Saven Deception

by Siobhan Davis

  Jenna scans our messaging from last night up to the point I fled. “Hmm. I see what you mean.”

  My heart deflates further in my chest. A part of me was hoping she’d tell me I overreacted to the whole thing.

  “But here’s the thing,” she adds, facing me. “Things don’t always come across right when they’re written down. Imagine you’d had that conversation via video chat as he’d suggested, then you could have listened to how he said those words and seen the expression on his face as he spoke them, and you would’ve known straightaway whether he meant them or not. Messaging is too impersonal, and it’s too easy to misconstrue things. And I think you confused him with your response.”

  Crunching pain rattles through my brain as I contemplate her words. Jenna speaks a lot of sense and maybe—just maybe—he did mean it and I messed things up with my vague response. God, I’m so clueless at this stuff, and it’s like crossing a minefield blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back. I’m not sure I have what it takes to successfully navigate my way through.

  Frustration thunders through me, and I dig my nails into my leg as a steady stream of curses fly subconsciously out of my mouth. When comprehension dawns, I clamp a hand firmly over my mouth to shut myself up. Jenna stares at my shocked expression and collapses into hysterics. “Stop laughing, this isn’t funny.”

  “The hell it isn’t!” She roars with laughter and tears leak out of her eyes.

  Trying to stay mad is virtually impossible, and soon I’m laughing along with her. “Thanks,” I say when I can speak coherently. “I needed that.”

  “Ah, Sadie. You warm all the dark parts of me, you know that?” She yanks me into an all-enveloping hug, and this time I don’t shy away from the close contact, allowing myself to cherish the burgeoning bond of true friendship. “What are you going to do about Logan?”

  “I guess I should read his messages first.”

  Delving deep, I find courage from somewhere and flip open the screen. The first group of messages are pleas to come back and apologies for whatever he said to upset me. There’s a gap of a few hours and then another group of messages begging me to contact him. The last few are angrier, not that I blame him. The final message was sent forty minutes ago.

  LC: Fine, Sadie, you win. I’m at a total loss. I don’t know what I did to upset you, and you won’t speak to me so I’ve no clue how to fix this. Or if I want to now. You seemed like a nice girl, and I felt a connection, but maybe I picked things up wrong. I’m not going to contact you again. If you want to sort this out, you can message me. Or don’t. Whatever. Logan.

  Well, that’s that. I don’t want to talk to him. But I do! What’s the point? It was never leading anywhere anyway, so I might as well get out now before I get seriously hurt. Love cannot grow without risk, and nothing is worth risking without love. My brain hurts from all my toing and froing, and I wish I could remove it, clean it up, and put it back in minus all this newfound confusion that I’m not overly fond of.

  “So?” Jenna asks.

  She’s been so quiet I’d actually forgotten she was here. My inner coward is all for walking away from this, but Vin’s words from last night come back to me. There’s much I can’t control in my life, but there are certain things I can accept responsibility for. I need to start facing up to things and not shutting everyone out or locking everything up inside.

  I draw a calming breath. “I’m going to message him and tell him the truth.”

  “Atta girl,” Jenna says proudly. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  She is already walking toward the door.

  “Wait up.” I climb off the bed. “I need to talk to you about something else.” I’ve been so engrossed in my own woes that I’d forgotten all about The Hulk. She slouches against the doorjamb as I approach. “How well do you know that guy you were talking to in the kitchen last night?”

  Her expression shows her surprise. “Not well. Last night was the first time I spoke to him. Why?”

  “This is going to sound odd, but I’ve run into him too, and I don’t like him or the vibes he gives off. I don’t think he’s a good guy, Jen. I think you should steer clear of him.”

  Thick lines furrow her brow. “How come? I thought he was charming and super-hot. He was really nice.”

  I arrange my features into a neutral line though I feel like knocking some sense into her. “But what about that incident with Odie? Didn’t you think that was strange?”

  She holds her chin between her thumb and forefinger while she thinks. “Honestly, Sadie? I don’t know what you mean. Odie was a little pissed because I was laughing with Dante, but he’s cool now. We’re cool.”

  Dante, huh? That’s far too nice of a name for a creep like him. Jenna’s words throw me out of sync, and at once, I start questioning myself. Did I make a big deal of the incident without just cause? Besides my innate instinct, which tells me the guy is trouble, I have no concrete evidence to back up my claims.

  And now I’m doubting myself. Wonderful.

  “Maybe I read more into it, but I don’t have a good feeling about the guy. Be careful around him.” I don’t say exactly what I want to say because it would come over all weirdly parental, and I’ve no right to demand stuff like that of her.

  ***

  SO: Logan, I shouldn’t have stormed out last night, and I’m sorry for not replying to your messages sooner. I don’t have much experience with this stuff, and sometimes I overanalyze things and jump to the wrong conclusion. You said I was beautiful, and in the next second you all but took that back. It felt like you were playing me, and I’m not cool with that. So, if you’re genuinely interested in getting to know me, then perhaps we can wipe the slate clean and start over? If not, I’d rather you didn’t contact me anymore. Best, Sadie.

  I’m proud that I had the guts to send a message like that. I’m not expecting to receive the type of reply I desire when an answering ping emits five minutes later.

  LC: Contrary to what you might think, all of this is new to me too. I sincerely meant everything I said, and the last thing I wanted to do was upset you. Can we start over?

  Goddammit, now I’m confused all over again. He seems genuine, but what does he mean this is all new to him? Unless Logan’s been living under a rock, there’s no way that boy is inexperienced in the game of love.

  Pressing my knuckles to my temples, I wish I could go to the gym and release all this frustration, but I’m much too afraid of bumping into Dante to risk returning.

  See? This is why I don’t get involved with boys. All they do is consume you until there’s nothing left of the person you were.

  Tapping out a response to Logan, I suggest meeting at midnight tonight. I’m determined that our four a.m. chats are a thing of the past, because sleep deprivation isn’t helping me keep a clear head at all. The library isn’t that popular at night, so we should still have privacy to talk.

  The rest of the day passes by in predictable normalcy, and I’m grateful for small mercies.

  I’m hanging with Neve, Odie, and Jenna in the living room after dinner when Dante shows up. I shudder uncontrollably. I absolutely loathe the effect he has on me. He literally makes me want to unzip my skin and withdraw into myself.

  He’s hot. The thought pops into my mind, unwanted and entirely unbelievable. Any attractiveness on the outside is more than negated by the ugliness on the inside. I furtively glance sideways, certain someone is whispering nasty untruths in my ear, but the only people positioned anywhere near me are my friends.

  Neve surveys me curiously and I mouth, “What?” She shakes her head dismissively. Jenna is sloped against Odie, and they are half-seated, half-lying on the front end of the couch. They’re immersed in their own little romantic bubble, not paying any attention to anyone or anything in the room.

  Dante stares intrusively at me, and I squirm in my seat. He smirks before switching his attention to Jenna. Shucking out of Odie’s embrace, she saunters toward Dante, her wide grin expanding with
each step. Odie calls after her, but she’s oblivious. Dante drapes his arm around her waist before escorting her swiftly out of the room. I sit ramrod straight on the couch, shock written all over my face.

  I knew it! I wasn’t imagining things, which means Jenna blew me off earlier on purpose. The only logical explanation is she intends to date both guys, but I don’t understand how she has the audacity to be so transparent. It’s more than brazen. Odie’s fists clench and unclench at his side, and his look is murderous.

  “Are you okay?” I slide down the couch alongside him.

  “Am I going crazy or something?” He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “I don’t understand what happened.”

  “That makes two of us. What are you going to do about it?”

  His eyes flare momentarily, and then the fire dies out. “Nothing. Plenty more fish in the sea.” He shoots me a blank look before walking out of the room.

  I glance at Neve, bewilderment written all over my face. She gives me a one-shouldered shrug and buries her head back in her book.

  The more I think about it, the more I conclude the environment down here is messing with all our heads. At least when we reach Thalassic City, we’ll have a vast city to explore and more people to meet, instead of being imprisoned in a bunch of claustrophobic rooms with a butt load of apparent whackos.

  ***

  I arrive before Logan and log into our live chat link. A heady warmth courses through me and I lift my head. Logan’s tall frame is pressed against the window across the way. He tentatively waves and I do the same. My D-pad pings.

  LC: I’m sorry.

  Recalling Jenna’s advice, I look straight at him. Genuine sincerity is evident on his face.

  SO: So am I.

  LC: So, I’m intrigued. What’s with this tarot card obsession?

  I look across the water and shrug shyly. He motions to the screen.

  SO: My grandma was a gifted soothsayer. All the locals went to her for tarot readings. I was fascinated from an early age, and she taught me how to read the cards, although I only do it for myself.

  LC: That sounds really cool. What do the cards say about me?

  I look over into his teasing eyes.

  SO: I don’t know. I haven’t read my cards since I arrived here. My grandma always cautioned against reading them too regularly. Some people obsess over it and won’t do anything without consulting the cards. I tend to only check when there’s something big looming or when something big has happened.

  LC: What do you think the cards would say about me?

  I answer without thinking.

  SO: That you’re a distraction I don’t need.

  LC: Wow. Way to let a guy down gently.

  SO: I don’t expect you to understand, but this opportunity is my only lifeline. I can’t let anything or anyone detract from my goals.

  LC: I understand that more than you realize, and I’d never get in the way.

  Our eyes meet in a serious expression. I’m shocked to see my hope and fear, longing and desperation, mirrored in his gaze. While I don’t understand what’s driving his emotions, one thing is becoming clear. We seem to have more in common than a pure physical attraction.

  ***

  The following morning, I’m in the training room when I get the shock of my life. My dad has sent me a video request for five p.m. today. While Vin had confirmed we were permitted one weekly video chat with the outside world, never in a million lifetimes had I expected to hear from any member of my family.

  Profoundly intrigued, I spend the rest of the day clock-watching until the allocated time arrives.

  “Hello, Sadie,” Dad says as his habitual worn face looks out at me from the screen.

  “Hi, Dad. I wasn’t expecting this.”

  His pained expression wounds me more than I’d like to admit. “No, I don’t expect you were.”

  He pauses, apparently struggling to find the right words. I watch a myriad of emotions wash over his crinkled face. Flecks of pain shimmer in his blue eyes, and tiny hairs rise all over my body.

  He coughs, reclaiming my attention. “I wish I could’ve said all this to you in person, but I left it too late. I’m so sorry, Sadie. None of this was your fault, and I shouldn’t have allowed things to develop as they did. Your mother … she’s just scared. We all were, but you’ve always been you. Only you. Such a sweet girl.”

  I’m horrified when tears start tumbling down his cheeks. I’ve never seen my father cry before.

  “I didn’t know about Thalassic City. Maybe …” He wipes his jacket sleeve across his face. “It’s time I stepped up and acted as the man of this household. It’s long overdue. I wanted to set things right with you first. I hope you can forgive me. For everything. I may not have shown it, or ever said it, but I love you, sweet girl. Always have and always will.”

  CHAPTER 8

  He terminates the call, leaving me a sobbing mess at the desk. I try to reconnect, but they are strict about the one contact rule. I don’t know how I should feel, and the muddled nature of my emotions and thoughts at this precise moment makes it difficult to identify exactly what I’m experiencing.

  Neve kindly helps me back to the dorm. She leaves under protest, but this is definitely one of those times where I need to be by myself.

  He loves me? My heart swells with foreign emotion. How many times have I longed to hear those words, and how often have I been let down? Too many times to count. But he meant it. I heard it in his tone. I saw it written clearly on his face. My father loves me.

  Wow. I can’t process the strength of the emotion developing inside me. I need to hear it again, and again, and again.

  But something was off and I’m worried. There was a finality to his words that I don’t like. I hope he hasn’t done anything stupid. Logging into the scheduler, I submit a request for a Videocon for next week. I can’t leave things like this.

  Although his apology was genuine, the reason for it is less clear. Was it simply an apology for all the ways in which I’ve been wronged? Or something specific? And when he said my mother was scared, what did he mean? I rest my head in my hands, confusion and exasperation getting the better of me. Until I speak to him again, I’ll just have to locate some patience from somewhere.

  The next ten days fly by in a flurry of activity. Logan occupies most of my conscious and unconscious mind. We spend hours chatting in and out of the library. There’s been no more talk of kissing or me being beautiful, and I’m not entirely sure what the nature of our “relationship” is, but I’m trying to enjoy his company and not read too much into it.

  Vin has started to apply subtle pressure, so I dedicate a few hours each day to researching Thalassic City and my study options.

  Jenna flits in and out of my life in between juggling Odie and Dante. I can’t pretend to understand—because I don’t—but they’ve settled into some kind of informal arrangement. She seems happy, so I decide it’s none of my business.

  Neve and I are spending more and more time together, and we’re slowly getting to know one another on a meaningful level. We’re in the library—which Neve has taken to calling “our spot”—both engrossed in a book when a hankering sigh escapes her lips. I throw a questioning look her way.

  “I’d trade places with Juliet in the morning.” There’s a wistful look in her eyes as she flips the final page on Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

  “But they die, and they never got to fully enjoy their love. That’s why it’s so tragic.” Marking my page, I close my book over.

  “They experienced the most exhilarating form of love, and despite the fact it was brief, it’s more than many experience in a lifetime.” A radiant glow lights her up from inside.

  “So, is it better to have epically loved and lost than to nurture a different type of slow-burning love that spans decades?” I pose the question though I’m in need of the answer as much as the next girl.

  “Epically loved and lost,” Neve admits in a heartbeat, pushing blonde bangs off h
er forehead. “Have you ever been in love?”

  “No. You?”

  “Nope.”

  “Seriously?” I’m surprised because Neve is stunningly beautiful and a bullion. The world is her oyster, so I find it bizarre she’s never even believed she was in love, at least one time. “How come?”

  “I’ve never felt anything even close to it. It’s kinda frowned upon in my family.” She whips a hair tie off her wrist and pulls her hair into a messy tail.

  I cock my head to the side. “Relationships or love?”

  Her gaze drifts to the window and she stares at nothing. “Both, unless there’s something tangible in it. My family is …” She pauses, striving to find the right words. “They have powerful connections and set ideas on who we should marry. I don’t get that much of a say.”

  “I don’t understand.” I scoot forward until we’re knee to knee. “I thought all bullions were free to choose?”

  “Um, yes, in theory. But ultimately, my dad will decide who I’ll marry.” She flaunts a weak smile.

  You could knock me over with a feather. I’ve always envied the bullions their freedom to marry and have children, and I never considered there was any downside. I’m not sure which is worse: Being banned from marrying altogether or being forced into marrying someone you don’t love.

  “Are all bullions like that?”

  “Oh.” Her head flips around and she looks confused. “Um, no. Of course not.”

  I can’t decide if she’s being evasive on purpose, but I’m way too invested in this conversation to let it drop. “So, how come your family is?”

  “It’s pretty complicated.” She absentmindedly runs her fingers over a small mole on the outside of her elbow.

  “Try me.” I smile encouragingly.

  “My family has ties to eh … government, and it’s important that we foster strong relationships with other well-connected families. Marrying the kids off to each other is one away of achieving that.”