Silver’s cheeks tint in red as she leans closer as if to intimidate me. “Remember what I told you the last time, peasant?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Your words aren’t important enough for me to remember.”
“Hashtag burn,” Ronan coughs.
Kim snorts.
“You little — ” Silver opens her mouth to say more, but Mrs Stone walks into class.
“You’re nothing,” she hisses at my ear. “Know your place.”
Aiden guides her away without a look in my direction.
Not a word.
Usually, he’d sit on my desk and try to charm me with his golden boy grins. He’d say, “Morning, sweetheart. Did you dream of me last night?”
He’d poke and probe me until the teacher comes into class. He’d talk dirty in my ear and watch me with amusement as I squirm and fight not to blush.
At first, it was an infuriating routine, but then I’ve gotten used to it. Hell, I might have looked forward to it, wondering what he’d say.
Why did he do all that if he planned to take it away? Is this some sort of punishment? Another one of his mindfucks?
I try to focus during class, especially since we have an upcoming test, but I can’t.
My attention keeps drifting back to Aiden and Silver. They’re sitting next to each other at the back, downright flirting. He flashes her his golden boy smiles and she slips him notes every now and then.
I wonder what she’s telling him.
Find me after school.
Fuck me after school.
Let’s make fun of Elsa.
Damn them both to the darkest pit of hell.
I’m not going to cry.
I focus back on Mrs Stone’s monologue about the importance of literature. I’m fuming and my feet keep bouncing underneath the table.
Honestly? I only have myself to blame. I’m the stupid fly who fell into his well-crafted web. I’m the moth who knew it’d burn but went to the fire anyway.
In a thesis done by a Norwegian doctor I don’t remember his name, he highlighted the male species behaviour about a pursuit. He mentioned that men lose a considerable amount of their drive once they score the sex part of the deal. The general hypothesis is that subconsciously, men still have the caveman nature.
They live for the chase and once they have what they want, they just lose interest.
I hated that thesis when I first came across it. It was the epitome of sexism and general hypothesis. But then, is it really wrong? It’s proven time and again that the sense of safety can make men lazy in a relationship. That’s why some of them cheat. They’re always seeking that sense of thrill. The taboo of it.
When we learnt that the neighbour is divorcing her husband because of adultery, Aunt Blair said that most cheaters who later become in an official relationship don’t last long. The strong desire they had was only because they were in a forbidden relationship.
It’s all about the chase.
There’s no denying that the chase turned Aiden on. My struggle gave him a challenge he needed to crack. A game he had to win.
He did everything to make me bend to his will and once he had me, his flame turned to ashes.
He got me out of his system and now he’s done.
I’m not going to cry.
As soon as the bell rings, I stuff my things into my backpack and hurry to the washroom, ignoring Silver’s shrill laughter.
I need to wash my hands.
No one talks to me or shoots bullying remarks in my direction. Seems that whatever brief thing I had with Aiden will keep the school off my back.
Yet, I don’t feel happy.
I don’t feel… anything.
For two years, I always had Aiden’s attention. In some twisted way or another. But now it’s like I don’t even exist.
I’m not going to cry.
Something invisible crawls on my hands, and they feel so dirty inside and out.
I barge into the washroom and thrust my hand under the faucet. I scrub them over and over. Between my fingers. Underneath my nails. I rub my palms, the back of my hand and even my wrists. I don’t stop until my skin is red and stinging.
I stand in the washroom alone, the sound of water fills the empty silence.
As I stare at my red hands, the first tear falls on the side of my palm.
The second follows.
Then the third.
I sniffle, trying to hold back the tears as I did since Saturday.
Only this time, I can’t fight the tide.
So I let it loose.
I promise myself that this is the last time I cry for Aiden King.
Chapter Thirty-Three
For the rest of the day, I try to pretend that Aiden and Silver don’t exist.
But the thing about pretending? It’s all about putting a cool mask on the outside and burning on the inside.
Every time I see Silver’s arm draped around Aiden’s, I itch to break it. I want to pound her face into the floor until she no longer breathes.
That’s another scary thought.
I’ve been having too many scary thoughts lately. I’m probably backpedalling. To what. I don’t know. I’m not even supposed to think I’m backpedalling. That would mean I admit having a worse state of mind and I’m rearing back to that.
I really need to see Dr Khan.
With heavy feet, I head to the pitch. I’m really not in the mood to share a practice space with Aiden.
I contemplated cutting school, but that would mean I’m running away.
And after the washroom episode, I promised myself to never cry or run away anymore.
My gaze strays to the pitch where some of the football team players are stretching. Aiden stands at the sideline talking to Silver. It’s like he’s honey and she’s a bee. She wouldn’t stop hanging off his arm like a parasite.
But is she a parasite if he keeps smiling at her like that?
If he keeps flirting with her?
He wreaks everything in his path with a smile on his face. Including my heart.
I want to play tough, to think I’ll wake up tomorrow and he’ll be in the past. But I’d only be fooling myself.
So I hide in the corner like a creep, having a pity party with myself. We still have fifteen minutes until practice. I already changed into my track clothes, but I’m dreading going down there. I don’t even have Kim to keep me company.
Screw Aiden and his barbie doll. I won’t run away.
The moment I straighten myself, I notice a shadow lurking in the back. I startle with a small gasp.
Cole sits under a plum tree, reading a book — Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre.
My cheeks tint with red at the thought that he’s seen me act like a coward for the past five minutes.
He’s dressed in Elites’ jersey and shorts. His hair is slightly wet as if he ran it under a faucet.
Aside from Aiden, Cole has always been the most mysterious. He’s not talkative at all. I can count the number of times I heard his voice. He’s usually the audience of Ronan’s animated speeches and the most adult-like out of the four horsemen. That’s probably why he’s Elites’ captain.
Cole never showed me malice or interest. He just exists as if passing through the school is a breeze in his life.
He’s popular, but he’s not a manwhore like Xander and Ronan. He’s just… serene.
Now that I study him closely, he’s quite handsome with long chestnut hair and dark green eyes like the forest after the rain. If I weren’t so biased, I’d say he’s even more good-looking than Aiden. His beauty is calm compared to Aiden’s dangerous one.