by Gemma Weir
“You did?”
He nods. “Yeah. After my mom and dad…” His voice breaks. “After they died. I didn’t cope that well. I saw a shrink once a week until I was twelve.”
Emmy leans into Griffin’s shoulder and he rests his head against hers.
“I’m not sure Valentine set up the video,” I blurt.
“What?” Both boys shout at the same time.
“That asshole was messing with you for weeks. He fucked things up for you and Henry, caused Brit to lose her shit, then almost got Emmy expelled. This was him, Nova. Say the word and Griff and I are waiting to go kick his ass. He deserves a good beating.” Zeke explodes, his fingers clenching into fists.
“He is an asshole; I’m not saying he isn’t, and yeah, he did some fucked up stuff. But I’m just not sure he did this.”
I look at Emmy and she sighs. “I’m not one hundred percent sure he did it either. In the corridor he was trying to get to Nova. He wasn’t smug or gloating, he was worried and angry. At the time I was so pissed at him, the way he was reacting never occurred to me, but now I’m not so sure. If he set all that up, why not bask in achieving exactly what he planned to achieve? He would have known how much that would hurt her, he would have enjoyed it, but he wasn’t.”
Zeke looks from me to Emmy, to Griffin. “If it wasn’t that asshole, who was it?”
“I don’t know. I asked Valentine that too, but he hasn’t replied to me.”
“You’ve been speaking to that jackass?” Zeke shouts.
I silently curse myself for letting it slip that I’ve been talking to Valentine. I’d meant to keep that to myself, knowing that they wouldn’t approve. “No, not really. He called me and sent me a couple of texts, that’s all.”
“And what the fuck did he want?” Griffin growls.
“Mainly to tell me that the video wasn’t him.” I confess.
“And you believe him.” Emmy says matter of factly.
“I don’t know.”
“We need to go see him,” Zeke says to Griffin. “Away from Nova.”
“Why away from me?” I ask.
“Because you don’t need the asshole near you, he’s done enough to you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“No,” Griffin says angrily. “After all the bullshit he’s done, just no. We’ll keep him away.”
“I’m not going to fall apart again just because I have to sit in the same room as Valentine Miller,” I snap.
“Dad won’t let him in the house,” Zeke snipes.
“He will if I ask him to, and I’m not suggesting you invite him round for pizza and a PlayStation session. I’m saying we get him here and find out what he knows.”
Zeke sighs and rubs at his face. “I don’t know, Nova. I’m not sure I can be in the same room with him without punching him. All the shit he did to you.”
“So punch him,” I say with a shrug. “He deserves it.”
Griffin laughs. “I want to get a hit in; you’re my sister too.”
A giggle escapes from my lips, then another, and the sound snaps the tense atmosphere. “I’ll text him, let’s find out what he knows or figure out if it actually was him.”
The others reluctantly agree, but as I lift my cell to text him again, I can’t help the zing of excitement that rushes through me. I want to see him.
Me: We need to talk.
His reply is almost instantaneous.
Valentine: Okay when?
Me: Now, come to mine.
Valentine: C U in 10.
“He’s going to be here in ten minutes,” I tell everyone.
“Where’s your dad?” Emmy asks, gnawing at her fingernails nervously.
“Upstairs with Mom, I’ll go talk to him.” Jumping up from the couch, I head upstairs and find Mom and Dad in the kitchen. “Hey, guys, I just want to let you know that Valentine is on his way over.”
“Why is that little prick coming here?” Dad growls.
“Because I want to talk to him, or should I say, we want to talk to him.”
“I don’t want him anywhere near you, Princess.”
“I’m not going to have another meltdown, Dad. I feel okay. In fact, I feel better than I have in weeks. I don’t think Valentine is the one responsible for playing that video and I want to find out who is.”
Dad opens his mouth to argue, but Mom places her hand on his arm stopping him. “We trust your judgment, honey, but I’m not happy about him being around you. Even if the video wasn’t him, he’s not exactly innocent.”
“I know that, Mom. I’m not forgiving him.”
“Good. Little asshole,” Dad mumbles under his breath.
“I know, Daddy,” I say, flashing him a smile.
“Brandi doesn’t think he did it either,” Mom says, shocking me.
“She doesn’t?”
“No, she said he was seeing his social worker that morning, so she dropped him at school late, not until after second period had already started.”
“He’s still a little asshole,” Dad growls.
Both Mom and I giggle while Dad curses quietly. When the doorbell rings we all stop and stare. “I’ll let him in,” I say into the air, not taking my eyes off the door.
“If you need me just shout and I’ll come down and beat the shit out of the little bastard,” Dad says sounding hopeful.
Filled with a rush of so much love for him, I spin around, run to him and kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.”
I walk toward the door, butterflies leaping to life in my belly. My fingers are shaking a little as I reach out and take the handle, twisting it and pulling the door open. Then my heart leaps in my chest when I lock eyes with Valentine.
For a long moment neither of us speaks. I can’t look away, mesmerized by the boy in front of me. He seems as consumed as I am; his gaze alight with some emotion that I can’t quite recognize but that feels familiar all at the same time.
“Come in,” I say quietly, stepping back to make room for him.
“Nova.”
The sound of my name on his lips makes my stomach jolt and my breath hitch. My arms wrap around my waist and I’m not sure if it’s to stop myself for reaching for him or to hold myself together.
I want to touch him. It’s more than a need, it’s a compulsion, and although I know I shouldn’t want to be anywhere near him, I just don’t seem to be able to help myself. This guy isn’t nice or good, he’s cruel and hard, yet I seem to be addicted.
I close the door behind him and he gestures for me to go ahead, just like he did the very first day we met. I lead the way down to the basement, the atmosphere thickening the moment we step into the room and I feel, rather than see, the way Valentine stiffens when he sees the others.
Zeke’s scowl is so black I can feel the animosity rolling off him in waves. But Valentine doesn’t cower under all of the tension, instead he steps forward. “Go ahead, I deserve it.”
Zeke doesn’t falter, he steps forward and punches Valentine straight in the face. Valentine stumbles to the side, shaking his head as he rights himself, but Griffin doesn’t give him a moment to recover before he hits him too. This time Valentine falls, his ass bouncing off the floor. He quickly stands, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand as he moves back in front of my brother and my friend, ready to take whatever else they have for him.
“Enough,” I cry, rushing to stand between my tormenter and my brothers.
Valentine’s warm fingers curl around my hip and he gently moves me to the side. “It’s okay, Princess. I deserve it and much worse. I’ll take whatever’s coming my way.”
“No, that’s not why we asked you to come.”
Zeke scoffs and I scowl at him. “It’s not why I wanted you to come.”
“Do your worst,” Valentine says, but he’s not looking at me, his words are directed to Zeke and Griff. “I’m not going to fight back.”
“No,” I cry again, slapping my palms into Valentine’s chest and pushing him backwar
d. “Stop. Go sit down. I wanted to talk, not watch my brothers kick the shit out of you.”
Valentine’s sorrowful eyes drop to me and he nods, stepping back and sitting down in the furthest couch seat. “What did you want to ask me?”
I glare at the boys until they sit as well, dropping down onto the coffee table as Emmy and I take the other end of the couch to Valentine.
“You still saying the video wasn’t you?” Zeke asks.
“It wasn’t.”
“What about everything else: you ruining her date, destroying her friendship, blackmailing her into dating. You saying that wasn’t you either?”
“No, all the other stuff was me, but the video, I swear that’s not my MO.”
Valentine looks into my eyes as he speaks, his gaze begging me to believe him.
“So you’ll bully a girl, manipulate her, use her family and friends as collateral, but you’re too honorable to humiliate her in front of the whole school,” Griffin scoffs.
“I’m not making excuses, I’m fucked-up and all that stuff I did, that was messed up. But I did not record or play that video. Everything I did pulled Nova toward me, why the fuck would I do something to push her away?” Valentine says.
I watch him and with every word out of his mouth I believe him a little more. This is probably all part of his game. I’m probably setting myself up for even more heartache, or a full-blown psychotic breakdown. But I want to believe him, I think I do believe him, and I have no idea what to do with that.
“Who do you think it was?” I ask, shocking myself with how strong my voice sounds when all I feel is weak.
He turns his stormy depths on me and I swallow back the urge to move into his arms. “I don’t know. Who was around the day the video was recorded?”
“No one,” Zeke snaps. “We were waiting until the corridor cleared to talk.”
“Could it have been one of the girls you argued with that day?” Emmy asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. Zeke told everyone to leave and we watched them go, but I suppose they could have come back.”
“This was a powerplay. There were mumbles of discontent after you all left the other day, but whoever did this is going to make a run for top tier,” Valentine says, wiping at his nose again, the blood still dripping from it.
“Who would be so desperate to be popular that they’d go to that length?” I ask, genuinely curious.
Valentine laughs and all four of us stare at him.
“Are you serious?” He asks. “You guys are so used to being popular that you have no idea how it is to be on the outside looking in. If you’re looking for names of kids who’d like to de-throne you all, then I think you’ll need a hell of a lot of paper.”
Zeke’s scoff is dismissive. “Yeah, but who’d want to hurt Nova?”
Valentine laughs again, shaking his head. “Basically, every girl in school except for Emmy. Princess isn’t exactly well liked.”
We all gape at him. I mean, I’m not unaware that girls can be a little jealous, but the idea that any of them would want to see me hurt, humiliated, is a little hard to take.
“This can’t be a shock. Nova walks around with her nose in the air like the queen of fucking England, acting like her shit don’t stink and everyone else is so far below her they’re not worth her time.” Valentine says, his tone incredulous, like he finds it absurd that we don’t know this already.
“Hey,” Griffin growls.
Valentine lifts his hands into the air in a consolatory gesture. “It took me a while, but I know that’s not how she is.” He looks straight at me as he speaks and a flutter of butterflies bursts to life in my stomach. “But that’s what everyone who doesn’t actually know her thinks.”
He gestures to Zeke and Griffin. “You guys are hometown heroes, on the football team. The ladies love you, so you get cut more slack. Emmy’s got her head stuck in a book, she’s too distracted to offend too many people.” He looks to me again. “But you.” He pauses. “You’re beautiful, but you’re distant, controlled to the point that you seem shallow. You keep to your group, only ever speaking to the other Scions and a few select others. You look at everyone like they’re not good enough for you to deign to speak to.”
“Scions?” Emmy asks.
He laughs dryly. “That’s what you guys are known as, the Scions, the Sinners descendants. You’re fucking royalty and you don’t even know it.”
I look at my brother and friends. I knew we were popular, envied, but not to this extent. I knew girls disliked me, but for them to hate me this much. I’ve been so busy perfecting my disinterested mask, that I’ve missed what’s been going on around me.
“Huh,” Griffin says and for some reason I start to giggle. The sound is loud and wild and kind of ridiculous, but I can’t stop. The others join in and then the four of us are giggling as Valentine watches us, his face confused and bewildered.
“They call us the Scions.” Zeke says between laughs. “That’s absolutely fucking priceless.”
It takes far too long for our giggles to subside, and by the time we do, Valentine has relaxed back against the couch, some of the tension gone from him. “When we get to school on Monday…”
“We’re not going to school on Monday,” Zeke says.
“What?” Valentine cries.
“Nova’s not going, so neither are we.” Griffin says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and my heart swells for him.
Valentine’s face falls and I think he almost looks disappointed. Maybe he was hoping to start up my torment again; school was where he got the most opportunity to torture me.
“Whoever did this will out themselves if they think you’re not coming back,” he finally says.
“Unless it was you and everything you’ve said today is just bullshit to make us think it was someone else.” Zeke snaps.
“I get why you don’t believe me. I probably wouldn’t believe me either; but I’m going to figure out who it was and prove that I might be an asshole, but I’m not that much of an asshole.”
He stands, shoving his hands in his pockets and sudden panic swells in my throat. I don’t want him to go. The realization surprises me. We had literally a handful of days where we were pretending to be a couple and most of that was fake; but some of it felt real, some of it I wanted to be real, and now he’s just leaving. Even if he does figure out who set-up that video, can I forgive him?
I don’t know. I wish it were as simple as just saying it’s okay and letting him off for his asshole ways. But he wasn’t just a dick to me, his behavior was premeditated, planned even. He knew exactly what he was doing when he threatened me, when he threatened my family, and I’m not sure that’s something I can move past, even if I want to.
I watch as he moves to the door, then I’m out of my seat and following him before I even decide I have more to say. We don’t speak as we climb the stairs, and push into the kitchen, avoiding my parents’ glares from the family room. I follow him as he pushes open the front door and steps outside.
When I pull the door closed behind me, he turns and looks at me. My pulse is beating in my throat and a wave of anxious nausea rises. I expect the familiar surge of noise to assault my thoughts, but then I remember that around this boy my mind quiets and all I’m capable of thinking about is him.
He takes a step toward me and lifts his hand as if he’s going to reach for me. My body arches toward him, but I force myself to step back, so his hand only touches air. The flash of hope that had appeared in his eyes disappears with my rejection.
“Don’t look like that,” I say.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re disappointed that I don’t want you to touch me.”
He sighs, rubbing at his hair with his fingers. “I am disappointed,” he says, so quietly I can barely hear him.
“What?”
His eyes fall to the floor, but I hear him this time when he speaks. “I want to touch you, Princess.”
“Why
? I’m not going to let you blackmail me again. Everyone knows what you did, you have no collateral anymore.”
“Shit,” he hisses. “That’s not what I want. I never should have…” His words trail off and instead he lifts his head and his gaze locks with mine. “You reminded me of someone. It’s no excuse, but that’s all I’ve got. I fucked with you because I wanted you, but I wanted to call the shots. I need to call the shots, to be the one in control.”
“You wanted me?” I ask incredulous. “You bullied me and manipulated me because you wanted me?”
He nods sadly.
Righteous anger surges to life and I shove both of my palms into his chest. “That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard in my life, Valentine. You wanted me, so you were mean to me. You scared the shit out of me and it was because you have issues with relationships.”
His mouth has fallen open, but he’s not speaking, so I continue to rant.
“We all have issues, you asshole. I mean, fuck, look at me. I had a meltdown in front of the entire fucking school. I’m seeing a shrink every fucking day. You think having issues gives you an excuse to be a dick? Well, newsflash, it doesn’t.”
This time when I take a breath, he opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off, shoving his chest again, this time making him stumble back apace. “Oh my god, if you’d have just grown a pair of balls and asked me out before you decided to bully me, I’d have said yes. We could have dealt with your shit together. Have you even apologized? Do you even feel sorry?” I shout.
He steps toward me again and this time I let him. His fingers reach out and cup my cheek, his eyes imploring me to listen to him, to believe him. “I’m sorry, Princess. I’m so fucking sorry. That last day at school I was coming to find you, to apologize, but then there was the pep rally and the video. Can you?” he pauses. “Do you think you can? Can you forgive me?”
His eyes, his voice, are so earnest that I almost acquiesce, almost.
“No,” I scream, lifting my knee up and nailing him in the dick so hard he sinks to the floor with a pained cry.
I don’t look back at him. I just turn, open the door and step inside, slamming it behind me and leaving the stupid, beautiful, boy outside.
