by Elena Monroe
The gods had ways of torturing you with mediocrity and driving you mad by making you think things were coincidence or karma.
I'd watch people turn themselves inside out looking for the one infected part of themselves to cut off, finding religion, breaking up with their partners, or even creating a more disastrous situation for themselves, when the whole time it was my gods simply toying with miniature versions of hell.
Mediocrity was hell.
Routine was hell.
And New Girl? My own personal torture from the gods.
She spoke out of turn. She was confident in the ways girls this age shouldn't be, and she knew exactly how much she was annoying me every time that grin took over her face, like it was her favorite sport.
I pushed off my locker just annoyed with her being in the same hallway as me. We had a game to play against our rivals, and I was consumed with my own personal hell.
That was the thing about hell: it was on a loop, and there was no escaping.
I thought being stuck as a high school senior more than once was hell.
I was mistaken.
The only time I will admit to being wrong is to prove how much she didn't belong here.
The boys’ locker room wasn't typical. We had the state of the art equipment and funding that would well exceed one season. Boarding school parents weren't afraid to trade in their guilt for donations.
I threw my duffle bag down with force, making Nyx and Austin look at me with so much concern that I wanted to throw up.
“You good?” Austin was a lot like Luna; they both sensed too much with the emotions other people wore. It was unsettling.
Nothing was private in their presence.
“I'm fine, Austin. Let's just focus on the game.”
Nyx was changing into his under armor we wore under our pads when he picked up his head. “Did you feel anything the night of the party? Did you touch her?”
Nyx was always a baseline: calm, collected, secretive. This version of him, who was asking me questions like she was a desperate way out of being stuck, wasn't anyone I knew.
I ignored him until he got himself under control enough to ask me with his balls firmly attached again.
Austin looked towards us, also waiting for an answer. “Well? Is she the one or not?”
I slammed my locker closed behind me, facing both of them again. I tried to loosen my lips and shake off the intensity in my face.
“No, the fucking new girl isn’t gonna save us. Drop it. We have a game.”
I pulled the spandex under armor on and proceeded to put my pads in place when Coach entered the room for his traditional speech meant to hype us all up. To be honest, I stopped listening after we first repeated the year. He recycled his words and fed them back to us.
Nyx was our defensive line. No seriously, he pretty much was the only player paying attention out there.
Jasper was captain, only because he cared and I don’t. He was willing to put in the effort if it benefitted him outside the field, and it did, tenfold.
Austin was our quarterback—out of the way and the least amount of contact if we all did our jobs right.
Beau and Leo, who were together, respectfully cheered us on, even though they preferred a good makeover show (of any kind: people or houses).
The girls came to the games, too, even though they had no real stake in who wins or loses.
On the field, I could see our rivals gearing up to make this the game of the season—all but one, Caellum, who used to go to Arcadia before he escaped and landed at Exeter Academy. He was still forced to repeat his senior year, just like us, except that he found a way around being around us.
Fucking Aquarius.
Cold.
Clever.
Stubborn.
Big on loyalty, which was ironic, because not one bone in his body was loyal.
Our hard stares locked onto each other, and I felt my fingers clench around my helmet tighter. He betrayed the circle, and the fucked up part was we didn't know how he did it.
Cheyanne was convinced he used some kind of black magic to lift the enchantment of the campus when it was weakest.
Now he was free to be himself without the chains, but he'd always fall asleep and wake up in the same senior year. Everyone forgetting the heavy feeling of deja vu that tingled inside them as they redid the year.
Caellum was the only one at Exeter Academy, having no balance in his influence. Without the collective everyone around him, everyone fed off his traits, making the entire academy mirror what he focused on most, his flaws.
Nyx pushed his helmet down and pushed the mouth guard in place, as Austin stood on the other side of me ready to go.
My gaze at Caellum wasn't wavering. I wasn't going to break first. He pressed his gloved hand to his lips and blew us a kiss before putting his helmet on. I felt the anger nearly explode in my chest as my team jogged to the field, waiting for my approval.
I didn’t have to be captain for everyone to need my approval.
All I told the team was to kill them, and anyone not giving everything they had to this game needed to get off my field.
We got into position, and for some idiotic reason, my eyes shifted towards the stands. I swept over people, finding familiar faces quickly, and then there was one I didn't expect to see:
New Girl.
I didn't have time to contemplate her ulterior motives for being here.
Caellum whistled, before calling out, “Come on, pretty boy. You've got some losing to do!”
I felt everything in my body tighten in preparation. My breath was steady, and I was focused in a way I never felt. We weren't losing to the one person who left us.
The game went on forever, a push and pull the whole game, with neither of us having an upper hand.
I was still confident, until I felt a hit taking me down with a hard thud. I clenched my teeth and my guard, absorbing the hit like fuel.
A few seconds later, fingers laced through my helmet. “Haven't you learned by now, Bolton? I never lose. You chose the wrong team.”
I heard the buzzer, and I knew we lost. I didn't bother to get up or fight. We lost, even after leaving every ounce of our motivation on the field.
My fist rose up just to hit the turf with an angry blow, blaming the field for our loss. I let the memory seep in. In my weakened state, it was hard to keep anything out.
I didn't choose the wrong team.
Caellum only told me he was leaving, Halloween night, three years ago.
I knew, and I kept it from the group.
I knew, and I didn't stop him.
In fact, I had to convince myself not to go with him. If I went with him, I'd always be in his shadow. We’d be a broken circle with no way out of this. So I stayed and let him think I betrayed him.
I became King of Arcadia with Caellum gone. No one questioned me; no one even thought about betraying me. Plus, I had the circle.
I was still lying there defeated with my helmet ripped off and pissed-off rage still coursing through my veins when New Girl stood above me.
Great, I forgot she was here. Now she had ammunition.
She offered her hand. “You played really hard. Trust me, I'm originally from Texas. Football is basically religion there.”
I got up without taking her hand. I didn't need her help or her pity. Just as the scowl crept onto my face from my poisoned blood, Caellum appeared.
His timing was impeccable at his worst. When he went to Arcadia, he was known for hearing and seeing everything.
There were no secrets with him. He'd tell you just how wicked he was if you just asked.
“Having New Girl nurse your broken, black heart? That's a new low for you.”
I watched him laugh, eyes roaming over both of us critically, looking for soft spots to prod. He smirked without another word, before slapping her shoulder. I watched the exchange, knowing he felt exactly what everyone else did—the spark radiating off of her.
I slid in
to place almost instinctively, blocking most of her from him.
I knew his demons better than my own. He wasn't dangerous, but cruel and reckless always made the short list.
I don't know what made me protect people from his wrath, maybe the bullshit title of Arcadia King?
Even other schools caught onto the nickname, and at every game, someone twisted it in insults and jabs meant to piss me off.
Knock off pretty boy’s crown.
Show them who’s really king.
Slay the king.
I blame Game of Thrones for people being so comfortable with old English and throwing the word “king” around like a dagger.
Caellum’s hand landed heavy on my shoulder as he leaned in keeping New Girl out of this.
“Your face still doesn't hide anything from me. Don't let me find out you're hiding how to get out of this.”
I shook out of his space, pushing myself up taller and being the asshole I always was. “Guess that fucking scar Nyx gave you doesn't warn people enough to stay away. You left, so get on your damn bus and get off my campus.”
He stepped forward, so did I. I wasn't shying away from him gloating his win in my face along with the circle he abandoned. He wasn't physically tough, not enough to carry his constant need to challenge everyone around him. His team did that for him. Their job was creating clear paths to the goal, keeping the contact of the sport away from him.
I didn't challenge anyone. Why would a king fight a knight?
I was so close I could see his skin glistening from the sweat of the game and his eyes almost burning an ember color. There was a red hue circling his pupils, and his fists clenched as the only parts of him capable of anger, while others were dormant.
I wasn't backing down. Every part of me was pissed off and ready to fight at all times.
Nyx shouted from the sidelines, making Caellum break his focus on me.
“Bolton, get to the damn showers already!”
He knew what he was doing when he shouted our way. He never spoke without thinking. He never actually spoke without it meaning something so much deeper.
I watched him fold his arms, standing firm, until I dropped whatever bullshit was between us.
I made sure I pushed my shoulder into his aggressively, letting the padding of my gear take him off guard. I felt satisfied walking away and shouting, “New Girl!” without looking behind me. My lips were pursed tightly together hoping she would just listen for once, without forcing me to overdose on sarcasm.
When she jogged to catch up to my side, I finally let out an exhale.
Of course she needed to be equal. God forbid she trail behind me like everyone else.
This girl was constant trouble, torture, and now Caellum knew that too.
He wasn't going to let this go; he felt the same spark.
I wanted to banish her from my kingdom, but now I was forced to protect her.
She followed me into the tunnel leading to the locker room. I hadn't realized as I threw my helmet against the cement wall, waiting for it to crack, when she yipped in a way that girls do with loud sounds. So easily shaken. I turned around already pulling off my pads.
“This is the guys’ locker room, New Girl… Is that the reputation you want?”
She leaned against the wall, her Doc Martens pressing into the concrete. “I let Billy kiss me in eighth grade when we lived in Georgia. Gwendolyn didn't approve, so she told the whole school I slept with him. In a week, I was the youngest whore that town had seen. So been there, done that.”
I held my jersey and pads in my hand, completely shirtless and comfortable. Life before this was filled with gods—literally, the most perfect race ever created.
This body I was stuck in was nothing in comparison to the beauty I had seen before. I was a sliver of the perfect I once was. I could tell she was accustomed to this form, human, when her eyes trailed down my abs, and her lips parted only slightly, like I was too much to take in before she forced her eyes down.
“Gwendolyn was a jealous bitch.”
She smiled without any cleverness to go with it, and I saw something I hadn't before. I didn't know how to put it into words as I squinted in her direction, trying to place it.
Common ground?
She was as lonely as I was?
I was finally seeing her, Arianna, instead of the new girl I despised. None of that was real. The sarcasm, the clever smiles, the taste for trouble, and pissing people off on purpose was how she protected herself. Now I wanted to know why.
Why did New Girl need to protect herself?
I didn't pry. I was a lot of things, but greedy wasn't one of them. Not today. We were both wounded from our own losses.
I threw my pads in the bin at the door and walked over to my locker. I left it open, letting the door of my locker cover my gaze towards her. Her eyes took it all in, as she pushed her back against the wall closest to the exit.
“Unless you're offering to shower with me, I'd get out of here.”
I watched her tawny complex turn red with my words, and she shifted almost uncomfortably. She gave me all the clues to figuring her out without knowing it. I kicked off my cleats and stood in front of my locker. Facing Arianna, I came to terms with replacing her nickname with her actual name. New girl didn't seem to fit anymore.
I waited to continue to strip until she safely left the room. The locker room was heavy with hot air reacting to our awkwardness at my own sarcasm.
For a brief moment, I debated if she would have stayed if I simply made a move. Instead, I chose to belittle her like I did everyone else.
Arianna
I tried to ask Luna who the guy was at the game before we left the bathroom together. Kate was busy re-applying her gloss, even though she wasn't trying to allure any boys. She had Austin—a drop dead gorgeous and completely nice boyfriend. I saw him even hold her purse before we came into the bathroom.
Who does that?
He was too nice for Kate. Maybe he was anchored down to her humility buried way down deep, under all the pink.
Luna stayed quiet, like she hadn't heard me, and I waited, like she wasn't avoiding answering me, while I tapped my fingers against the counter, impatiently waiting.
Kate let out a labored, yet annoyed sigh, before her hand dropped from primping herself. “Caellum, okay? Jesus. Nosey much?”
I had nothing to adjust in the mirror. I was comfortable in my jeans, a t-shirt, and boots. Comfortable meant not having to stress, and using setting spray took care of the rest.
“And? That's all? Obviously they have beef.”
She didn't even ask who or wait for clarification when she spun around and jumped up more gracefully than I walked to sit on the counter top.
“You know he's gonna kill you for prying into his business, right?”
I looked at her like I was still waiting for more, and now I was insatiable for the answers.
She actually rolled her eyes at me before she spoke, “Bad blood. It's a real Taylor Swift song. He used to go here, was Bolton’s best friend, and now he's not.”
Luna was finally paying attention only to snub Kate for spilling the beans. I didn't see the big deal, but maybe there was more history than my vagabond life was used to.
I dropped it, not asking anymore. I let it mull over in my mind, fermenting and letting it grow on me.
We headed back into the pizzeria on campus. I knew I was in a whole new world of rich when the boarding school had a pizza place on campus and opened for after game celebrations.
No one was actually celebrating; the boys were recovering.
I slid into the corner booth big enough for all of us. I was sandwiched between Luna and Nyx. My eyes were searching for Bolton, but came up empty.
“Wasting your time, sweetheart. He doesn't come here,” Nyx spat out, in a too-exhausted-for-words kind of way. His Australian accent really made even insults sound sweet.
I watched him pull a nip of vodka out from his jacket pocket and pour i
t into his soda expertly. I was sure no one else even saw him do it. I popped an eyebrow at his actions, wondering too many things to articulate quickly.
He put the empty nip back in his pocket and stirred in the vodka. “New Girl, I can see the judgment.”
I stayed silent, he was just as intense as Bolton, maybe more explosive, and less calculated.
He continued, “It's a Friday night. We lost. Do I really need to make more excuses?”
The two trays of pizza came, and I shifted focus, letting him have his secrets… for now.
Everyone was laughing, and a relaxed tone cascaded over us. That didn't last long.
Bolton’s ex best friend walked into the pizzeria, and the bell chimed at the same time the door moved, warning us all. Leo, someone I haven't had much time with, announced to the group to stay cool. I knew he was only speaking to Nyx, the only hot head here.
I mentally prayed over and over again that he wouldn't come over.
Like all my other prayers, it went unanswered.
I studied his features as he sauntered over to the booth and stopped before us. His features were sharp, almost hard to take in entirely. His jet black hair only reminded me of a dark version of Bolton’s, except his was villainously neat.
No villain ever had messy hair; think about it.
He wasn't much taller than me, and was bulky like he worked out more than his body could handle. He was all American and the average kind of eye candy.
I could see his tricks safely harnessed behind his eyes, ready to attack at all times.
He looked directly at me, ignoring everyone else at the booth. “You're Bolton’s girl, right? Where is he?”
“Excuse me? I'm not his keeper. I'm pretty sure he has a phone.”
It came out without thinking first. I should have denied being his girl first and put sarcasm last. In any instance of feeling threatened, I lash out with very little thought process.
I could hear my dad’s voice swell like the queued up soundtrack in a movie, each action perfectly paired with music.
You have to think before you speak. Count to five and then speak, my Little Archer.
He tried to teach me early, but it was no use. I was ruined by my emotions.
I pushed my chin forward signaling Nyx to slide out of the booth so I could leave. As I stood up to breeze by Bolton’s clear tormentor, Caellum stepped quickly in front of me, making me pause my storm out.
