in stress hives. “Well, you know what they say. Cs get degrees.” And Cs also put me on the precipice of losing my entire scholarship.
🥴
I let out a disbelieving scoff. “Okay, now I know you’re fucking with me. You have not been to the Louvre.” “Of course I have,” he shrugs. “My family likes to summer in Europe. My mother usually drags me there at least once a year.” Well, I can’t argue with that logic. If I’ve learned anything at Lionswood, it’s that summer becomes a verb once you enter a certain tax bracket.
That's so fucking real
“I hate to break this to you, but you’re not the only person in the world with dark brown eyes,” I tell him with cherry-red cheeks. Adrian suddenly steps into my space, and my heart pounds like a drum. He leans down, his faces only inches from mine, with a smug smile. “No…but these are my eyes,” he says. “The eyes never lie. Did you know that the human iris is more unique than a fingerprint? All these little patterns and shadows you’ve so accurately drawn here? Those are mine.”
*bangs fist on my bed* The way he scratches the primal parts of my brain so well!!!
“Like your eyes,” he continues, his voice soft. “Light brown speckled with dark.” There’s a pause, and then his thumb dips lower. “And your freckles. Almost as unique. Like constellations.”
I'm gonna start climbing my walls
He leans down until we’re almost nose-to-nose, his hands flat on either side of me. “Do you think I’m stupid?” He murmurs, eyes narrowed. He’s shed the friendly, golden-boy mask, and he is pissed. “You must think so,” he continues, and a hand snakes around the table, straight to my blazer pocket, and –
I am *horribly* attracted to his brutality
He glances down at my phone. “I’ve got to be honest with you, sweetheart. I’m not sure undercover work is your calling.”
not the "sweetheart"!!
And then he says, in a voice like he’s describing the weather, “My name is Adrian Ellis, and I killed Mickey Mabel.” My brows shoot toward my hairline.
Oh my god?
“On Tuesday, I agreed to meet Mickey in his dorm room at 6 PM following swim practice. We chatted for several minutes, and then I opened his window and pushed him out head-first so I could watch his brains splatter all over the concrete. Afterward, I returned to my dorm room, finished some homework, and slept like a baby.”
It's been so long since I read a character like him, I am unfortunately, in love, despite him being fucked to the max
He opens the door and shoots me a smile that makes my blood run cold. “Well, it’s quite simple. I killed him because I woke up Tuesday morning and felt like it.” He shuts the door behind him, and it takes exactly ten seconds – one for each fading footstep – to realize that I don’t believe him. And five more seconds to realize he took my sketchbook with him.
Oop! 🥴
He purses his full lips in the impression of a pout. “You know, you’re being a little rude, Poppy. No small talk? You’re not even going to ask me how my day’s been?” He makes a tsk sound with his tongue. “I’ve got to be honest. I expected more after the way I opened up to you last night.”
I'm genuinely so shocked? It's been*so* long since I've been treated to a MMC this sassy??? The author wrote him for me
As curious as I am to know why Adrian actually killed Mickey, our encounter last night proved that playing detective will get me nowhere. The Ellis family is too powerful and too resourceful, and the truth – the guilty, awful truth – is that I don’t want to die for Mickey, no matter how innocent or wronged he might’ve been.
And honestly? I can respect that! Far more than you trying to play Captain Save a Hoe! To someone who's already dead!
“Oh, sorry,” I say, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Let me rephrase. My attendance at Saturday’s swim meet will be completely voluntary. No coercion at all.” His smile widens. “And you’ll bring a sign in support of me?” I stare at him. “You want me to make a sign?”
I swear this is like some Yandere Mating Ritual shit he's pulling rn lmaoo
I muster the strength to peel my face from the floor and look at him, and it must be the loss of oxygen talking because the first thought that crosses my brain is: I’d like to draw him.
Probably that and the fact that you attracted to him.
He shifts on his feet, and the light catches several thin scars that mar his left ankle. They crisscross over each other like he’s been cut in the same place more than once. All of them faded with time.
Something to note for later 👀
He shrugs. “Well, I’ll admit that I did consider letting you drown, but…” He shakes his head. “It would’ve been such a hassle. Finding an alibi, talking to the police…I have better ways to spend my night.” “You’ve really got a bleeding heart, don’t you?” “I’ve been told so.”
GODS I love them
As if he can sense he’s the subject of conversation, Adrian twists toward our bleachers and searches the crowd. Sophie stands up abruptly, nearly toppling over Penelope, to wave at him, but his gaze jumps right over her and to – Oh. He’s looking at me. Here, in front of everyone, it sends a strange flutter through my stomach.
🤭💗
Boyfriend? Mickey’s journal had loosely mentioned a girlfriend, but I’d never connected the dots. Because I’m supposed to be done playing detective. I’m supposed to be keeping my head down so that I can have a quiet and uneventful senior year.
You *are* 👀
