by R Holmes
I’m trying to process the information he just dumped on us. It wasn’t Valentina… Everything I have fucking done to her, and she was innocent this entire time. Guilt hits my gut full force.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
I’ve made a fucking mess I don’t know how the fuck I’ll get out of. How do I fix this shit?
"You gotta give me more than that, Ez,” I tell him. Sebastian and Alec both nod in agreement. This feels fucking off. I get a bad-ass vibe, even more than just Ezra being behind bars. Something is going on.
“It’s got everything to do with my father. There’s so much shit I have to tell you,” he says lowly, barely speaking above a whisper. It’s hard to hear anything on a damn landline. “But, it’ll be soon. I promise.”
“You gonna be okay?” I see through the false bravado he puts on for everyone else. We've been best friends our whole lives. I'm the one person he can't lie to.
"Yeah, dude, it's fine. I'm just happy I don't have to be stuck in Sister Martha's fucking math class." He laughs, and it's genuine. The Ezra I've known since fifth grade. The one who puts everyone before himself, even when the shit he's going through would kill someone who wasn't half as strong. The guy is more fucked-up inside than I am, and that says a lot. We both stem from broken families and somehow formed one together.
"Trust me, the only thing you are missing is Sebastian balls-deep in the teacher," Alec tells him. Sebastian's face turns a bright shade of red before he punches Alec so hard, he falls clean off the chair he's sitting in.
"Chill out you fuckers," I bark.
"I gotta go, my time's up. I'm going to check in as soon as I can. Rhys… see if you can get my piece of shit sperm donor to get me out of here. He won't answer any of my calls or the fucking letter I sent home. Knowing him, he'll let me rot in this bitch before raising a finger to help."
"Already on it. You bleed, I bleed," I say. Our slogan. Lifelong, fucking always. Fuck, our brotherhood is fucked-up without Ezra. He's supposed to be here with us. He's not supposed to be the one who suffers when we all partook in this shit. We knew what we were doing and given the chance, we'd do it again.
"You bleed, I bleed."
Sebastian and Alec chime in and the call ends, leaving us all sitting in tense silence.
"I hate this shit," Sebastian says, leaning back in his chair and running a frustrated hand through his hair. "We can't do shit but sit back and watch him sit in prison while we’re at fucking school, living the fucking life. Senior year. It's our year and it isn't right without Ez."
I nod. He's right. But, what can we do?
"We need to pay another visit to his dad. It's been days and he's made no move to bail him out or pull some strings, fucking nothing."
Alec stands abruptly and leaves us at the table, returning a minute later with a small black thumb drive in his hand.
"I think it's time Daddy Kennedy took us fucking seriously."
"Fuck yes, it is." Sebastian slams his fist down on the table.
“What’s the plan?” I lean further back in my chair, waiting for Alec to speak.
We spend the next hour planning and plotting exactly how we’re going to bring Bradford Kennedy to his knees.
"This is a horrible fucking idea," Sebastian mutters as he swipes the keycard to Bradford Kennedy's building. He's right, and if we get caught, we’re seven different kinds of fucked.
But, like always, it was time to take matters into our own hands. Especially after tonight's conversation with Ezra. While we first planned to show up at Bradford's house and threaten him using more force, Alec thought we should get as much as we can to use when the time comes. We were going to give him a while longer to do the right thing, and when he didn't? He had no fucking idea the havoc we were going to wreak on his life.
Starting with tonight and getting into his building, unnoticed. Thankfully, Alec is closet smart as fuck and a genius when it comes to computers so he was able to disarm the cameras from his fucking phone.
Why he wastes his time playing video games all day, I'll never know. Too much potential.
"Yeah, well, it's the best idea we've got," I whisper as we slide in through the heavy metal doors and I close it shut behind us. The entire building is modern, sleek, and quiet as a fucking church. If you dropped a pin, you'd hear it echo on the other side of the building. Everything is so white and pristine, it's almost the feeling you get when you walk into a hospital. Enough to make me shudder.
"C'mon, it's over here," Alec whispers. We find his office in the back corner, a large sign reading “Kennedy” prominently on the door. Inside, everything is in its place. There are no papers sitting on the desk, nothing but a clean slate of wood and a sole iMac with a black screen, powered off.
"Bash, check the filing cabinet. Look for anything that doesn't seem like it belongs. Names, dates, papers. Alec, see if you can get in the computer, past the firewalls or whatever the shit you usually do."
I'm going to go through the drawers of the desk, searching for anything we can use in our arsenal. My heart's racing in my chest and adrenaline is pumping through my veins. I feel like I could take on the fucking world right now.
I pull the small pick from my pocket and quickly, albeit easily, pick the lock on his drawers and dive in. There are files upon files on clients, but nothing stands out. Nothing out of the ordinary. My eyes scour each and every file name and I take a brief glance inside each one to make sure it's not a dummy file.
"Fuck," Bash whispers from in front of the filing cabinet. He's holding a manila folder in his hand, his flashlight pointed on the papers within. "Come here, hurry." His eyes are wide.
I run over to where he stands, and he hands me the folder. My eyes scan the few sheets of paper inside quickly, and a knot forms in the pit of my stomach. Fuck.
"Goddammit, Rhys, this is worse than we thought. He fucking knew. All this time… he fucking knew what was happening to him. He has everything he could fucking need to put that fucker in jail for the rest of his life in this goddamn folder," Sebastian says, his voice breaking.
He's right. This is exactly what we needed.
"Guys," Alec says from in front of the computer. "Holy fucking shit." We both rush to the computer behind him as he pulls up what looks to be hundreds of emails. "This is… this is fucking huge."
Sebastian was right. This shit goes deeper than any of us ever imagined.
Just as Alec is about to copy everything to a thumb drive, there's a loud noise from the other side of the building.
"Fuck, someone's here. We have to go, now!" Bash whispers. He walks over to the cabinet and shuts it as quietly as possible. He tucks the file into the waistband of his jeans, and ushers us to come on.
"I just need one second to copy the file. Damnit, just one second," Alec hisses.
"No, we have to go now or we're going to fucking jail, come on!"
"Goddammit." Alec shuts the computer down and pushes the chair in. Together we sneak out into the hallway, around to the back of the building, and use the keycard to let us out. We run as fast as we fucking can, and hear the back door of the building bust open just as we're out of view.
"What the fuck are we going to do?" Sebastian cries, lacing his hands behind his head and letting out a pent-up breath of frustration.
"I don't know, but whatever it is, we can't let anyone know we have this shit until we figure out what we're going to do. Tell no one."
They both nod.
We have to get Ezra out of there and figure out what in the actual fuck is going on.
The cream envelope in my hand feels like it weighs a hundred pounds as I clutch it in my shaking fingers. My hand is shaking so hard, I might drop it at any second. Every single moment of my life has led me to this exact moment in time. Standing in the middle of my dorm, wearing an oversized St. A sweatshirt and pajama pants, with bedhead and fresh morning breath, I clutch the one thing that will forever change my life.
A letter made out to me, Valentina Carmich
ael, in big, bold letters. The sender, "Harvard College, Office of Admissions and Financial Aid." The knot in my stomach tightens to the point where I feel like I might vomit before I can even open the envelope which decides my future. What if I don't get in? What happens then? Will I move back home to Los Angeles with Victoria and Dad? Attend USC like they've pushed me to since day one? Follow Victoria as she parades all over the town and at the many charity events she hosts, spend my days by the pool in the country club working a part-time job as a server at night?
Withering away until I'm nothing and my brain is the size of the plastic barbies Victoria is so keen on.
That's it. I'm really going to puke. I clutch my stomach and will myself to suck in a few deep, calming breaths. My hand shakes as I tear open the envelope and pull out the one piece of folded paper inside. I try and hold back the tears as I open it and begin reading.
"Dear Ms. Carmichael,
I am delighted to inform you that the Committee on Admissions has admitted you to the Class of 2025. Please accept my personal congratulations for your outstanding achievements…"
My eyes blur with unshed tears, and soon they're falling from my eyes as I sob into my acceptance letter. Everything I've worked for has brought me here. Over forty-three thousand students from all around the world applied for Harvard last year, and of the roughly four point nine percent accepted… It was me. I clutch the letter to my chest, terrified if I let it go for even a moment it'll be stolen from me. I can't believe I was accepted.
I made it into Harvard.
I dance across the room and grab my phone from my desk, immediately dialing my dad to let him know the news.
After a few rings, he answers, "Hello?"
"Dad, it's Val." I try to keep the excitement under control before I word vomit and scream out the news.
"Oh, hey, dear. How are you?"
"I'm great, Dad, guess what!" I squeal a little, unable to hold it in any longer.
"Listen, honey, I'm right in the middle of an important meeting, can I call back later?" he asks, spearing me straight through the heart with his disregard.
"Sure, but, Dad, listen… Just really qui—"
Before I can finish my sentence, he cuts me off, "Love you, honey. Talk later, bye."
The line disconnects in my ear. Just moments ago was the happiest moment of my entire life and within a two-second phone call, he's managed to completely rob me of this moment. My heart breaks, not only because of my dad's dismissal, but because of the fact that I have no family to share my greatest accomplishment with. I know better than to call Victoria; she'll lecture me on the importance of fitting into my cap and gown and making sure to drink at least a gallon of water a day to keep my face clear of zits.
I let out a strangled sob as I collapse onto the cold floor of my dorm, no longer strong enough to hold in the months of neglect and pain caused by my father. Everything I've been holding in for so long comes spilling out in fat, hot tears that scorch my cheeks as they fall. What's a future at the most prestigious school in the entire country if you have no one to celebrate your victories with? I cry and cry until I'm a weak, salty mess on the floor, and feel no better than I did when I fell to my knees.
My mind drifts to Rhys, and for a moment, I wish he was here. As fucked-up as it is, as completely wrong as it is… I wish he was here now. Even after everything he's done to me, after everything he's put me through… he's the one constant in my life. Whether it’s toxic or not, it’s a constant I crave. Recently, the only thing that has made my heart race inside of my chest, and the only thing that has made me feel alive.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull my phone from my pocket and text him.
Could you come to my dorm?
I stare at the illuminated screen as the bubble of him responding pops up almost immediately. Waiting in anticipation for him to reply, I move from the floor to the bed.
Be there soon.
Simple and to the point. I almost can't believe how easy it was to ask something of him and have him oblige. A few minutes later, he's at my door. Looking as handsome and forbidden as always. Signature black hoodie, dark gray joggers, and a pair of old Vans, burgundy this time instead of black. It's almost ironic that in the short time I've known him, I've noticed and locked away the small things that make Rhys who he is.
His eyes search mine as he sees how puffy and red they are, I'm sure. The mascara I once wore has been wiped from my face by the sleeve of my sweatshirt, and from the outside looking in, I know I must be a complete and total mess, but here I am baring myself for Rhys Blackwood.
"You okay?" he asks, clearly a bit uncomfortable because I look like I got run over by a train. Guys, let alone Rhys, don’t know what to do with a crying female.
I shrug, opening the door wider, gesturing for him to come inside with silence.
He steps over the threshold into my dorm and looks around for a moment. He takes in the posters on my wall showcasing alternative bands from the nineties. I guess my taste in music doesn't match my personality, but if it did, how boring would I be? My love for the nineties started as any normal early teenage rebellion would, except it stayed around when the rebellion period didn't. Kurt Cobain was a legend, and his music was the foundation to alternative music going forward.
"Nirvana? Didn't strike me as the type, little lamb." Rhys grins teasingly. One of the first genuine smiles I've ever seen from him, and it disarms me.
"Yeah, well, there's lots you don't know about me. You just assume." I smile as sarcastically as I possibly can at him. It reminds me he’s still the enemy. He hasn’t been forgiven for all the horrible things he’s done. He simply provides something I can’t find in anyone else. My treasonous body would seek him out in the darkness. A darkness that is only afforded by him.
Sitting down on my bed, I pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around them. For comfort, for the fact that I'm still a blubbering mess on the inside, threatening to break free at any moment. He walks over to the bed and leans back against it, but doesn't climb on with me. Still hesitant of the uncharted affinity that is poised between us.
"You wanna talk about it?"
I think we’re both unsure of how to have a conversation that doesn’t consist of Rhys being domineering. The bigger question, though: do I want to talk about it? No. I don’t want to admit out loud to another person about how my own father doesn’t give a shit about me. I avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but where he sits. I feel stupid calling him over here, but I needed some type of human contact. A fallen angel was as close as I was going to get.
"Complicated."
"Well, complicated is the one thing we're good at. Hit me." He nudges me, demanding my eye contact. I don't say anything for a few moments but pull the crumpled, damp paper from beside me off the bed and shove it at him.
He takes it and unfolds it, eyes scanning until they shoot up and meet mine.
"You got into Harvard?"
I nod.
"Valentina, that's fucking incredible. Congratulations." He gives me a rare smile and it’s nearly blinding. It falls quickly when he sees the fat tears that fall from my eyes.
"What’s wrong?”
Everything spills out of me at once as I cry into the cotton of his dark hoodie. "My father. He's too busy to even bother picking up the phone to call me. Even on my fucking birthday, Rhys, he didn't remember. He still hasn't wished me a happy birthday. He's the first person I called when I opened my acceptance letter. I didn't even get a chance to tell him before he hung up on me." I hiccup. Reflexively, his arms tighten around me. "Another meeting, a new client, same bullshit, different day. He acts as if I'm an inconvenience to his busy schedule. My stepmother is the last person I can call or find any type of, I don't know… comfort in. You witnessed it. She's fake, plastic, and is completely satisfied with using my father's money and pretending to everyone looking in that we're this perfect family. It couldn't be further from the truth, Rhys. We're broken. All of us." I can’t he
lp but sob as the words leave my lips. I feel broken. I feel like no win in the world can erase the ache inside my heart. The pain that has taken hold inside me and grows with every passing day that I become something of inconvenience to the only family I have. "None of it matters. It doesn't matter if there's no one to celebrate those moments with you." I sniffle, wiping my tears away with my sleeve. “It fucking hurts, it hurts so bad I don’t want to feel anymore.” Suddenly, feeling embarrassed, I pull away and wrap my arms around myself. I didn’t mean to unload all of this on him, but it all just tumbled out before I could stop it.
“You know,” I laugh sardonically, “I used to think you were the most fucked-up thing in my life because I refused to let myself believe things had gotten so bad between my family and me. So, in the process of realizing my family dynamic is a complete tragedy, I somehow rationalize this destructive thing between us. And all of this is coming to the surface now, because I'm choosing not to ignore it any longer. To no longer lie to myself and pretend the toxic things in my life are okay. What you've done is not okay, Rhys. You used my body as a weapon against me. Not only did you take away my choice, you blackmailed me with a situation you set up to destroy me. Despite that, I find myself drawn to you. But just because there's this unexplainable pull I feel toward you, does not mean I trust you, Rhys. I need to be able to trust the people in my life to not hurt me.”
I see the regret in his features with the way his brow furrows at my words and the cold, sad look that passes over.
"Hey, look at me." He leans back and grasps my chin, forcing my eyes on him. "Fuck, I don’t know what to say, Valentina. I’m not someone who comforts other people. I’m not good at this shit. I’m fucked-up. I’m the broken one. I… I’m sorry I hurt you. For what it’s worth.”
I’m so shocked my jaw drops. Rhys Blackwood just apologized for his behavior. In his own way, and nothing more, but I never expected to hear those words leave his mouth. It's uncharacteristic for him, maybe my words reach him in a way he doesn't know how to express. It also stirs something inside of me unfamiliar and scary, but truly hits home that Rhys has put me through more than he realizes.