by S. J. Sylvis
“You’re acting...unlike yourself.”
I rolled my eyes playfully, pulling down my metaphorical mask. “You know I’m clumsy. I drop my books one time, and you automatically think I’m being jumpy. Everything is fine.” I laughed it off.
She eyed me cautiously but let it go. “So, what exactly were you doing again on Saturday when I came by? You never said.”
Quickly remembering what I’d made up in my head to cover myself on Saturday. “Oh, someone from the soup kitchen needed my help. Her dog got out, and she needed someone to watch her kids so she could go find it.” Stupid excuse, but whatever.
Hayley nodded as we walked over to her locker, which of course was only a few down from where the kings of the school were standing. I kept my back to Ollie. “Oh, so did she find her dog?”
I nodded. “Yep, all is well.”
My face was tight with all the fakeness I was forcing out. All I wanted to do was pull Hayley aside and blurt out where I actually was, but this was my thing. Hayley had been through enough bad shit in her life to last several lifetimes. There was absolutely no way in hell I was dragging my best friend into this mess. She needed a break. Hayley was happy and doing well. She was safe, and that wasn’t something that came easily for her.
“That’s good. I want a pet one day.” She sighed, reaching into her locker. “Anyway, do you still want to do a girls’ night this weekend?” She spun around with a cheerful smile after shutting her locker, the color of life bright in her cheeks. “Would it be okay if we did it at Ann’s? I know she’s older than us and has a career and all of that, but she’s kinda cool, and she’d probably love to hang and watch movies all night with us.” She shrugged, looking down at her books for a second, bashfully. “And I think it would make her feel good that I was inviting a friend over for the night. She keeps stressing that her house is now my house and that she is technically no longer my social worker, so…”
I smiled. “Of course, Hayley. I’ve always liked Ann, even when you hated her.”
She laughed, and I followed suit, forgetting for a moment that Ollie was only a few feet away with his back turned to me.
Hayley smiled before looking past my shoulder. “Did you hear that, Christian? Piper and I are having a girls’ night this weekend, so no interruptions.”
“Fuckkk. I forgot. When is it again?”
She rolled her eyes, a smirk on her face. “I don’t know. Saturday?” She looked at me for confirmation.
“Saturday?” Ollie’s casual tone hit my ears, and I froze.
Hayley raised her eyebrows at me. “Is Saturday good for you?”
Then, before I even had a chance to speak, Ollie came into my line of sight. He moved beside Hayley and smirked at me, but it wasn’t playful by any means. His chiseled jaw was set firm as his lip curled upward. His blue eyes squinted, waiting for my answer. Ollie was mad at me, and that didn’t sit well.
I felt my face getting hot. “Yep, that works. I’ll see you at lunch. I have to go to the bathroom.”
I quickly walked past my group of friends and acted casual as I found the door for the bathroom. The second I was inside, my eyes grew blurry. What did I get myself into? I took a deep breath. And why do I even care that Ollie is upset with me? I’m supposed to hate him! Short gasps of air were clawing to get out of my chest, and I tried to do anything but think of the reality of the situation. Take a deep breath, Piper. Stop crying.
“Move.”
My head snapped up, and I was met with blonde hair and a catty expression. Madeline’s perfect, dainty nose was upturned in my direction, and I wanted to lash out. I wanted to smack her so I could put forth all the emotion that was trying to escape into her. Instead, I took another calming breath and squared my shoulders, staring her dead in the eye. A year ago, I would have instantly backed down and moved out of her way. But now? No. Madeline was mean and callous, but I wasn’t afraid of her anymore. I mean, just two nights ago, I was face to face with a guy who said he was basically going to murder my brother, so this was nothing.
Plus, Madeline was a pariah now. Christian made that very clear the second Madeline did him dirty. She had no upper hand. Hayley took her place as queen in the school, and Madeline suffered every day.
“You don’t scare me, Madeline. You move.”
“I should scare you, Piper.”
A laugh was seconds from coming out of my mouth, but Madeline’s expression changed from angry to conniving in three seconds flat, and it had me wavering.
She flipped her long hair behind her shoulder as the first bell rang above our heads. “So, are you switching back and forth between them or...?”
What? My eyebrows folded.
“Which is better? Cole? Or Ollie?”
My heartbeat thumped in my ears. “What?”
The only reason she would say something like that was if she…
“I saw you with them at the races.”
My mouth fell open as the bathroom door swung behind me.
“Piper?” Hayley paused with the door half open, allowing everyone to see into the girl’s bathroom. “Are you—” Hayley paused. “What the hell are you doing, Madeline? Still trying to torment people? Do we need to revisit the conversation we had the last time we were in this bathroom?”
Madeline’s eyes darted for a moment before they landed on Hayley briefly, then she looked at me. One of her mascara-clad eyes closed in a wink before she pushed past me and stood in front of Hayley standing half in front of the door. “I was just complimenting Piper on her taste in men.” She glanced back at me once more before sighing happily. “Toodles, girls.”
Then, she left, and Hayley stared after her, dumbfounded. “What the hell was that about?”
I pulled my books closer to my chest. “Just Madeline being Madeline.” Hayley and I exited the bathroom, walking toward our classes before the tardy bell rang. I had to force myself to take even breaths with every step.
We stopped in front of Hayley’s class, Christian standing by the door, waiting for her. He gave me a tip of his chin and walked inside. I made myself keep my eyes on Hayley and not inside the classroom where I knew Ollie was. “What were you doing? Looking for me?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, Ollie said you looked like you were about to cry, so I came to check on you. You’re okay, right?”
I brushed it off quickly, laughing. “I’m fine! I wasn’t crying.” Lie.
“I didn’t think so, but Ollie was so sure you were crying that he actually bet me. He’s so dumb sometimes.”
I swallowed, inching my way toward my class before I was late. “Why did he say I was crying?”
She shrugged, looking confused. “He made up a stupid excuse, saying that he made you cry with his good looks…that some girls just couldn’t handle them.” She chuckled. “But I could tell he was lying. He seriously thought you were crying.”
I rolled my eyes, pretending I wasn’t angry beyond belief. He knew I was panicking, and he sent her in there for what? So I’d spill and tell her? Or did he send her in there because he was actually concerned that I was upset? Either way, I was mad. I swore, Ollie could make me smile in one breath, and in the next, he could make me so incredibly angry. It was infuriating!
But two could play that game.
Before going into my class, I shouted to Hayley from across the hall, “Tell Ollie I said his looks have nothing on Cole.”
Her face blanched. “Cole? Like, the Cole Christian beat up a few months ago?”
I nodded. “Just tell him…and tell him I said to fuck off while he’s at it.”
Hayley let out a small laugh and shook her head before turning around and walking into her class. Over her shoulder, she shouted, “You two are exhausting.”
She had no idea.
Chapter Ten
Ollie
The color yellow was always meant to be welcoming—bright, happy, all things golden—but it had been my least favorite color for several years now. I scanned the four yellow walls in my parents�
� bedroom as I sat with my back against the door. This room used to be my favorite room in the house. It hadn’t changed at all. After my mom passed, no one dared to enter it, let alone change it. Christian could barely even walk past the door without bending over at the stomach with pain. The large king bed still sat in the middle, untouched. I wasn’t even sure if my dad slept in it when he was home—which wasn’t often—but it looked like it hadn’t been slept on once in the last five years.
It felt like razors were in my throat when I swallowed, looking at my mom’s vanity—the vanity that changed me entirely. My mother’s perfume still sat with the lid beside it, and if I tried hard enough, I bet I could smell her flowery scent. The brush that laid next to it still had her blonde strands running throughout, and her makeup was still spilled all over the place.
My eyes dipped to the now fully closed drawer that ran underneath the top, the one that was ajar a year ago. I still regret the day I pulled it open and started digging.
That moment defined everything in my life after, and it was a moment I had been replaying in my head every single hour on the dot after my argument with Piper.
I’ll tell your secret.
I grew angrier with each passing day. Yesterday, I tried to catch her in a lie in front of Hayley, and I knew I was toying with her, crossing over that invisible line of keeping my mouth shut like she wanted, but fuck, did I want to break her. I wanted to break her down until she told Hayley what was going on, or until she told me everything and let me help her. I was half ready to tell Christian what I’d found a year ago just so Piper couldn’t dangle it over my head and keep me at arm’s length, but I stopped myself at the last second.
She told you to stay out of it.
I knew what it was like wanting people to stay out of your business. It was why I was racing in the first place. I wanted to do my own shit and shut everything and everyone out. Sometimes it made me wonder if that was how my mom felt when she got wrapped up in drugs. Was she trying to escape something? Was she trying to deal with shit on her own instead of relying on my dad?
But he’s not your dad, Ollie.
My head dropped between my knees as I ran my hands through my hair. It was a hard pill to swallow. I’d known for a year now that Daniel Powell wasn’t my father, and yet, every time I’d said it, it cut fucking deep.
I wasn’t a Powell—not by blood, at least—and I struggled with that every single day since I’d found my birth certificate tucked away in my mother’s vanity like it was in hiding.
My father and I got along fine. I mean, he wasn’t home much, so we rarely talked, and Christian and I had pretty much fended for ourselves for the last five years, but my father didn’t act like I was the bastard child that I actually was. He pretty much treated Christian and me the same. He gave us an allotted amount in our bank account each month, checked in with our grades occasionally, and boom, that was the extent of it. He didn’t treat me like shit or favor Christian. He was just Dad. Except he wasn’t my fucking dad.
And I had no idea if he knew that. He wasn’t on my birth certificate. The only name listed was my mother’s. So, where was he when she was giving birth? With Christian? My brother and I were only eleven months apart—Irish twins—and it was truly hard to fathom that my mom went out and got pregnant only two months after Christian was born. It didn’t make any sense.
But what did make sense was when I looked into the mirror or at a picture with Christian and me side by side, we looked nothing alike. We shared the same firm jaw, but that was it. He looked like Dad, and I didn’t.
Since I was young, I’d been hearing how strong the Powell genes were, and yet, I didn’t have a single feature. How could my dad not see that? Did he just chalk it up to me taking after my mom? Or did he know and pretended like he didn’t?
When I’d first found the birth certificate, I knew there was more to my mother than Christian and I thought. And just a few months ago, we learned how our mother truly died. Apparently, there were a lot of buried lies and lurking secrets.
Our mother had an ugly past, one that Christian and I had only touched the tip of.
And maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe my dad knew I wasn't his biological son. Christian probably wouldn't look at me any differently, but would it fuck up the memory of our mother even further? Would he and Dad butt heads again?
A growl escaped my chest as I slowly raised my head.
The funny thing was that even though Piper pretended she didn’t know my secret and acted like she didn’t know who I was that night at the party a year ago, it was comforting that she did know. She grounded me. It felt like I had someone in my corner, someone to share all the little secrets with, but now that she threw it in my face and threatened to tell, I felt more alone than ever.
Part of me didn’t believe she’d tell Christian, knowing very well that it was too personal of a secret to fuck around with, but that was a gamble in itself. Piper was proving she wasn’t who I thought she was.
Yet, I still had my phone pulled out to text Brandon.
The veins on the back of my hand popped as I held my phone tight and typed.
Me: Yeah, I still want the turbo. Tell me when and where and I’ll drop the Charger off.
I paused, swallowing back the anxiety.
Me: And I want to know everything there is to know about this Tank fucker.
I pushed my phone into my jeans as I stood up, giving the vanity one last look, and walked out of my parents’ bedroom like nothing had ever happened.
That was what I did.
I shoved all the secrets down and went about my day like they didn’t even matter.
And maybe they didn’t.
The next day at school, Eric and I pulled up and hopped out of his car with Christian staring at us from across the parking lot. He was clearly confused.
“Where’s your car?” he asked the second I walked up to him, leaning back on his own Charger. A few guys were standing around, shooting the shit, discussing what parties they were going to this weekend, which was pointless because we all knew they’d be at Eric’s, like always.
I shrugged, fixing my navy tie. “Wanted to get some work done. It’s in the shop.”
“What kind of work?”
This was the thing with Christian. We were eleven months apart, but he had this underlying need to act like he owned me. Granted, I’d acted more recklessly than he ever had, partied harder than he had, and had been late more times than I could count, but for the last few months, I’d fixed my shit. Instead of burying myself between English Prep’s finest legs and drowning in booze, I’d started channeling my need for release into something else that allowed me to fly under the radar. I wasn’t as heedless as he liked to think anymore.
Instead of not being interested in anything but partying and having fun and escaping all the pent-up shit inside, I was now calculated in where I threw my aggression.
Christian could back off, and I could still do my own thing without him breathing down my neck.
“Just some tuning, brother. Chill.” I continued fixing my tie so Headmaster Walton wouldn’t have an aneurysm when he saw me walk into school as Christian continued to lean on his Charger and stare at me.
“Why didn’t you ask me to take you to school?”
I sliced my eyes to his. “Why the fifth degree? And you weren’t home when I got up. Still sneakin’ into Hay’s room at night?” I grinned, and he looked away.
“Speak of the devil.” Hayley pulled up in her Charger that Christian and I talked her into getting after she got the money from her father’s will. She refused at first, saying it was too cutesy to get a matching car like her boyfriend, but the Powell brothers could be quite convincing. Plus, after she went 0-60 in three seconds flat, she was a goner. Hayley would love the races.
I chuckled silently. Christian would have a fucking heart attack if Hayley popped up at the races with me. Not because he’d think I liked her like that—Hayley was like a sister to me—but more so
because he was overly protective of her, and the races weren’t exactly the safest place to be. Hayley didn’t need much protection, though, unlike Piper.
My gaze caught her pulling into her spot, and it seemed like everything else faded away. I didn’t hear Hayley as she walked up, talking to Christian before wrapping her arms around his torso. I didn’t hear what Eric had mumbled before he stormed off after locking eyes on Madeline. I had tunnel vision when it came to Piper climbing out of her BMW. She looked tired—her hair thrown in a ponytail on the top of her head, swaying as she walked up to our group. Her arms were wrapped around her tiny frame, and the dark circles under her eyes were a deep purple against her pale, creamy skin.
It had me forgetting that she blackmailed me as an achy feeling settled in my bones.
I continued to watch her as she briefly talked to Hayley and Christian, pretending everything was okay—as if she weren’t living a double life. I hated that I wanted to dig further into it. Not only did I want to know who Jason was, but I wanted to know how the hell it was all related to Tank.
He was a bad guy. A scumbag. He was one-parking-ticket-away-from-going-to-jail bad. After Brandon had met me at the shop to drop off my Charger yesterday, he gave me the rundown.
Tank got kicked out of Oak Hill—the high school that most of the middle class and poor attended—a few years ago, in the middle of his senior year. Since then, he’d been to jail three times for possession of drugs, assault, and petty theft. He had a lengthy record and was—according to Brandon—completely fucking crazy. Brandon reiterated that making a deal with Tank was a lot like making a deal with the devil—he’ll fuck you over if you even blink wrong. He ran with a bad crowd, and if people weren’t afraid of him, that meant they were just as shady.
So, I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out how Piper got mixed in with him. Almost every Friday, she was at Eric’s, unless her parents were in town for what seemed like their monthly check-in. And then on Saturdays, she usually hung out with Hayley or occasionally went to her cousin Andrew’s.