There’s so much wrong with her words that I don’t even want to reply, but I feel like a bitch just ignoring her. “Yeah, we used to be step-siblings.” The statement fills me with weirdness.
Her eyes do that thing that every teenage girl perfects – like she can see everything about me at once and judge my worth in a second. “Well, he still obviously looks at you like a sister. He doesn’t just talk to random girls.”
I bite my tongue and turn my back on her, planning on hitting the other bathroom near the cafeteria. It’s more crowded right now, but it will still be better than dealing with whatever issues this girl has. The idea that I could be a ‘random girl’ to any of the guys that I lived for when I was a kid hurts more than it should. But they don’t owe me anything. Not anymore. And Manny is probably just guilty that he used to be family and has been ignoring me since our parents died. He also needs a good grade in the creative media class. Manny will go to great lengths to get good grades.
I don’t need to go to the cafeteria for lunch. I didn’t pack a lunch and I don’t have any money. I can’t leave without my bike, though. Knowing I’ll get in trouble if I try to hide out in the hallways, I head towards the cafeteria and attached courtyard where most of the kids eat. I sit down with my book for English AP, my earbuds in and music blasting.
When someone sits next to me, I look heavenward before I look over. I don’t believe anything is watching over us up there, but I might find patience if I look at the sky hard enough.
Orion grins widely and hands me a fully loaded sub sandwich that I know he didn’t get in the cafeteria line. He holds it in front of me for what seems like forever before I finally take out one earbud and give him a confused look.
“What?”
“It’s for you. Mom makes us two of these every morning, but we got breakfast this morning.”
Realization dawns. “Was that your sandwich I ate?”
“This morning? Nah. Manny texted us right after we went through the drive-thru, but I ate four before I got there with yours. I would have saved another one, but Apollo ate it before I could stop him.” So, it hadn’t been my favorite on purpose. It was just extra, like this one. Not that I’m complaining. Beggars can’t be choosers, right? But that was this morning. Although the sub looks delicious, I don’t want to keep eating his food.
“I don’t want to take your sandwich.”
I feel eyes on us, and it’s only then that I realize that one of the most popular boys is sitting next to the quiet girl with the dark eye makeup and the bitchy attitude. There are various rumors about me, just like there are about Aric – and everyone else in school that doesn’t automatically fit into one of the little prepackaged groups. One is that I’m the illegitimate sister of a famous indie pop singer. I do kind of look like her. The other is that I was in a mental hospital all through junior high, even though half the idiots who spread the rumor were at DeWitt with me. Britney told everyone that I tried to be goth but couldn’t get it right. Why is it such an alien thing for me to just be me – not a label, but a person?
“I have another one. Take it.”
“If I take it, will you go away?” I ask quietly, noticing all the people that are staring. Apollo is standing near the door to the cafeteria as if waiting to see where his brother is going to sit before he commits to anything. Manny isn’t here, but he and Aric usually aren’t. I don’t know what they do, but they don’t come to the cafeteria. If I could figure out how they got away with it, I would do the same.
“You want me to go away?” Orion looks hurt. His golden green eyes fade as he pouts in a puppy dog way that makes my stomach flip over.
“It’s not that. Everyone is staring.”
“I don’t care,” he says, all trace of disappointment gone.
“I don’t care either,” I sigh, “but I’d rather not clean up the brain matter of a hundred small-minded teenagers’ brains exploding at once. I’ve already noticed changes since you guys started talking to me again. Everyone prefers it if we all stay in our designated corners, especially so close to graduation. We can’t go making changes to the social order now.”
Orion bends a little closer to me. I want to drool at the way his tight t-shirt pulls against his muscles. His chest is broad and his biceps are thicker than my thighs. But I’m not that big, so it doesn’t take much. I accept the wrapped sandwich before he drops it into my school-issued paperback.
“We should have never been separated in the first place,” he murmurs in a low voice that is just for the two of us. My heart clenches. “But just for today, I’ll listen. See you in class.”
I watch him leave until I realize it might look like I’m pining after him. I stick my earbud back in and pretend to go back to my book. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Orion and Apollo have a quiet conversation before Apollo looks over at me, shrugs, and they go to their usual popular kids table. Jack’s lips flap and I’m glad that my music drowns out his obnoxious voice.
As I pick at the sandwich, which is amazingly delicious and packed with every type of meat and some kind of expensive cheese I can’t name, I think about Orion’s words. I remember starting ninth grade here after being separated during middle school. Orion and Apollo had tried to bring me into their group, but they’d already established a clique with the most popular kids in school.
Although there were two middle schools, Baker was bigger. Being the wealthier school, their popular cliques automatically transferred to high school. It’s like DeWitt was the filter. It pointed out who the poorest kids were because it covered the lowest income parts of town. DeWitt kids were automatically relegated to the bottom once high school started.
I hadn’t harbored as much anger toward the brothers as I did Manny, but I just didn’t belong in their group. They’d never shut me out, but they were interested in retaining their status as the best on the football team. I’d pushed them away intentionally, not wanting to be the reason they committed social suicide.
But the blame doesn’t fall only on me. They could have tried harder if they’d actually wanted to be friends with me. I know they hung out with Manny out of school, though, and that was another reason I pulled away. Aric was kind of stuck in between me and them, and finally decided to remain somewhat of a neutral party.
I force myself to eat half the sandwich, although it suddenly tastes like dust. I wrap the rest and stick it in my pack. It will still be good after school so I’ll have something to eat before my shift at the store. Not having my bike reminds me that I can’t stop at the food pantry, and I refuse to use my meager savings to buy food for Mom and her boyfriend. If I’m absolutely starving, I’ll dig into it, but I wait until the last possible minute. I could ask Aric to take me, but I’d have to be sure he wouldn’t tell the others. I don’t want them to know.
Chapter 12
Manny
After Senya took the breakfast I’d told Orion to bring, Aric filled us in on her bike and the possibility of another predator shacking up with her mom. All day, I’ve been vibrating with anger. My dad is a lawyer. I want to ask him what kind of protections she has. I know it’s four months until she turns eighteen. I’ll turn eighteen this month, but the other guys have already passed that marker; Orion will be nineteen shortly because his parents kept him back to start school with Apollo.
I can’t even concentrate on school because I’m so busy worrying about her. She used to come to me about everything. When we were kids, she would crawl into my bed in the middle of the night if there was a thunderstorm or we’d watched a scary movie. She’d stopped about a year before our parents died, but it was only because we were both getting too big for the little twin beds without it being kind of awkward. But she still came to me. She still told me when she needed me. I don’t know why that stopped so suddenly after Mom died, but I wish I could turn back time.
School passes in a blur. I enter my last class on auto pilot and am almost surprised to see them all sitting there. Aric is behind her, and the broth
ers are sitting next to her so I take the seat on the other side of her. We might not work in a group today, but I want to be together as a group. It seems like the others want it too, although they might have just gravitated toward Senya. That hasn’t changed since we were kids.
“Did you get lunch?” I ask after I sit down. Jack is releasing hot air on the other side of the room, but we’re all ignoring him. At least, I am. The idiot never says anything worth listening to.
“I ate.”
I glance at the others, and Orion nods to confirm it. “Good. I’ll take you to work after class. Is that okay?”
She looks back at Aric which makes me a little angry – or angrier. He shrugs. “It makes more sense for him to take you, Sen. He lives closer to where you work. I’d have to backtrack to get to the shop.”
“Fine.” She grinds the word between her teeth, revealing the flash of the tongue stud. I hadn’t known how to react when she’d shown us last night. It was a strange mix of arousal, confusion about why she did it, and a little bit of disgust because tongue piercings are the least hygienic of all piercings. They’re the most likely to get infected. If she’d asked me, I might have warned her off. But she didn’t.
Mrs. Desmon spends most of the class talking about the different forms of media and asking the groups what they’re planning. “And what about you, Group 5?”
The rest of my group looks at me. I guess I’m the spokesperson.“We’re considering print media, maybe a magazine.”
Mrs. Desmon’s eyebrows rise. I have a lot of respect for her as a teacher. She listens to the students and still cares after twenty years of teaching. I’m sure that makes her one in a million. Teachers burn out quickly. “That’s unique, but also quite the undertaking.” She nods in approval which provokes grumbles from the group across the room that’s doing a blog. “Let me know if you need assistance with materials.”
I nod and she gives us a few more pointers before the bell rings.
My hands are shaking. I’m scared Senya is going to run. Irrationally, I think that if she doesn’t get in my car right now, I’ll never have another chance to figure out what went wrong. I look at the other guys with a command in my gaze. We talked about how to keep her safe, but we’re not sure what to do. She won’t appreciate our meddling.
“I’ll text you after I drop Senya off at work,” I tell them. Hopefully, I can call my dad and give them something worth hearing.
“Do you need to stop at your locker?” I ask her, but she shakes her head and follows us out of the room. I don’t want to walk in front of her. I’m worried that she’ll run if I turn my back on her.
When we leave the classroom, Orion takes her hand. Confusion shadows her gaze and she tries to pull away, but he flashes her a blinding smile. It has the same effect on her that it does on other girls. She gives up trying to pull away. I can’t decide whether I’m grateful to Orion for making sure she doesn’t run or jealous because of the way she’s looking at him. I know we’re shaking up the social status of the school, but I don’t care. I ignore all the looks just like I always do. Being an intelligent athlete didn’t put me in any group; that never bothered me. Now, I just want to be where Senya is.
We stand outside my car, tension filling the air between us until Aric steps forward. “I’ll pick you up in the morning? We can see what to do about the tire this weekend. Is that okay? I don’t think I’ll get to it before then.”
She’s not happy. She pulls her lip in between her teeth and chews while she considers his words. Finally, she nods. “That’s fine.”
“You’ll be okay tonight?” Aric pushes and Senya’s eyes fly up. She studies my face before moving on to the brothers. None of us looks surprised.
“You told them?” Her voice is a deadly hiss as she accuses Aric.
Color rises in his pale cheeks. “I can’t protect you by myself, Sen. I have my own problems. I figured they could help.”
“I don’t need help. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sorry, Sen. I’m just really worried.”
She turns away from him. She can’t see it, but his shoulders automatically hunch. She has no idea how much power her words have over us. She glares at me over the hood of my BMW. “I have to get to work. Are you taking me or not?”
I click the unlock button, but Orion catches her before she can get into the car. He pulls her into a hug that looks as natural as if he were trying to embrace a tree. Her body is stiff in his arms, but it doesn’t even seem to register with him. That’s Orion.
Apollo watches, but his eyes are unreadable. I know he’s on the fence about Senya coming back into our lives. His concerns are valid. We’re four horny teens, she’s a hot girl, and we aren’t kids anymore.
Apollo nods at her when Orion finally lets her go, and she slides into the front passenger seat with a pretty pink blush in her cheeks. I’m able to ignore her while I pull out of the parking lot, but then my attention narrows. She smells so good, like some variety of flower I can’t name. The weight of all the years hangs heavily between us. It’s only made worse by her position. She sits in the seat like it’s about to eat her. Her arms are crossed so tightly over her chest, it looks almost painful.
“Where do you work?”
She tells me, and I set the GPS when we’re stopped at a stop sign while she frowns disapprovingly. I’m trying to think of something to say when she finally opens her mouth. “Nice car.” It’s not a compliment. She’s upset about it.
I shrug. “My dad got it for me.” I glance at the clock. “When do you need to be at work?”
“My shift starts at 5.”
Perfect. I swing the car over to the side of the road and into the parking lot of a grocery store. She grabs the door handle in surprise, her eyes wide at my sudden movement. “What’s going on?”
“You have plenty of time before work, so I want to talk to you.”
“Manny.” Her voice shakes. She’s contemplating opening the door and running.
I put the car in park, lock the doors, and turn towards her. “Senya, please. Just let me talk for a second.” I take off my glasses and rub at my nose. “I’m so sorry my dad took us away right after the funeral. I tried to call you, but the phone number your mom gave me didn’t work. I know life wasn’t the best for you.” I cringe as she snorts. “I had no idea, Sen. I had no idea that you needed us, needed me, or I would have been there for you.”
My heart hurts with my authenticity, so much that I’m not expecting the anger that explodes from her eyes. I was hoping she would forgive me once she saw how genuine I am, but evidently not. Her jaw hardens and she squeezes her forearms tighter.
I put my glasses back on but force my eyes to stay on her face and not on the cleavage she’s unintentionally creating when she presses her arms against her breasts like that.
“You knew I needed you. I know snail mail is so yesterday. I know my handwriting sucks, but we didn’t have a phone and I couldn’t ever get to a computer. At first, I thought that you just needed time settling in. I figured maybe once you were all moved into your new house, you would write me back. So I kept sending the letters every week, sometimes twice a week. So don’t give me that shit, Manny.”
“Senya…” My brain is whirling.
“You knew I needed you. Acting like you didn’t know is low. You were the only one I reached out to. We used to be family, and you just ignored me because you were so busy with your new family.”
“Senya,” I repeat with a firmer tone. “What letters?”
Something sparks in her eyes before they harden again. “Twice a week, Manny. We used to be a family. Twice a week for six months I wrote you and got nothing back. Not even once. You could have given me your phone number if you didn’t want to write. I would have found a way to call you.” I can't bear the pain that’s leaking through her voice no matter how hard she tries to keep it in.
“Senya, stop.” I pry her fingers from her forearm, wincing at the crescent shapes of her finge
rnails in her skin. With her hand in between both of mine, I try to rub the stiffness and cold out of her fingers. The physical contact finally silences her so that I can defend myself. “I never got any letters. Not one.”
She doesn’t look like she believes me. Her hand jerks in mine, but I don’t release her. “1485 Birch Street, Bradenton, FL. I even remember the zip code. I wrote it so damn many times. One letter could have gotten lost, but not as many as I sent.”
“That bitch,” I breathe as the pieces settle into my brain. Rage settles like a stone in my gut. She frowns at me like she’s thinking I'm talking about her. I rush to explain. “My stepmother. I bet she hid the letters.”
She arches a brow at me. “You expect me to believe that? That’s like every story or movie plot twist ever to absolve some asshole of his guilt.”
“Senya.” My voice is firm, and it takes me back to when we were kids. I only used this tone when I was my utmost serious. I used it once when she wanted to walk across the bridge after it had been closed down for repairs. I used it when she threatened to break my chess trophy because she was mad that I got to pick the movie for family night. I hold her gaze.
“It’s true, Sen. I never got a single letter from you. I promise I would have written back if I had. If I’d known, I would have done everything I could to get back to you. It ruined me thinking you’d just forgotten me. I’d hoped that it was just a misunderstanding and we could talk when I moved back. But you were so mad at me. I never knew why.”
She arches an elegant brow, the dark makeup around her wide blue eyes just enhancing their color and the paleness of her skin. We used to call her Snow White when she was a kid. That perfect porcelain skin, that black hair, and those bright blue eyes. She doesn’t have the unnatural red lips, but she wore ruby lipstick one Halloween, and she looked just like the fairytale princess. “Why would your stepmother keep my letters from you?”
I’m still holding her hand. She’s relaxed her grip and isn’t trying to pull away anymore. I stroke my thumb over the back of her hand, marveling at how soft her skin is. “My stepmother hates me. She didn’t want me to live with them when Mom died. Because my dad and mom were never married, my stepmother likes to say that he slept with the help. She says that’s all I am – the maid’s child.”
Lost & Found: Contemporary Reverse Harem Page 8
