Hidden (The Scions Book 1)

by Gemma Weir

“Princess, I’m not a fool, and now I’ve got two foxes in the henhouse,” he says pointing to Zeke and Griff. “She isn’t like you.”

  Sobering, I nod. “I know. We’ll keep her safe and I promise we’ll be home by curfew.”

  “Go, have fun, be safe,” Auntie Nikki says and I pull Emmy away before anything more can be said.

  When I glance over my shoulder, Zeke and Griffin are still talking to Uncle Blade. “Looks like we’re going to have bodyguards tonight.”

  “I could always stay home,” Emmy says hopefully.

  “Nu-huh. You’re coming to this party and you’re going to have fun. You’re going to drink and dance and you’re not going to bring a book.”

  “I have the Kindle app on my cell,” she says, bobbing her tongue out at me.

  “You’ll be having so much fun you won’t even think about reading.”

  She flashes me a dubious look as I pull her to where Mom is talking to Auntie Brandi. “Mom, Emmy and I are going back to ours to get ready for the party tonight. See you later.”

  “Okay, honey, have fun. Back by midnight, be safe,” Mom says, waving us off before turning back to her conversation.

  Smiling brightly, I look at my bestie who appears to be considering making a run for it. “Come on,” I coax. “All the guys from school will be there and maybe you could make a connection.”

  “The guys at school think I’m weird,” she says, as I pull her toward the sidewalk.

  “They think I’m a cold-hearted bitch who hates everyone. They only see what you let them see.”

  “Are you saying I’m making myself look weird?” Emmy asks, her lips falling into a frown.

  Stopping, I turn to face her. “No, not at all. I’m saying that except for me, Zeke, and Griffin, you haven’t given anyone the opportunity to really get to know you. All they see is the girl that reads a lot.”

  “You know the exact same sentiment applies to you, right?” She says. “No one at school has any idea who you really are. You hide behind this mean girl façade you’ve created and I know it’s because you think it’s what people expect of you. But if you showed them the Nova that I know, that your family knows, I don’t think you’d be run out of town. I think if you were honest and real, you’d make some honest and real connections too.”

  Dropping her hand, I gawp at her, shocked that she just completely called me on my shit.

  “Don’t look so shocked. Surely I’m not the first person to ever say any of this to you,” Emmy says.

  “Nope, I’ve been saying it for years,” Zeke says, appearing at her side. “I asked Valentine if he wants to party with us.”

  My eyes move without thought to the window under the eaves at the top of the house, and my gaze locks with Valentine’s. His hood is still down, his beautiful face exposed, and I swear he’s looking right at me. I smile, my skin pebbling with goose bumps, but he doesn’t smile back. He just turns and disappears from view.

  A lump of something that feels a lot like disappointment fills my stomach and I quickly drop my eyes from the window, feeling foolish. This is why I act like a bitch to guys, because I don’t want to feel like this. “Come on, let’s go get ready. We can all dissect our personality flaws another day. There’s a bottle of vodka underneath my bed that’s calling my name.”

  “Hell no. Pres is relying on us to keep you safe, so you pair need to behave,” Griff says, striding down the path toward us.

  I laugh, lifting my eyebrows up, taunting him

  “Oh fuck. Uncle Blade’s gonna kill us,” Zeke groans, as he drops his arms across mine and Emmy’s shoulders and we all walk out onto the sidewalk, turning toward our house.

  I can’t help taking a final glance up to Valentine’s window and when my gaze locks with his again, I know he’s watching us.

  Smile.

  Drink.

  Pretend to be enjoying myself.

  I have no idea why I dragged Emmy to this party, because it sucks. Phoebe’s house isn’t small, but it feels tiny filled with this many people. Her parents go out of town a lot, and when they do her older brother Jason gets a keg and we all party. My parents would kill me if I trashed the house every time they took a trip. But either Phoebe hires a cleaning crew each time, or she’s really good at cleaning up after a hundred drunk teenagers, because she’s been having parties at least once a month since freshman year.

  Our group is holding court outside. We commandeered the seats around the sunken firepit as soon as we got here and like always, the kids who want to be popular are hanging out nearby hoping to be invited into the inner circle. The vodka we drank as we got ready is helping my amused smirk stay in place, and at least out here in the yard I can breathe without eating stale air filled with sweat and beer.

  Emmy is sat next to me in the gorgeous white dress she let me dress her in. With her hair styled and the makeup I convinced her to let me apply, she looks absolutely stunning. Not that she doesn’t always look gorgeous. Every guy in the place has noticed her, and both Griff and Zeke have been muttering about Uncle Blade killing them since we got here.

  Brit is sat on my other side, prattling on and on about the first day of school tomorrow and how we’re going to rule the place now that we’re seniors. I stopped listening an hour ago, when she had laughed as she suggested that we haze the new freshmen. I might pretend to be the mean girl, but I’m not actually mean.

  It took me five minutes after we arrived to remember why I should have agreed with Emmy and stayed home. After Zeke mentioned that he asked Valentine to party with us, it’s all I’ve been able to think about and I scan the crowd for the hundredth time. I want his eyes on me again, but at the same time, I don’t. This is the first time Auntie Brandi and Uncle Sleaze have ever had a foster kid who’s the same age as us. The first time that my two worlds have collided.

  Valentine saw me with my family. I can’t be the cold, mean girl around my parents, my mom would whoop my ass. But if Valentine sees who I am at home, then who I am at school, he’s going to know at least one side of me is fake.

  Panic fills me and I take a gulp of my drink, barely holding back a cough when the vodka hits the back of my throat. I feel anxiety start to rise in my chest and my breath catches in my lungs.

  What if he sees who I am?

  What if he tells everyone I’m a fake?

  What if he hates me?

  What if my parents find out?

  What if he sees how messed up I am?

  Faster and faster, the thoughts circle through my brain in a jumbled mess. Tears fill my eyes and I will them away, will them to at least wait until I can hide somewhere that none of my friends can see.

  As real life filters back into my panic-induced spiral, I register the sounds of the people around me. Clambering partygoers fill every inch of the house and a different set of doubts attack me.

  Do they know I’m a freak?

  Can they see I’m about to cry?

  Do they care?

  Do they not care?

  Do they hate me?

  Will they judge me?

  Should I run?

  Should I hide?

  A hand lands on my shoulder and I jump, dropping my cup. It falls to the floor splashing soda colored vodka across the patio and into the fire pit making the flames hiss and sizzle. Someone nearby shouts, but I don’t care who it is. The grip on my shoulder tightens slightly and I turn to find Zeke behind me, his fingers digging into my skin, grounding me.

  “Sis, I need a word,” he says, the concern in his eyes almost pushing my unshed tears free. I don’t know when he moved, because a minute ago he was on the other side of the fire laughing and flirting. I don’t speak, the lump in my throat is too big and I don’t want the people around me to hear the crack I’m sure would be in my voice. So I nod, rising from my seat, ignoring the concerned look on Emmy’s face and follow my brother out of Phoebe’s yard and to his car that’s parked a little ways down the street.

  Neither of us speaks until we’re s
at in the front seats, the car doors firmly shut. “Take a deep breath,” he says, reaching for my hand and squeezing my fingers.

  I do as he says, inhaling raggedly and finally letting the panic-filled tears spill from my eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I say as I cry. “I was fine and then I started thinking about Valentine coming to the party. He’s a part of our family now. I can’t be cold and mean at home. He’s going to know.” The words come from my lips in a rush and even as I say them, I can hear how ridiculous they sound. A fresh wave of tears fall from my eyes and I quickly brush them away.

  “Breathe,” Zeke says soothingly.

  Inhaling deeply, I count to ten then exhale slowly. In and out, in and out, until eventually I feel the panic start to recede and my tense muscles relax one by one.

  “Don’t worry about Valentine. Even if he does see that you’re different at home than you are at school, it doesn’t matter. What can he tell people? ‘Wow, Nova is nice to her family’. It’s not exactly breaking news.”

  Zeke’s words penetrate my anxiety-ridden mind and I realize he’s right. There’s nothing he could say that would be enough to shock people. I might pretend to be cold and hard, but yeah, people at school knowing I love my family is hardly damning gossip. “You’re right,” I concede, my mind clearing the moment my thoughts become rational again.

  “I know,” he says confidently.

  “How did you know I was on the verge of a meltdown?”

  “I’ve seen the look enough the last year to recognize it. No-one else except Emmy and Griffin noticed though; they’re all too self-absorbed to see what’s going on around them. I have no idea why we’re friends with them. I don’t even like most of them.”

  I flinch at Zeke’s description of our friends, or maybe calling them friends might be a stretch. He’s right though. We’re surrounded by people who care so much about themselves they don’t look too closely at anyone else. It’s the perfect camouflage.

  “I’m okay now. We can go back,” I say and Zeke nods, reaching for me and pulling me into an awkward hug across the car.

  “I got you, Sis. You know that. I’ve always got you,” he whispers into my hair, and not for the first time I realize that I’m incredibly lucky that my pain in the ass baby brother is mine.

  When we walk back to the party, I make fresh drinks for us, grab Emmy from her seat and pull her to the makeshift dance floor in the living room. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I let myself drop the act and I dance like no one is watching. I laugh and lose myself in the cheesy music, ignoring the eyes that are on me.

  “It’s eleven thirty, we need to go,” Zeke says leaning in so I can hear him.

  “One more song,” I laugh.

  He holds up one finger and I nod, reaching for Emmy’s hand and throwing our joined fingers into the air. Zeke and Griffin are bouncing along to the music next to us and I laugh at the sight of them jumping around like idiots. I don’t know where the rest of our group is. I don’t even care. I’m sweaty, a little drunk, and smiling; genuinely smiling at a party for the first time in forever.

  When the song finishes, Griff drops his arm across my shoulders and Zeke does the same for Emmy. I don’t release my grip on her fingers as the four of us move to leave, not even bothering to saying goodbye to any of our other friends. As usual, kids move and a path forms for us as we walk toward the door, but just as Griffin and I are about to step through, my skin prickles with awareness. I’m used to people looking at me, but this feels different, and when I glance over my shoulder I know why. Valentine’s angry, cold gaze is staring back at me from the corner of the room.

  The next morning, I pull up to the curb outside Emmy’s house, honk the horn and wait. If I get out of the car either Auntie Nikki or Uncle Blade will keep me talking and we’ll be late for the first day of our senior year. Watching the door, I wait for her to emerge and when she finally does, I lower my window and shout. “Come on, slow poke. If you don’t hurry up, we’re going to miss senior year.”

  Emmy and I have been riding to school together since Mom and Dad got me a car for my sixteenth birthday. She has her own car, but I have to pass her house to get to school, so it’s easier for me to pick her up.

  The twins are starting their freshman year today too, but Dad and Uncle Daisy are dropping them off in the traditional ‘our dad is a badass biker’ routine that we’ve all had to endure. Zeke and Griff are riding together in Zeke’s car, so it’s just me and Emmy.

  “Hey,” I call when she gets close enough. “That outfit is really cute.”

  “Oh, thanks,” she says, glancing down at her clothes. “Mom helped me pick something out. You know, start the year right and all that.”

  “Well, you look hot,” I tell her, as she pulls open the door and climbs in. Her fitted red sleeveless shirt is tied in a knot a couple of inches above her waist and she’s paired it with fitted black denim shorts and bright red converse that look vintage and super cute. Her hair is pinned to the side and curled into soft waves that flow over her shoulders and bounce along her back.

  “You look cute too,” she says, her cheeks tinged pink.

  “Thanks,” I say, glancing down at my oversized cut-off shirt that falls off one shoulder, and my skintight jean shorts that hug my butt and show off how long my legs are. “You all ready for senior year?” I ask, pulling away from the curb and heading down town toward our school.

  “I’m going to be swamped. I’m taking six AP classes, plus I have all my college applications to write essays for,” Emmy says.

  “Do we have any classes together?” I ask, a little panicked.

  “Where’s your schedule?”

  I reach into the back seat and hand her my purse. “It’s in there.”

  I hear the rustling of paper as she pulls it out and then compares it to hers. “We have government Monday and Thursday fifth period and biology second period Tuesday and Friday. Why aren’t you taking any AP classes?”

  “I am. I’m taking AP English.”

  “Oh,” Emmy says, looking down to study the paper again. “Well then, we have that together too, third period.”

  “All the seniors eat together, so I suppose I’ll get to see you at lunch,” I whine.

  Before she has chance to respond, I turn into the school parking lot, driving past the sea of other students’ cars and pulling into the space I’ve been using since I got my car. Zeke’s car is next to mine and the rest of our friends are parked further along the row.

  I actually sort of hate that we all park together like this, right in front of the school. These are by far the best spaces on the lot and they say a lot about our status, but sometimes I wish I could just park at the back, away from all of the prying eyes.

  Emmy sighs audibly and I turn and look at her. “What’s the matter?”

  “Summer went too quick. I’m not ready to deal with all the assholes at our school yet. The only people I’ve seen all break have been you, Zeke, and Griffin; at least until last night, and even then no one spoke to me,” she says, pushing her glasses up her nose and pulling her backpack into her lap.

  “If you came to more than one party all summer you would have seen more people.”

  “I know these are your friends, Nova, but I don’t want to spend time with them. I don’t have anything in common with them. You, Zeke, and Griff are my family, but the rest of the people we hang out with I don’t even like and I know they all feel the same way about me. They tolerate me because you won’t give me up and I tolerate them because I love you enough not to abandon you, even though you have terrible taste in friends.”

  My mouth falls open and I stare at her. She’s right, and yet again she’s knocked me on my ass with how honest and forthright she’s being. “I don’t want to force you to be around people you hate, Em. I knew you didn’t love them, but I never realized I was forcing them on you. I’m so sorry.”

  Emmy’s expression softens
and she smiles at me. “You don’t have to be sorry. I could have said something sooner; I could have found other people to hang out with. But I love you. You’ve been my best friend my entire life and I wouldn’t pick anyone else over hanging out with you.”

  I sit and stare, trying to figure out how to make this better without losing her or stepping away from the group of kids that help hide me. “We don’t have to hang out with them,” I offer.

  “Nova, I don’t want you to stop hanging out with your other friends. Just maybe don’t be mad at me if I sometimes don’t sit with them. I know you don’t understand it, but I’m actually happy with my own company and sometimes I’d rather just be by myself.”

  I nod, but a sick feeling pools in my stomach and I bite at my lip to keep all of my emotions locked inside. Emmy is my only true girlfriend and this role I play is driving her away. I can’t lose her, especially not now. This is our last year together. She’ll be going off to Harvard or Yale or somewhere like that next year and she’ll find new friends, ones who don’t pretend to be someone they’re not. I need her this year. I know we’re family, but I feel like I need to cement our friendship before we split up for college.

  My mind starts to whirl, but I clamp my teeth down on the inside of my cheek and the burning pain and the taste of blood in my mouth distracts me from an imminent meltdown. I’ve had too many episodes too close together recently. Over summer break I only got overwhelmed every now and again, except at parties. But I’ve had two pretty epic ones in as many days.

  I can’t tell my mom. She wanted me to see a shrink when my anxiety flared to life last year and I barely managed to convince her I didn’t need it then. If I tell her that it’s getting worse, she won’t let me get out of it again. If we lived in a big city, maybe I’d go, but our town is too small and the moment I step foot into the doctor’s office everyone in school will know just how crazy I am.

  “You ready?” I ask.

  Concern flashes across her face and she studies me for a minute. “Ready.”

  Opening my car door, I grab my purse and climb out, the hot sun warming my skin. Emmy appears at my side and her hand slides into mine, just like it did when we were little kids and about to do something scary or stupid. Squeezing her fingers lightly, I look at her and flash her a small smile, glad when she smiles back.