Fearless (The Privileged of Pembroke High #5)

by Ivy Fox

  “Not really. I did the host thing. Now it’s time to do the Reid thing.” He smirks, pouring the amber liquid into both cups. “Cheers,” he adds, touching the lower end of his cup with mine and drinking it in one gulp.

  I follow his lead and do the same, the bitter liquid burning my throat and esophagus.

  “Who were you talking to just now?”

  “No one,” he retorts, his impassive expression a completely blank canvas.

  “Didn’t sound like no one to me.”

  “I know that we’re friends and all Chad, but some things should remain private,” he replies, pouring another healthy dose in each cup.

  “You’re right. Didn’t mean to pry.”

  I mean, who am I to give him shit if he wants to keep stuff to himself? It’s not like I’m an open book either.

  I get up from the bed and walk along the room, my eyes trailing over his desk and finding familiar black notebooks on top of it. I feel his hesitance behind me when I open one up and start flipping the pages.

  “These are Maya’s,” I announce, closing one book and opening another.

  “Are they?” He shrugs, feigning ignorance.

  “Yes, they are. She spends most of her time with her head in between these books back at school. Why do you have them?” I ask protectively, wondering why something so precious to Maya would end up in Reid’s hands.

  “We’re both working on Ms. Thompson’s Lit assignment together. I must have grabbed them by mistake and put them in my bag without realizing it after our study session.”

  Bullshit.

  The thing about spending most of your life lying through your teeth is that you recognize when someone is trying to feed you a crock of shit.

  “Right. So that wasn’t her on the phone with you just now?”

  He takes another drink, his friendly demeanor long gone.

  “Why the twenty questions, Chad?”

  “Like I said. I’m just curious.”

  But as Reid’s blue eyes turn a shade darker, I’m suddenly hit with a memory of the last time I was in this room. Only that time, I didn’t just find Maya’s books in here, but I found the girl herself. The vague memory of some party that Reid threw freshman year to celebrate the swim team beating their biggest rivals comes to the forefront of my mind. I recall that the minute she saw me, and I told her Saint was with me, she ran away as fast as her legs could take her, Reid right at her heels.

  “Let’s talk about something else, shall we? You’re ruining my buzz.”

  My lips thin into a frown at his reply. I continue to flip through the pages, reading a bit of the story she’s written down. It’s good. I mean really good. Which begs the question of why she never came to me about them. I’ve told her a few times over the years that if she ever wants to get serious about her writing that I can help her. That my dad can help her. So why did she give them to Reid instead of us?

  But before I can read any further, Reid is at my side, slamming the book shut.

  “Enough of that. I don’t think Maya would appreciate you reading her stuff without her consent.”

  “Why? She’s really talented.”

  “She is. But it’s still her decision if she wants to share it or not.”

  “Hmm. You know my dad is a writer. He could probably help her with her craft. Maybe even get her an agent or a publishing deal.”

  “Again, it’s her decision to make.”

  “You’re oddly protective of her. Why is that?”

  “Just let it go, Chad,” he growls under his breath.

  “It was Maya on the phone, wasn’t it?” I insist, getting an exasperated grunt from him.

  “Fuck, man. You really can’t let shit go, can you? Just forget you heard anything and forget you saw Maya’s notebooks here. You’ll only make things harder for me if you don’t.”

  I don’t get his logic, but since I don’t want him to kick me out of his room and force me to go back to that insufferable party, I concede. For now, at least.

  He pours me another drink and then sits down on the floor, leaning against his bed, while I prefer to sit in his desk chair.

  “You wanna talk about the shit that’s been going on with you? I bet it’s better than what I have going on in my life.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Try me.” He shrugs.

  “Why? You haven’t been forthcoming with your stuff. Why should I share my shit with you? Friendship is a two-way street, Reid. Isn’t that why you’re pissed with Ash?”

  “Touché.” He raises his cup before taking a swig. “You got me there.”

  “So was that Maya on the phone, or not?”

  “It was,” he replies with a stern face.

  “Are you two together now?”

  “We are.”

  “How come I didn’t know about it?” More importantly, why does no one at our school know?

  He huffs and takes another gulp.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “How so?”

  “Let’s just say there are a lot of people in my life that wouldn’t like the idea of me dating a girl like Maya. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “A girl like Maya?” I blurt out pissed. “You mean a girl who is talented, smart, and one of the strongest human beings I have ever met? You mean that kind?”

  His upper lip curls in a snarl, but he doesn’t answer me.

  “Do you love her?”

  This time his lips thin at my question, not liking that I went there.

  “You either do or don’t. Which is it?”

  “I do. Very much so. Still doesn’t make shit less complicated. In fact, it only makes it worse.”

  “I really don’t understand you.”

  “You don’t have to,” he quips, looking just as enraged as I feel. “Now, since it’s clear you want to have a heart-to-heart, it’s my turn to ask the questions. Did you know Elle was hooking up with Saint, or did you get the memo at the same time the rest of the school did?”

  Motherfucker. Right to the jugular.

  “No. I knew about it.”

  “And you’re cool with that? Having your best friend steal your girl away from you?”

  “Saint didn’t steal anything. I’m the one who fucked up.”

  “I can’t see how that’s right. You’re a fucking boy scout.” He laughs.

  A pained groan rips through me at the term Reid just used, the ghost of Saint’s voice whispering the endearment in my ear.

  “I’m no boy scout. Trust me. I’m the one in the wrong here, and I know it.”

  I reach my hand out for another drink, and Reid kindly obliges, the liquor loosening my tongue and easing the ten-pound boulder I’ve been carrying on my chest since Thanksgiving break.

  “I really did try to do right by them, you know? I did everything in my power not to bring them pain, and yet that’s all I caused. Serves me right that I’d be the one hurting now.”

  “I’m gonna need a little more than that,” Reid says, looking perplexed at me.

  I take another swig of my drink and stare at the golden liquid that reminds me of Elle’s beautiful eyes.

  “Let me guess? It’s complicated,” he adds mockingly.

  “Love always is.”

  “Fuck, I hear that,” he chimes in, nudging his cup with mine. “So, what did you do? Seriously. Elle was all over your ass. How the fuck did you mess that up?”

  “I fell in love with someone else.”

  His eyes widen at the confession.

  “No shit!”

  “Yeah. You want to take a guess who with?”

  “I have no idea. There isn’t a girl at school that I can see that would make you fall out of love with Elle.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t love her. I love her with all my heart. Can’t fucking breath without her. I said I fell in love with someone else. That’s different. I also never said it was with another girl.”

 
Reid’s blue eyes only grow bigger in his head.

  “No fucking way. You’re not saying that you—”

  “Yep. That’s exactly what I’m saying.” I take the bottle out of his hands and pour myself a larger dose.

  “Saint? For real?”

  I lift my cup to him with a sad confirming smile and drink my booze in one go.

  “Jesus Christ. You are full of surprises, man. Yep. Your love life is definitely more complicated than mine. And I thought I had it rough. Damn, son.”

  “Tell me about it,” I whisper, pouring yet another drink for us both, the alcohol gently filling my bloodstream, giving me that blessed numbness I’ve been chasing for weeks.

  “Maybe you should slow down there, Chad.” His eyes crinkle in concern, but I shrug his worries away and raise my solo cup high up in the air.

  “To us. Two guys who fucked everything up because they were too pussy to do what their heart told them to.”

  “I’m not drinking to that. I’m no pussy. Besides, Maya and I are good. I haven’t fucked anything up.”

  I laugh because if I don’t, I might end up crying right here and now.

  “You will, Reid. I know a coward when I see one. I’ve been staring at my reflection for years now, so I know our kind.”

  “Fuck off. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says defensively, but I see the little hint of fear in his eyes that tells me I’m right.

  “Don’t do it, Reid. If you truly love her, then be the man she deserves. You’ll hate yourself otherwise.”

  “I’m not losing, Maya,” he sneers through gritted teeth, pushing his drink away.

  “I never thought I’d live without my heart and my soul either, but here I stand, empty without both.”

  And then, as the words poison my blood with their truth, I cry and mourn the love I could have had but was too fucking chickenshit to go after.

  Chapter 17

  Chad

  “Damn it. I should have never given you that other bottle you begged me for. You’re a complete mess, man,” Reid mumbles, hauling my slumped body by the shoulders to my apartment building.

  I must have blacked out along the way since I don’t even remember getting into his car and him driving us here.

  “I still think bringing you home was a fucking bad idea, but whatever. It’s your funeral. Do you have your keys on you?” he asks, but my mouth feels like sandpaper, too rough to form a sentence together.

  “Okay, then. Hope your folks are more understanding than mine. They are definitely in for a surprise. You’re so fucking wasted, dude.”

  Am I?

  I don’t feel anything.

  No, that’s not true.

  I feel fucking everything. I feel hollow and empty. Like someone took a butcher knife and carved out my soul. I press at the center of my chest, rubbing the pain away, but it’s no use. The booze might have numbed me for a bit, but now all it’s doing is heightening my misery.

  It hurts.

  It fucking hurts.

  I can’t stand it.

  I’m losing my goddamn mind, and there is nothing I can do about it.

  I don’t move a muscle as Reid rings my doorbell, my body too heavy to muster up any movement. When the door swings open, through blurry eyes, my father’s distorted form appears before me.

  “Sorry, Mr. M, but your boy here can’t handle his booze. My bad. It was my mistake. It won’t happen again.”

  “Thank you, Reid, for at least bringing him home. I’ll take it from here.”

  Reid hands me over to my father and apologizes once more before he leaves. Dad pulls my arm over his shoulder and drags me to my room.

  Shit.

  I can’t seem to do anything right.

  I can just see it now, my mom trying to psychoanalyze me tomorrow morning over breakfast as to why I felt the need to get shitfaced. And what will I be able to tell her? That I needed something to make me feel anything other than what I’m feeling each second of every day? That I’m lost without Elle and Saint? That I have nothing to tether me to the ground and that I feel like I’m slowly losing grasp of my mind since my heart and soul have been ripped away from me?

  Yeah, that will go great over pancakes and bacon.

  Bile rises up my throat at the very thought of food.

  “Hold on, son. We’re almost there.”

  When we finally get to my room, Dad ushers me into the bathroom. My knees fall onto the tile with a loud thud while I throw up every vile thing that has been shoved down my throat. Dad rubs my back encouragingly while I feel my whole body rejecting me just as they have.

  Elle’s golden eyes flash in my mind, as does the sound of her sweet laugh that will never be directed at me again. Saint’s devilish dark eyes come after, mocking me with how they no longer sparkle when they look at me.

  No. Now all there will be between us is hate and suffering—theirs and mine.

  Once I’ve hurled all that I can up, my father wipes my heated skin with a wet washcloth. The coolness of it tempering my nausea.

  “You’re okay now, Chadwick. I’m right here with you. Everything is going to be alright, son.”

  Everything is not alright.

  Everything will never be alright again.

  But just as the thought enters my mind, another reminds me that I’m not the only one in the room that I should put the blame on.

  “This is your fault!” I shout, pushing him away.

  “What?” he asks, confused, his eyes pained.

  “It is,” I shout, tears streaming from my eyes as I try to stand and walk to my room. “You were wrong. You were wrong! And now I’m paying for it.”

  “Son, I don’t understand. Please talk to me, tell me how I can help.”

  “Help?” I laugh sinisterly. “My life is over. I have nothing to live for anymore. Tell me, how the fuck can you help me now?”

  “Chadwick, you’re talking nonsense. You have your whole future in front of you.”

  I shake my head, my tears freefalling now.

  “Not if I don’t have them! Don’t you get it? They were the only things I ever cared about. They made my life whole, and now all that’s left is this fucking shell. I can’t go on. I can’t. It fucking hurts so much, Dad.” My knees give in, and I fall again to the tile floor. “It hurts. I don’t have the strength to go on like this. I don’t have it in me.”

  My father begins to sob just as fiercely as I am, hugging me toward him and rocking me back and forth.

  “How can I help you, son? Tell me. I’ll do anything. How can I fix this?”

  “Just make this go away,” I beg, slamming my fist into my heart. “I feel like someone is cutting me open. Digging a knife in deep, twisting it until all I feel is agony. Please. Just make it go away.”

  “Oh, son.” He weeps, holding me tightly.

  “You were wrong, Dad. You said I couldn’t love them both. That I had to pick one. And now I lost them both. You were wrong. I believed you, and now I lost them for good.”

  “Do you mean Saint and Elle?”

  “Yes.” I sob. “They’re done with me, and I can’t even blame them for it. I fucked up. You told me I couldn’t love two people at the same time, but I couldn’t help myself. I love them. I love them both, and now they hate me for it.”

  “Oh, Chadwick. I’m so sorry.”

  “I didn’t choose, so they chose each other. Isn’t that fucking ironic? How by losing them, they found each other. Fuck. Just make this go away, Dad. I can’t feel like this for another second. I’m losing it. I’m so fucking losing it.”

  “I’m so sorry, Chadwick. I’m so sorry I failed you. I should have known if there was a heart big enough to love two people at once, it would have been yours. Forgive me, son. Forgive me.”

  I cry into his chest for the rest of the night, my father’s arms around me, offering the only solace I’ve been able to find in months. I’m not sure how long w
e sit there on the floor, me crying away my regrets, but I must have dozed off during the night because the next time I open my eyes, daylight rears its ugly head, announcing a brand-new day that I will have to live as half a man without the other two pieces of my heart.

  “Good morning,” my father’s voice announces.

  I rub the sleep from my eyes, a monstrous headache making it hard to fully open my lids.

  “Is it?” I roughly reply, my tongue tasting gross inside my mouth.

  “Here, take these and drink this,” he says, handing me a bottle of water and two Advil.

  I don’t hesitate to take them and drink up.

  “You had a rough night.”

  “More like I’ve had a couple of rough months.” I try to joke, my gaze landing on a blanket and pillow in a nearby chair. “Did you sleep here last night?”

  My father nods. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  I place my forearm over my eyes because the damn sunlight is only making my headache worse.

  “Well, I’m not.”

  “Yes, I could tell from what happened last night. You’ve never come home in that state. Makes me worry for you.”

  “Well, don’t. I’ve got things handled,” I lie.

  He sits on the edge of my bed and pulls my arm away from my eyes.

  “No, son. You don’t. You got your heart broken. It’s normal to feel pain and suffering when that happens. But last night, I also saw something else. A side of you that troubles me. I think maybe you need help to deal with all these confusing and complicated emotions.”

  “You think I’m crazy?” I laugh. “Well, that makes two of us.”

  “No, Chadwick. I think that losing two people that you cared for like this was a blow that knocked you off your axis. And now you can’t seem to find meaning in your life. That’s not love, my boy. That’s codependency.”

  “Are you saying my feelings aren’t real?” I shout, regretting it immediately when my headache feels like it just doubled in size.

  “Not at all. They are very real. I have no doubt in my mind that you love Elle and Saint with all your heart. And I’m sorry I played a part in your suffering. What I’m saying is that somewhere along the way, you forgot who Chadwick Murphy is without them. Who are you, Chad?”