“Radio silence. I’m not quite sure if it’s a blessing or a curse most days.”
The truth is I often think it’s better this way. Every visit since Reed has been built around guilt and uncertainty. They treat me like they’re unsure of who I am without her, and to be honest, I can’t quite get this feeling out of my gut that they’re somehow responsible. Call it a hunch. Call it bullshit, but it’s something.
Like Reed always said, if something feels off, it is.
“Well, be happy that your parents are using psychological terrorism against you. Unlike mine, who yield emotional terrorism like it’s their birth right.” The hurt in Delaney’s voice makes me feel uneasy for complaining about my parents.
She chooses not to speak about them often. From what I know, there’s good reasons. They’re in the middle of a nasty, public divorce. They’ve tried their hardest to pit their own daughter against the other. Unfortunately for them, Delaney is no idiot and has managed to stay neutral.
Most of the gritty details have stayed under lock and key. Let’s just say, if anyone knew of the bones Delaney’s family kept buried in their backyards, it would make the most corrupt family seem like angels.
She’s confided in me more times than I can count. Tireless nights spent devouring ice cream, sitting in the middle of her bed, while she regurgitated everything she’s overheard and seen with her own eyes since she was young. How she is a well-rounded young adult is beyond me.
“Still a mess?” I ask.
“A mess doesn’t even begin to describe this shit show. They’ve both basically made me, their own daughter, sign a gag order, meaning everything I’ve ever told you, needs to stay between us.” She imitates locking her lips and throwing an imaginary key over her shoulder.
“Absolutely. I’m sorry it’s gotten so bad.”
“And only bound to get worse. They’ve finally settled on certain details of the divorce, only because my father is willing to throw in the cabin in the Alps, so long as they can have everything completed by February.” She shoves a single finger to the back of her throat. “You know, so he can marry his twenty-year-old girlfriend.”
I laugh, gripping my stomach to control it. “She isn’t twenty.”
“Palmer, the girl can’t even legally drink alcohol, and now I’m expected to call her my stepmom. We’re three years apart,” she expresses, tossing a pen at my chest when I still can’t contain my giggles. “This isn’t funny. Oddly enough, my father’s present is a little insight into most of these boys’ futures.”
The Glass Heart student body is comprised of future senators, Supreme Court judges, and the best of the best who hold great influence over powerful men. With power always comes temptation, and these boys have had power pumping through their veins from birth.
“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” Delaney pulls her phone out of her purse. Her eyes widen as she scans the screen. She drops it back in, scoops her books together, and throws them in her backpack, standing while she zips it.
“Where you headed off to?” If she isn’t sticking around, neither am I. I’ll head to my next class early and get some studying done in peace. Ever since Marek hunted me inside the library, it always feels like there’s eyes on me.
“I have some things to handle, but I’ll see you tonight at the game, right?” she asks.
“I don’t think I’m going.” I’d rather rip off my toenails.
“Don’t you think it’ll be worse for you if you don’t show up?” She frowns, worried what my defiance could mean for me. “Sometimes you have to bend not to break.”
“There’s something about them, I can’t put my finger on it, but when it comes to Reed, my stomach twists into knots, like they’ve played a part in what happened to her.”
“No offense, but if they did, the last thing I want my best friend to do is go toe-to-toe with them. I kind of like you alive.” Delaney’s nose twinges at her overstep. “I’m so sorry, Palmer. You know what I mean.”
“I do.” I sling my bag over my shoulder and stand to walk with her to the door. “I’ll see you there, okay? And I’ll try my hardest not to step on their toes.”
“We both know that’s impossible for a girl like you.” She laughs, blowing me a kiss before stalking up the stairs. As she hits the top landing, a familiar hand covers hers, the metal wrapped around his finger brushing her knuckles.
What is she doing with Breaker?
******
Academics give prospective students at Glass Heart Academy a reason to study here, but sports, it’s what fills the bodies of those students with adrenaline.
The crowd in the stadium is intense tonight. The cement aisles are damn near packed with fans eager to watch Marek Hawthorne do the thing that comes natural to him. Football. Our team is undefeated three years running, and the talent that boy holds in his body is the reason. As a freshman, he walked on and snagged a position right out from under a senior. This is the moment the rest of the student body started to take notice of him, positioning him in a place that allowed him certain privileges.
From the bottom of the bleachers, I scan the crowd until I catch Delaney five rows up. She’s wearing a bright red, plaid skirt that’s much shorter than the official uniform on campus. With the black knee-high socks and a cut-off Bulldogs t-shirt, she looks like the rest of the girls in the stands.
I check my own outfit and immediately feel outside of the “in” club. This is something I’m used to. With a deep breath, I ascend the large steps with all eyes on me. I don’t belong here, and everyone knows it.
After Marek’s little show on the front lawn of the English building, they’ve gifted me a wide berth to make sure they are not mistaken as being kind to me. After all, they wouldn’t want their king to see them overstepping the boundaries of his mandated social blackout.
“You could have told me about the dress code.” I flick the hem of her skirt and step past her.
“You need to get out more.” She inspects my jeans and zip-up sweatshirt with disgust. Her eyes never meet mine, and she crosses her arms over her chest, blatantly ignoring me. Delaney has never made me feel bad about what I choose to wear.
What the hell is that about? Being treated like shit by my best friend isn’t how I expected to spend my Friday night.
“I’ve gotten out, and see where that’s gotten me,” I mutter under my breath. I want to add a threesome with our teacher and one of the biggest assholes on campus, but I stay quiet, my eyes scanning the field.
It’s easy to spot Marek. His large build makes him stand out in any crowd. He pulls his helmet off, grabs a hose contraption on the sidelines, and squirts water down his throat. Sweat from the first two quarters covers his face. The scoreboard shows we’re tied fourteen-fourteen.
“He’s been playing like shit,” the guy in front of us whispers to the man next to him, afraid someone will hear him talking poorly about our school’s savior.
“What’s going on?” I ask Delaney, trying to pull her attention from the sophomore boy next to her.
“You have some nerve, Palmer.” She rolls her eyes, then turns her back to me.