𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ➶

𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝕆𝕟𝕖: 𝕄𝕦𝕣𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕄𝕪𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕪

After the Rave'N, Valentina --understandably-- had a lot on her mind. Deuce may have turned out to be an ass, but he still gave her some sound advice before showing his true colors.

She needed to break up with Morticia and Gomez. She just couldn't figure out the right time and place.

While she was brooding over it in the library one evening, hiding from her soon-to-be exes, who else but Vincent Thorpe took a seat across from her.

"Valery, right?" He asked with a smile.

Her left eye twitched. The two of them had been eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the same table since almost the beginning of the academic year... Yet here he was, pretending not to remember her name. Or, at least, she hoped he was pretending. Maybe she actually meant that little to him.

Fine. Two could play at this game.

"Victor, right?"

It was hard to believe his plastered-on grin could get any faker, but --lo and behold-- it was happening right before her very eyes.

"Not exactly," he said with a forced laugh before extending his hand to her. "Vincent Thorpe! We were never officially introduced."

That was a fat load of bull, and they both knew it. Morticia introduced her to everyone the second they'd become girlfriend and girlfriend and boyfriend.

She didn't want to argue with the older boy, though. So she let out a little sigh of frustration before reaching out to shake his hand. "Valentina Zhang," she replied in a disinterested monotone.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Valentina!"

He was probably expecting her to say something along the lines of, "The pleasure's all mine," or properly oooh and aaah over him like the rest of the freshmen did. And, if this were her first day, she probably would have.

But she had a good read on Vincent Thorpe's overall vibe by now. He was the poster child of self-interest. His favorite book was probably Atlas Shrugged.

"Let's cut to the chase, Vincent. What do you want?"

If anything, he looked a little relieved that he no longer had to perform the old song and dance of pretending to care about her. "How would you like to help me solve a murder?"

What on earth did he mean by that? She answered as openly and honestly as she could, despite her confusion. "I'm not really into true crime," she admitted. A lot of outcasts were borderline obsessed with unsolved murders, but it wasn't her cup of tea. She was sensitive and didn't need any more reasons to be scared of the world.

He made a face like he'd just sucked on a lemon. "And you call yourself Gomez and Morticia's girlfriend?"

She bristled. To be fair, she'd never called herself their anything. It was them who decided the three of them were dating.

Sensing that statement didn't win him any brownie points, Vincent immediately followed it up with, "Nevermind that. I need your help. What do you want in exchange? I'll pay any price."

That gave Valentina pause. What did she want? She didn't need his money, given how relatively well-off her family was. She wanted a clean break with Morticia and Gomez, but that wasn't something Vincent would be able to provide. She wanted... She wanted...

"I want to set you up with someone. You've got to give the relationship a fair shot! A minimum of three dates."

His smile morphed into a scowl. "I'm guessing you take after your mother, the matchmaker? Can't say I'm a fan of your craft. Sounds like a good excuse to meddle in the affairs of others," he groused.

That was an awfully pessimistic view of love magic. She gave him a half-shrug. "Do you want my help or not?"

She should have known she was in over her head when he didn't even hesitate. "We have a deal. Now... When's the last time you saw Deuce Petropolus?"

Valentina sat up straighter in her chair to hide how she stiffened at the mere mention of the boy. "The night of the Rave'N." Then, before he could pose a follow-up question, she asked in turn, "Why? Do you suspect him of foul play?" Sure, he was a foul player, but a murderer? Come on. Really?

"No," Vincent drawled. "I suspect he's dead." If not for his solemn expression, she would have guessed that he was pulling her chain. "I saw him die, in one of my visions."

Which begged the question... "Are your visions ever wrong?"

"Very, very seldomly."

She relaxed a little, but only a little. "So, that's a yes."

He heaved a put-upon sigh. "If you must know, yes. And I want more than anything to be wrong, especially this time. But that doesn't change the fact that Deuce is missing."

This was Valentina's first time hearing as much. Wouldn't the school tell them if one of its students just up and disappeared? "How long has he been missing?"

"A couple days now. The last time anyone saw him was the night after the Rave'N. His car's still parked in the campus lot, so he didn't just drive off into the sunset."

"Maybe he took a bus or a train."

Vincent made a face like, "Ew. With all the poor people?" Damn these rich kids. "Aren't you listening to me? I saw him die."

Yes, but he also said that his visions were sometimes wrong. Still, she decided to humor him. "What did you see?"

"I saw him turned to stone... Then smashed to bits with a sledgehammer."

God, that was graphic... Valentina was grateful to have been born a love witch and not a psychic. "Did you see who did it?"

"Would I be asking you for help if I did?" Touché. "I do have one suspect, though. Gomez Addams."

God, this better not be a fucked-up new facet of his feud with the Addams boy. Just in case it was, she asked, "Why would Gomez hurt Deuce? Those two are all buddy-buddy!"

Vincent looked her dead in the eye and said, "Jealousy." Her expression must have given her away because he followed that up with, "You liked Deuce."

"What's there to like?" It was a defensive response, but the only one he'd be getting.

"You must have seen something you liked. I've heard snippets of eyewitness accounts from the night of the Rave'N. Some said they saw you in his convertible on the road to Jericho. Another spied you two dancing the night away through the windows of a coffee shop."

"No one was there when he abandoned me in Jericho that night." Valentina stated, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. It was better to be angry than sad about it. "So, yeah. I liked him. Past tense."

He was quiet for a long spell, before eventually asking, "Did you tell Gomez as much?"

"The only person I've told is you."

Another pause. "I still think it's Addams. And I can prove it!"

Okay, she'd bite. "How, exactly?"