This will be another day without dinner. It’s harder to vomit my food at night. It leaves me jittery with a stomachache and the inability to sleep, and if I can’t sleep, that fog will eat me in a matter of seconds.
After bidding Mari goodbye, I step outside, plastering a smile on my face. No matter what happens between me and Mum, Kirian can’t and will never find out about it. Not that he doesn’t suspect it, but I want to protect him as much as I can.
My smile falls when I find him dragging Xander by the hand from across the street. The freaking boy next door appears. His sun-kissed hair is tousled, bedroom style. His white hoodie contrasts against his tanned skin and his black jeans hang low on his hips as if Kir found him in bed and he barely had the time to button his clothes.
Shit. I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the exact case. Kirian has free access to the Knight’s mansion – sort of like I did in the past. Ahmed opens the door for him, even if no one is at home. Lewis always dotes on him and the shit, Xander, treats him well.
“Hold on, Superman.” Xander rubs his fingers through his hair as if submitting it, but it’s only making it hotter.
Wait. No. There’s nothing hot about Xander.
My blood still boils from the way he called me a slut earlier. How he said he’ll make me watch as he fucks other girls.
Screw him a million times over and all the other girls he screws.
A prickling sensation has been digging at my skin since he said those words. I meant it, though – he’s the last person I would ever want.
I might have been stupid enough to wait and hope for his forgiveness once upon a time, but now, he’s just the boy next door.
The arsehole who lives across from me.
“You said you’ll help, Xan.”
“Of course.”
Kir wraps both his small hands around Xan’s bigger one, tugging him in my direction. “Kimmy is with Mum. You have to bring her out.”
My heart warms so hot, I can feel the remnants of the fog withering away, condensing into water and falling in the distance.
My baby brother is thinking about me. I underestimated his ability to feel the tension between me and Mum.
He shouldn’t have sought Xander for help, though. He’s part of the problem, not the solution.
Heck, he’s the worst part of the problem.
“Kimmy!” Kir shrieks upon seeing me and runs in my direction, his little feet carrying him slower than he likes.
I watch the street for any cars, even though we don’t have traffic around here.
“Hey, Monkey.” I ruffle his hair, completely erasing Xander from my surroundings. “Are you ready to go?”
He nods several times, then stops as if remembering something. “Can Xan come with us?”
Abso-fucking-lutely not.
I plaster a fake smile and direct it to said arsehole. “I’m sure he has things to do.”
I think I imagined it, but his jaw tics before he offers me his golden boy smile that causes his cheeks to crease, and there they are. Dimples. Deep, attractive as hell dimples.
He really shouldn’t have dimples. That should be exclusive to the good guys, not to bastards.
His smile and those dimples are a couple of the reasons why the girls fall all over him at school like he’s some sort of Casanova.
Actually, he is one. I’ve lost count of the number of times he’s disappeared with a girl – or two – in one of Ronan’s parties, only to appear some time later with lipstick all over his shirt and neck and the girl, hair messy and lipstick smudged, grinning like an idiot as if she ascended to heaven and is now returning.
Once again, it’s not me. It’s my ability to notice everything. If it were up to me, I would erase him completely from my existence. Or maybe, if I had some sort of a time machine, I would go back seven years in the past and not do what I’ve done.
But time machines don’t exist. This is what we’ve become and there’s no changing it, no matter how much I want – or rather, wanted to. I no longer yearn for his forgiveness.
He’ll never grant it, and I’ll just be hurting myself.
“Do you have things to do, Xan?” Kir asks him as he pulls me so the three of us are standing near the middle of the street.
“Depends.” He’s speaking to my brother, but his entire unnerving attention is on me.
His light eyes are drawing a dark path into my soul, all paved with thorns. When we were kids, I thought magic was the reason behind the colour of his eyes. Turns out, it’s black magic.
It used to be easy when I had the habit of averting that punishing gaze, when I pretended that this would be over soon. It’s never happened. And now that I’ve sworn to meet him head-on, it’s getting exhausting.
Keeping eye contact with him is like drowning into the ocean of his irises. The harder I stare, the closer I am to the bottom.
“We’re going to Elsa.” Kir clutches Xander’s hand with his free one. “Come with us, please?”
“Sure, Superman.” He musses Kir’s hair.
“Yay! Hear that, Kimmy? Xan is going.”
“No, he’s not.” I lean over to hiss to Xander, “Since when do you go out with us?”
“Since I decided I can.” His shit-eating grin never disappears. “Besides, I’m going to Aiden.”
“Go to him in his damn home.”
“Or I can go to him at Elsa’s since he never leaves her side.” He steps closer and it takes everything in me not to push back. His body heat mingles with mine and I inhale him in, mint and fresh clothes out of the dryer and… Is that a hint of alcohol?
He’s still smiling, but his tone is biting as he murmurs. “And lose the fucking attitude.”
“Can we go in your car, Xan?” Kir jumps, oblivious to the tension brewing between us. “Can we?”
“No.”
“Of course.”
Xander and I speak at the same time. I shoot him a glare. “I have a car, let’s go separately.”
I pull on Kir’s hand, but he refuses to budge. “I want to go in Xan’s car. It’s sooo cool.”
“You little ungrateful brat.” I stare down at him, incredulous. “Whose car drives you to school every day?”
He pouts, blinking up at me with those puppy eyes. “But today, we can go in Xan’s car. Please, Kimmy, please?”
The resident arsehole’s lips tug in a smirk as he watches me fighting the Kirian pleading effect and losing miserably.
Still, there’s no way in hell we’ll go in Xander’s stupid car. I just have to find a way to convince my baby brother of that fact.
As if sensing my intentions, Xander retrieves his keys from his pocket and throws them in Kirian’s direction. The latter clutches them with both hands, staring at them with wild eyes.
“Go ahead.”
“Really?”
At Xander’s nod, Kirian runs towards the dark blue Porsche, trotting and grinning like an idiot. I’d hate to put an end to that joyful expression and I hate that this bastard is the reason behind it.
Maybe if I weren’t such a chicken shit, I would ask Dad for a sports car instead of my safe MINI Cooper.
“You’re a wanker, okay?” I sigh in both frustration and resignation.
Xander kills the space between us until his face is mere inches from mine. His mint breath intertwines with my shaky one as his eyes darken to a bottomless blue colour.
I’m so taken aback, it takes me a moment to realise the proximity.
He hasn’t been this close since that time at the beginning of the year when he cornered me in the garden and told me – or rather, snapped at me – to stop wearing short skirts.
It was the first time he’d gotten close after so many years of tormenting me from afar and blatantly leaving the room whenever I came in as if I had a contagious disease.
He cornered me a few times after and they all had to do with my dress code.
Fuck him. It’s not like he’s my dad.
Like every time he gets close, I can’t control my breathing. I know it’s inhale, exhale.
In. Out.
But sometimes, even those simple steps are the toughest thing to do. For one, I keep breathing him in with every inhale and breathing my confusion out with every shaky exhale.
It’s as if I’m about to vomit my heart, not my food. His lips twitch and I nearly faint, stopping the breathing struggle altogether.
Is he going to kiss me?
Shit. Shit.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, pulling my head away.
“I wasn’t doing anything, but if you keep the attitude, I’ll do things you won’t like.”
My lips part, then I quickly clamp them shut at the thought he might consider that as an invitation.
Damn him and damn me.
“Kimmy! Xan!” Kirian hops in front of the car. “Come on!!”
I raise my hand in a small wave, using the chance to pull out from Xander’s orbit. It’s like a magnet that keeps dragging me in despite my attempts to stay away.
When I chance a glance back at Xander, he’s not intimidating me with his gaze as he was a moment earlier. He’s staring at my hand, my wave, and then his focus slips for a moment.
No, no, no.
I drop my hand to my side and pull down the sleeve of my woollen pullover as I brush past him towards Kir.
He didn’t see.
He couldn’t.
5
Xander
Elsa’s foster sister, Teal, has taken Kirian downstairs. Judging by his sly grin, he’ll probably charm her to get himself another brownie.
I was supposed to go with him or search for Aiden, but I find myself at the door of Elsa’s room, staring through the small opening like a fucking creep.
Hey, don’t judge. Creeps have reasons, too.
Elsa is on her bed, wearing her pyjamas. Her long blonde hair is tied in a ponytail that covers most of her back. Kimberly has a bent leg on the bed as she smiles along with something Elsa’s saying about her stupid soap operas and shit.
She’s been telling Elsa how much she’s missed her and that the school sucks without her. Every time Elsa reaches over to her friend’s hand, Kimberly tactfully pulls it away, keeping it beside her.
I tilt my head to the side as if that will give me an exclusive view of all the inside info. I’m itching to go in there and fucking rip up the sleeve of that pullover to see beneath it.
What the fuck are you hiding?
“Take these.” Elsa picks up some avocado pieces with her fork and gives them to her friend. “Since Dad and Aunt learnt that avocados are good for heart disease, they’ve been stuffing me with them.”
“I’m good.”
“Come on. Try them. They’re wonderful.”
A smile flashes on Kimberly’s lips, which is obviously forced, as she grips the fork with trembling fingers and stuffs the pieces of fruit in her mouth. The way she makes herself chew is like she’s eating a dead insect.
Since the beginning of this year when she returned to school looking slim and hollow, I knew a big chunk of her was missing, aside from her curves.
She’d become this mimicking of a person who bent to others’ views of what they thought she should look like.
The Kimberly I knew wouldn’t have followed others’ instructions about her life. She wouldn’t have looked at herself in the mirror and thought, hey, how about I become someone else?
I might have hated her more than before, I might have watched her through the window and contemplated how to fuck her life over and ruin whatever the hell she was trying to become.
But as I watch her now, and after I saw that shit earlier and heard what Kir said when he was frantic that she was with Jeanine, I’m starting to have a different thought altogether.
Maybe the fake behaviour isn’t her endgame.