All the Little Truths: A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers High School Romance (English Prep Book 3)

by S. J. Sylvis

  That proved my point that something else made her into the callous girl that she was. She pushed people away. She was in control of every relationship she’d ever had. Madeline craved that control. But why? She had shallow relationships with everyone, and I just couldn’t understand why.

  “You should tell your mom,” I finally said, pulling myself out of an internal war of unanswered questions about Madeline. They were dropping like atomic bombs all around me.

  “I can’t,” she answered quickly.

  “You can. You just won’t.”

  Madeline turned around slowly, and I swore I saw the conflict presenting itself right behind her eyes, like she was trying to justify not telling her mom, but we both knew she should. She should have told her right after it happened. She should have told someone.

  My windpipe felt like it was being crushed as I thought about how alone and scared she must have felt afterwards. If it was shortly after Christian broke up with her, she had no one in her corner. But did she ever truly have anyone in her corner? I could guarantee no one knew the real Madeline; they only knew the one on the surface.

  “You can take the bed,” I said, flicking my chin over to it. It was an abrupt shift of whatever the hell she and I were doing at the moment, but I needed it to pass before I said or did something I regretted in the morning.

  She looked at my bed for a second before glancing back at me. “Why are you being so nice to me, Eric? Is it because you feel bad for me?”

  Yes. No.

  I shrugged. “Sure, if that’s what you want to hear. But really, you’re in no position to be asking such things, so why don’t you just accept it and get some sleep while you can.” I was being harsh. I knew I was. But it was the only way I could be without being submissive when it came to her.

  She looked over to the bed again, hesitating. “Where will you sleep?” Her voice was unsure as she stayed rooted in the middle of my floor, swallowed up by my mom’s clothes.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to crawl into the bed after you fall asleep.” Probably not the best idea, considering her situation—or mine, either, if I was being honest. Getting too close to her was a bad, bad idea. I was already toeing the line between hate and love, even if unintentionally.

  Her tiny shoulder lifted. “You can, you know. I’m not afraid of what I can see. Only what I can’t. Hence the lights needing to be on at night.”

  I understood that. “If I get tired enough, sure. But for now, I’d like to sit right here and watch if a certain red Porsche decides to come back.”

  I wish we had security cameras so I could catch a plate to do some digging, but my mother and father both thought a top-notch security system was aimless because we lived in a gated community.

  I heard Madeline sigh.

  I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d rip his arms off his body.

  That fucker better never come back in this neighborhood again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Madeline

  I needed floaties. Or maybe an anchor. I needed something to keep myself from drowning, but to also keep me from floating away.

  A trickle of anticipation danced over my skin as I sat on top of my bed, still in my school uniform. My plaid skirt fell over my thighs as I sat cross-legged, finishing up a chapter in my calculus book. It was nearing dark, the sun setting behind the trees, no longer shining down on Eric’s Range Rover parked in between our houses. I’d noticed he’d been home a lot more often lately. Ever since he found me in his room last weekend, he’d been home each and every night with his blinds open. I wanted to believe it was because he was checking in on me, but that couldn’t be true. Not only did he go back to ignoring me at school, but he also made a point to laugh when Missy, in all her spray-tan-gone-wrong glory, accidentally “tripped” and dumped her entire tray of food on my lap during lunch this week. I couldn’t help but see the irony in that, considering I’d done the same thing to Hayley Smith months ago.

  My first reaction was to shriek while grabbing a handful of her poorly done platinum-blonde hair and banging her face off the table. But then I reminded myself that this was karma, and the only thing I could do was bask in it until it finally fucking stopped.

  The cherry on top, though, was when Hayley and Piper had both come over to help me clean up the mess. People snickered as they walked by, pointing and whispering, but eventually Christian and Ollie grabbed their girlfriends by wrapping their hands around each of their waists and pulled them into the hallway when the bell rang. I shot them both a half smile, barely noticeable to the naked eye, but I was hoping they could sense my gratitude. They owed me nothing. In fact, they should have been the ones dumping their tray on me instead of Missy. I had been a lot meaner to them than I was to her.

  My mom had been going out more and more lately, bringing men home almost every night. She did this whenever my father would call and tell her he was coming home soon. It was as if she used other men to curb her anxiety until he got home. She’d go out and flirt, show her panties to some handsome sleaze, and then bring him home to fuck the stress out of her system.

  My mom and bad choices went hand in hand. It was nothing new.

  As soon as I closed my calculus book, I snuck another peek at Eric’s window. I froze when I saw that his light was on. His blinds were pulled up so I could see directly into his room. The gray computer chair he sat in all night last weekend, while I slept on his bed, was still facing my window. I hadn’t seen him sit in it since, but I found it strange that it was still facing over here, just like I found it strange that his blinds were still open.

  Eric was nothing but perplexing lately. He had ignored me at school for the entire week, but each night, when my mother would arrive home with a new fuck buddy, he’d immediately text me to let me know it wasn’t a certain red Porsche that I’d come to dread. I’d reread the three messages he sent in the last five days over and over again, pretending that he actually cared about my well-being.

  And maybe he did a little. But he also liked to remind me that he hated me and that he owed me nothing. And he was absolutely right. He didn’t owe me a single thing. I just wished I knew why he kept getting all warm and fuzzy on me one second and then ice cold the next. I really had no business worrying about Eric’s feelings, but it was hard not to when my twelve-year-old heart still belonged to him.

  I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ears, looking out the window again. Oh shit. A faint squeal flew from me when I saw him standing there from behind without a shirt on. His back was perfectly sculpted with rippling muscles as he moved his arms up to pull a different one on. I could tell he’d just showered when he’d spun around as his damp hair fell into his eyes. My face grew warm when I started imagining him in a hot and steamy shower, washing his body as water droplets fell over sculpted cheeks. My face was on fire when I felt the tingling in my lower stomach.

  A weird feeling started to slip its way in, taking my desire and attraction and twisting it all up, making me feel uneasy.

  Shortly after the incident, I’d had sex. I quickly wanted to wash away the filth I felt, so I replaced it with a teenage boy who had no issues letting me be in control. It was quick and seamless with absolutely zero feelings involved.

  It didn’t take the nightmares away, though, and it didn’t make me feel any better about wanting something like that with Eric. I knew it was because I wasn’t just feeling an attraction with him. It was more. So much more. And as much as it killed me to admit it, that scared me.

  A faint tapping noise sounded from the window, and I quickly shook my head, allowing my thoughts to scatter. I began to smile when I found Eric staring back at me. He was standing there, fully clothed now—thankfully—holding up a piece of torn notebook paper below his chest with a smirk on his face. It read, Enjoying the view?

  I hurriedly ripped a piece of paper of my own, feeling giddy inside, and hopped off my bed. I grabbed my purple pen and wrote, I don’t know. Are you?

  The rise of
my cheeks felt alien as I held up the torn paper. Eric rolled his gray eyes, and I was pretty sure I could hear his scoff through the window. He shook those dark strands out of his face and walked over to his desk, resting one arm on it as he tore the cap from his marker with his teeth. After he scribbled something else, he popped the cap back on and walked over to the window.

  It read, Where’s your mom? Fucking another rando I take it?

  Eric’s feelings toward my mom hadn't changed a bit. He hated her, and maybe I should have stuck up for her, but she’d made a lot of bad choices. There was no taking back what she’d done. There were no valid excuses.

  Grabbing another piece of paper, I wrote, Vulgar much? and held it up.

  There was a brief moment where I almost scribbled, Where’s your dad? Fucking another blonde? But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The old Madeline was rolling around in her grave, kicking and screaming to be let out, but something held me back. Maybe I truly have changed. Maybe I just wasn’t that girl anymore. Maybe that version of me was gone forever.

  I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Was it okay that I was becoming submissive and holding back the mean, crass comebacks that used to lift me up? Was I suddenly turning nice?

  That wasn’t a very comforting thought, because nice girls got stomped on, and I’d be damned if I got stomped on again.

  Once I glanced at Eric’s window again, after holding up the Vulgar much? note, he was gone.

  The disappointment was like an oncoming train heading right through the window and into my room. I could basically see the steam from the engine as I began to turn around, infuriated with myself that I was actually allowing myself to feel let down over the boy next door who still very well hated me, but then something caught my eye.

  What are you doing, Eric?

  Eric was in his driveway, wearing black joggers and a long-sleeve English Prep shirt pulled up to his forearms, bouncing a basketball with his hands. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him outside playing basketball. It had been years.

  Memories of us that I’d had locked away started to surface, and my heart grew warm. Those were the memories I’d always shied away from because they reminded me of what I’d left behind in my selfishness.

  When the ball stopped bouncing and Eric snapped a smirk in my direction, I bit down on my lip. He raised an eyebrow, flicking his hair off his forehead.

  Does he…?

  He mouthed the words, What are you waiting for?

  I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. That was what I was waiting for. Did he really want me to go down there and play basketball with him? Like we were back in middle school again?

  Do not go down there.

  What if I went down there and he turned around and went inside, only to make me feel like an idiot for believing that he wanted me to play basketball with him? I would not let myself look like a desperate girl with high hopes for a guy who wanted nothing to do with her.

  Eric and I were nothing more than long-lost friends turned into rivals.

  I was his foe.

  And embarrassingly enough, he was my ally.

  We were on opposite sides with very different feelings.

  I gave him another quick glance, ready to shake my head, when he threw me for a complete loop.

  He smiled.

  Eric just smiled at me.

  And it was beautiful. It was a quick glimpse of that twelve-year-old boy who I was happiest with. My phone buzzed as I pulled my dazed gaze away.

  Eric- Stop trying to fool yourself into thinking you have big plans for tonight…get down here, loser.

  I texted back quickly, swatting at the butterflies.

  Me- Or what?

  Why was I flirting with him? Why was I flirting with the guy who told me he was going to ruin my life?

  My resolve fell just as fast as it climbed. He’s also the guy who has been chasing away your nightmares.

  Eric- Or I’ll come and get you.

  The thought excited me. A rush sparked my blood. When was the last time I’d felt this? When was the last time I’d felt so exhilarated by the prospect of a guy? It felt good to be wading in unknown waters. To feel something real. Did Eric hate me? Maybe. But even if he did, I couldn’t deny that he had just ignited a faint amount of happiness in me that I hadn’t felt in a really, really long time.

  I knew it wouldn’t last long, but at least I wasn’t so ruined that I couldn’t feel it again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Eric

  My guard dropped when the sun went down. Every single night, I found myself sitting in my computer chair, inevitably facing Madeline’s house. Even if I'd turn my chair around and pull it up to my desk, I’d somehow swivel back and be left staring at her bright room with the flowing curtains again.

  I kept catching small glimpses of her. Her blonde hair would snag my attention like a spotlight, and I'd sit up a little taller in hopes she’d be having some crazy fit of a nightmare and I’d have an excuse to run over there.

  Usually, when that thought would filter in, I’d have a sobering realization that what I was doing was purely selfish and totally out of character. I didn’t care about many people, especially not her, so to be wrapped up in her shit was a big step off the what-the-fuck-are-you-doing cliff.

  But it seemed no matter how many times I’d told myself she didn’t matter to me, and that she was a callous bitch who cared about no one other than herself, I still found myself revisiting the past, wondering why she had turned against everyone.

  I deserved an Emmy for the acting I’d performed all week at school, pretending that I was back to hating her. Even Hayley and Piper got onto my case when I’d laughed as one of my old hookups “dropped” food all over her lap. But when it was just Madeline and me, at our houses, all alone with only a simple patch of grass in between us, my guard completely vanished.

  I craved to be in her vicinity.

  I forgot why I hated her. I forgot that she left me behind years ago. And I realized that, despite her tears and nightmare-inducing screams, she was probably one of the strongest people I knew.

  Madeline thrived on being independent. She pushed everyone away and still stood tall.

  Then, here I was, waiting for her to grace me with her very presence so we could take a fucking stroll down memory lane together with an old game of one-on-one. Stupid.

  I snapped to attention as I heard the opening and closing of her front door and then again as she walked underneath the moonlight. I ran my gaze down her body, lingering on the tight black leggings she was wearing that no doubt made her ass even rounder. Her long blonde hair fell down in waves over her shoulders, and her lips were glossy, as if she’d put on some lip gloss before coming down.

  “Trying to impress me?” I asked with a smirk, feeling right at home with my teasing.

  “No. Why?” she asked, putting her hands into her hoodie pocket. Her eyes darted away, and I knew right then that I was right.

  I lifted a shoulder, holding the basketball under my arm casually. “You just look like you spent some time getting ready before coming down here.”

  Madeline’s blue eyes sparked, and I felt the jolt. Her little hands graced her hips. “Is that your roundabout way of telling me I look good, Eric?”

  I wasn’t sure I liked the way my name sounded on her lips. Actually, I wasn’t sure I liked the way my dick liked the way my name sounded on her lips.

  “Trust me, Maddie.” I inched an eyebrow up. I ran my gaze down her body again before locking eyes. “You’d know if I thought you looked good.”

  Her mouth opened with an audible gasp.

  I spun around fast, putting my back to her to shoot the basketball like I wasn’t at all affected by her sexy little frame. It was her eyes that did it. I watched them come to life as a shotty remark tumbled out of her mouth, and I liked it. I liked it too much.

  Maybe there were some parts of the bitchy Madeline that I liked. Maybe I’d take a
mixture of the two.

  “You can be a real jerk, Eric. You know that?”

  “Only to you.” I threw the ball her way without allowing my lips to creep into a smirk. I had to give myself props. I was damn good at dissing her when need be.

  Though, on the inside, it was a goddamn war zone of unshed feelings, hidden memories, and lustful thoughts all ambushing me from every fucking angle.

  “Why am I even down here?” She rolled her pretty eyes that glittered right along with the stars above our heads. “Why aren’t you out with your friends? Or at some frat party with college girls? Huh? Is tormenting me really that fun?”

  She was right. I should have been with my friends or at some frat party, but I was no longer welcome at Jesse’s frat house—something about breaking his frat brother’s nose. Whatever.

  Regardless, I knew exactly why I was home on a Friday night, playing one-on-one with Madeline. I just couldn’t admit it aloud.

  “Yes. Tormenting you is that fun. It’s what I live for, actually.”

  She made an annoyed sound, throwing the ball back to me with a little too much force. I caught it fast.

  “I have an idea,” I said, feeling the excitement in my bones. “If you win a game of one-on-one, I promise I’ll stop hating you. I’ll even go as far as friending you at school so everyone else leaves you alone.”

  Not a chance in hell she was winning.

  “And if you win?” Her voice was hesitant, like a tiny mouse trying to beg for its life in front of a lion.

  I looked her dead in the eye. “Then you tell your mom about what happened.”

  Her head dipped, her blonde hair covering her soft features. I barely heard her when she said, “No.”

  “Fine. Then tell your dad,” I countered.

  My hands tightened on the ball when her head snapped up. Her soft features were drawn into sharp lines, showing just how mortified she was at the thought. Interesting. I’d like to know more about this father of hers who only showed up on occasion. I knew all about fucked-up marriages, but it seemed there was a bit of fear lying there.