There are a few things no one wants to imagine.
Your parents having sex.
Your pet’s death.
The end of the world.
Kim crying in Aiden’s embrace is one of the things I never wanted to imagine.
My best friend is seeking comfort in the one person who’s been actively ruining my life.
A sense of betrayal hits the bottom of my stomach and shoots straight to my chest.
The logical part of me recognises this as Aiden’s form of revenge. He knows that Kim is the only one I have in RES and he’s using that against me.
That part also knows that he’s an opportunistic psycho.
But I can’t suppress that other part. It’s tiny and barely noticeable, but it’s there.
The anger. The bitterness.
For what, I don’t know.
Xander storms in their direction, a fist clenching at his side.
He might be nicknamed War, but he’s not violent. Xander Knight is the type who kills you with kindness and with that dimpled smile.
Playful, albeit hateful.
This might as well be the first time I see him exhibit any sign of violence.
The hall is filled with countless onlookers – including the president of the school’s photography club who’s taking pictures of Kim in Aiden’s embrace.
Whatever happens now will be broadcasted all over RES in a matter of hours.
Wait.
Is this what Aiden wants? He planned this entire show, didn’t he?
Xander stops in front of both of them. His face is stone cold and his rigid shoulders strain against the uniform’s jacket.
His glare falls on Aiden’s hand around Kim’s back.
I find myself glaring at it, too.
I want to break that hand.
I want to burn it and feed it to dogs.
Neither Aiden nor Xander say a word. They stare at each other, having a conversation without words.
Conquest and War complement each other, but right now, they look on the verge of destroying one another.
Xander looks two seconds away from blowing up while Aiden wears that infuriating poker face.
Everyone else falls silent, barely breathing as if they’re waiting for a bomb to drop.
Xander hooks his fingers in Kim’s jacket and yanks her back. Her teary eyes widen when she meets Xander’s murderous gaze.
I run towards her, but before I reach them, Xander lets her go and she sprints in the opposite direction.
I should’ve followed her. Instead, I stop in front of Aiden. He’s watching me with keen interest even though Xander is almost throwing daggers into his face.
Aiden leans in to whisper so only I can hear him, “I’m still waiting for you to show me the mark.”
“You did all of this for that?” I hiss.
Poker face.
“I don’t even have words for you,” I whisper-yell.
“Say no, sweetheart.” His hot breaths send shivers along my skin. “I dare you.”
“After school,” I deadpan. “Meet me after school.”
Aiden raises an eyebrow as if wondering where I want to go with this. I don’t know either, but I need to stop him somehow.
From here to then, I’ll figure something out.
I leave him and a tense Xander.
Cole and Ronan, who missed the show, saunter out of the cafeteria.
“I’m telling you, Nash,” Ronan speaks animatedly to a calm Cole. “I’m having those bunny cake hookers for my birthday.”
Cole raises an eyebrow. “I thought that was last year’s fantasy?”
“Captain Levi killed my vibe last year.” Ronan hits his chest, laughing with mischief. “He won’t stop me this year.”
“Well, I’m your captain this year and I’m telling you that there won’t be any hookers.”
“Mais non!” Ronan’s face falls with dramatic disdain. “I thought we were friends, fucker.”
“The jury is still out on that.”
“That’s it. You’re crossed from my friends’ list. Best of luck finding where to party because I’m banning you from my house and…”
Their chatter dies away as they reach the other two.
The reason I focused on their conversation was to distract myself from the unwanted attention at my back.
And it’s not from the gawking students.
No.
The back of my neck prickles and goosebumps cover my skin due to that annoying awareness.
That unbreakable connection.
It’s like he’s invading every part of me and engraving himself under my skin.
I find Kim hiding beneath the staircase in the corner. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen, and her hands shake as she grips her backpack tighter.
Her hair is in disarray, the mint-coloured strands appear like a lab experiment gone wrong.
“Kim…?” I approach her slowly like she’s an injured animal.
A part of me wants to shout at her and demand why she let Aiden hug her.
It’s like I don’t know her after she returned from her summer camp. Kim didn’t only change physically, it’s like she’s been building a wall around her.
My chest aches. She’s slipping from between my fingers and I don’t know how to keep her or talk to her.
Her dark green eyes meet mine. They’re filled with so many emotions, but the most prominent of all is sorrow.
Deep sorrow.
She throws herself at me, and I can’t help but wrap my arms around her. A sob tears from her throat as she buries her face in my chest.
I feel like a horrible friend for not detecting her breaking point and not being there for her.
This is probably why she cried in Aiden’s embrace. She only wanted comfort.
Like a shark to the blood, Aiden must’ve smelled it and stepped in like a white knight.
If he planned to rattle me by using her, then it worked.
“Kim… you’re my best friend and I love you, but you have to tell me what’s going on.”
She steps back and wipes her eyes with the heel of her palms. “Have you ever wondered if you could be the villain in someone’s story?”
“The villain? You? You’re the kindest person I know.” I laugh but she isn’t laughing along.
“Sometimes villains look so innocent, Ellie.” Her gaze is lost in the distance. “Actual villains don’t know they’re villains because they think everything they do is right.”
“What do you mean?”
“I did something unforgivable and I’m paying for it.” She releases a strangled breath. “I just have to find a way to survive this year.”
“Kim.” I clutch her shoulders. “You did nothing wrong, okay? Don’t believe whatever rubbish Aiden told you. They’re the bullies, not you.”
“Should we egg their cars?” She smiles through her tears. “Better idea, we can steal their jerseys or do some voodoo at the pitch so they’d lose their upcoming game.”
I mirror her smile, feeling loose now that she is. “That’ll bring me down to their level and I refuse to stoop so low.”
“Ugh, you’re like an old lady.” She jokes. “Stop being a mature bitch.”
“I’d rather be mature instead of a bully.”
“You know…” she trails off, meeting my gaze. “Aiden wasn’t always like this.”
“Nope. Not hearing it. I don’t care what he was like.”
That rule about not attempting to understand bullies? I take it to heart.
“Maybe you should care, Ellie. Don’t you ever wonder why he picked you? Why does he never bother anyone but you?”
“So what do you suggest? I dig around his life? Find his traumatic past and fix him because he’s such a good person on the inside with a heart of gold?” I sigh. “That only happens in your romance novels and Korean soap operas, Kim.”
“Rude!” She hits my arm. “Don’t go insulting my romance novels and for the thousandth time, they’re called K-dramas.”
“Yeah, sure. K-dramas.”
“Exactly.” She feigns a curtsy. “So tell me, did something happen with King?”
“Why would you say that?”
“You seem more aggressive about him than usual. I mean, you just said an entire paragraph about him when you used to refuse to even say his name.”
Something in my chest shrinks. I want to tell Kim all about yesterday, but I’m such a coward.
I don’t want Kim to judge me for being weak. She always calls me strong and hardened, but I crumbled with a single push yesterday. I’m ashamed to even look her in the eyes, let alone tell her what happened.
“I’m just angry that he hugged you.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? He’s being his manipulative self.”
“How do you know that when you refuse to get to know him?”
I purse my lips.
“Come on, Ellie, don’t they tell you in your Chinese war books to keep your enemies closer than your friends? You can’t defeat him if you know nothing about him.”
I want to protest, but she’s right. I know nothing about Aiden and that puts me at a disadvantage.
Whenever Kim offered to tell me what she knows about him from the years they grew up together, I always shot her attempts down.
Aiden is that itch that makes me all uncomfortable and aware. The mere mention of his name smashes my mood and pulls at my sanity strings.
I did everything to erase him, but the king can’t be erased, can he? Even if he’s not there, his name floats all over RES. Hell, even at home, Aunt and Uncle always talk about King Enterprises.
He’s like a ghost haunting me wherever I go.
Maybe I’ve been looking at things wrong. Maybe erasing him isn’t the solution.
If I choose to get to know him, it’s not to understand him. It’s only a tactic so I’d know how to counter him.
“You know Xander,” I tell Kim. “It did you nothing, though.”
“Knew Xander. Past tense. He’s been a stranger for years.” She releases a pained sigh. “Besides, I don’t intend to fight him. You, on the other hand, seem bent on challenging King.”
“I’m only defending myself and…” I clutch her hand, my throat suddenly dry. “Our friendship. I hate that he’s getting between us, Kim.”
“My relationship with King isn’t like that.”
Relationship?
Before I can question her, the last class’s hour dings.
“Your track training,” Kim says.
I give her a quick hug. “I’ll see you later?”
She doesn’t take any sports classes.
A grin breaks on her face. “We’ll binge Lucifer?”
“Absolutely.”
In the locker room, I finish changing my clothes in record time before the other girls arrive.
I’m always the first or the last and usually in the far corner so none of them catches a glimpse of my scar.
A scar that’s now surrounded by hickeys.
I wait in the hallway for Coach. Some of the girls are chatting amongst each other.
Since the first day when Aiden deemed me as an outcast, the track team doesn’t really like me.
I remain in my zone and they stay in theirs.
I retrieve my phone and open social media.
It’s only to know what I’m up against, I tell myself.
Nothing more.
I find Aiden_King on Instagram only because he’s been following me for about a year. I never thought much of it at the time and I always ignored the itch to go through his profile.
He has a few hundreds of thousands followers. Hundreds of freaking thousands. Geez. It’s not like he’s a celebrity or something.
His caption is Go Elites.
His feed is filled with pictures of the game. He has full shots of the entire team. Most of his pictures are with Elites’ forward line. Xander, Cole, and Ronan.
He has pics in parties while they drown alcohol. In other pictures, they have girls squeezed between them.
In older pictures, they have Levi King with them. Aiden’s older cousin and Elites’ previous captain and a current player for Arsenal. I know him because I’ve been following him so closely since the beginning of this season.
He added so much balance to Arsenal’s midfield.
At the end of last year, Levi led Elites to win the schools’ championship. Aiden commemorated the moment with a picture of the forward line carrying Levi on their shoulders. A brunette stands beside Aiden laughing so happily and genuinely.
Even Aiden appears… happy? No. Not happy. More like euphoric.
It must be some sort of a power, right? Even through his Instagram, he shows that perfect golden boy and star image.
It’s easy for the world to believe he’s living the best life and loving it.
The more I scroll, the more it feels like a mask. A method to hide something. What, I don’t know.
Then, a break of pattern catches my attention. Now and then, between rows of happy go lucky pictures, he’d post a black and white shot that doesn’t have his face on it. One has his dark silhouette from behind. Another shows a ball with his name on it. A few others have the chessboard.
He doesn’t have captions on those pictures, and if he does, they’re short and strange.
Mood.
Urges.
Long Live the Queen.
Play the player, not the game.
Stop & Stare.
Ruin before you’re ruined.
I find myself hunting for every picture of that type. Unlike the other pictures, these seem like a true window to Aiden.
He posted the last black and white picture last night. It’s a shot of a glass chessboard. Right in the middle, the black king piece stands tall while the white queen falls at his feet.
The caption is, Sick.
All the commenters – mostly females – gush and wish him to get better soon.
I don’t think he meant sick in the physical term. He’s screwed up in the head as I told him.
As I told him?
I shake my head. That can’t be true.
“Come on, Girls. Go! Go! Go!”
Coach Nessrine’s voice startles me. I close the phone, throw it in my bag and head out to practice.
The thing I hate the most about track practice in RES is that we run around the football pitch where the football team is practising.
Nope. I won’t let them ruin running for me.
Coach gives us instructions on today’s practice. As I stretch, my gaze drifts to the pitch.
I find him without even trying to. Being hyper-aware of him makes him stand out of the crowd even if I don’t want him to.
Aiden wears the royal blue jersey and shorts like he’s some model. The uniform sticks to his body like a second skin outlining his developed chest and his toned thighs and legs. He calls for the ball and when it reaches him, his eyes spark with that challenging streak. He doesn’t take long to cut through the defence.
Conquest.
He stops at nothing to get to the goal.
I hate the bastard, but with his level of talent, he can be scouted into one of the Premier League’s top teams. That is if he wasn’t already. Maybe, like his cousin, RES won’t allow him to leave until he graduates.
Elites are divided into two teams, playing against each other. Cole and Aiden are on the team who wears the blue uniform. Xander and Ronan are on the team with neon T-shirts.
Aiden and Xander are the team’s strikers, but now, Xander is playing defence. A position he doesn’t usually play.
What? I might have been listening when Kim told me about the home games she watched last year.
Aiden goes for the ball, leaving a few of his opponents behind. Just when he’s gaining momentum towards the net, Xander tackles him with brute force. Aiden hits the ground with a thud.
A few gasps escape from the girls around me. Even our coach stops and stares.
The audience who gathered to watch the practice fall silent, their mouths hanging open.
That’s the effect Aiden has on people. Even though RES’s known for academics, they’ve been obsessed with football these past few years. They’re dreaming about another championship after the one last year.
Xander doesn’t even reach down to help Aiden. Cole and Ronan do. Coach Larson, a middle-aged man with a bald head and bushy brows, hits Xander with a paper bat on his shoulder.
If he’s affected, he doesn’t show it. All he does is cut a poker-faced Aiden a deadly glare.
“Wow. Knight is tense,” one of the girls whispers from behind me.
“I know, right?” Another replies. “He’s like out for blood.”
So I’m not the only one who noticed that.
It’s the first time I’ve seen Aiden and Xander at each other’s throat.
The captain, Cole, and the coach speak to Xander on the sidelines.
Judging from Coach Larson’s reddening cheeks, he doesn’t look so happy.
I snort. Of course, he wouldn’t be. I’m sure he’s barely stopping himself from murdering Xander for touching his star. Aiden is the ace striker, and strikers always get full credit, no matter how many good assists they get.
Still warming up, I search for Aiden. He stands near the bench, gripping a bottle of sports drink, but his attention isn’t on the drink or on Xander or on Ronan who’s talking to him.
It’s on me.
I freeze in the middle of stretching my hand behind my back. The position thrusts my breasts against my tracksuit. Aiden’s gaze trails down to the curve of my breasts slowly. Too slowly. It’s painful.
My throat closes. I feel like pumping air out of my lungs, gasping, and begging for breath.
When his metallic eyes slide back to mine, they’re full of undisclosed hunger.
Raw.
Furious.
I can’t breathe even if I want to. I feel like if I take one breath, he’ll jump me.
For two years, I got used to murderous glares from him. What’s up with this one?
I can take his hateful looks. Hell, I want us to go back to the hateful looks’ stage. At least back then, I wasn’t rattled out of my mind.
But this look? This hunger? This one I can’t take.
I break eye contact first. He can play whatever game he wants on his own.
The practice goes well for the most part. It’s after the fourth loop that exhaustion starts to settle in.
I take more pauses for water than necessary. My record keeps slowing down.
Now and then, when I look into the football pitch, I find Aiden’s destabilising eyes on me.
God damn him.
After practice, Coach calls me into her office as the other girls head into the shower.
Coach Nessrine has olive skin and dark blue eyes that give her an exotic look.
“Everything okay, Quinn?” Her brows furrow. “Your numbers weren’t optimal by the end. Have you been practising during the summer?”
“I have.” I swallow. “I’ll work hard. I promise.”
“Is it your heart condition?” she asks.
When I told Aunt Blair I want to run, she refused. Uncle and I did everything to coax her. She only agreed with her terms. One of them being that my coach knows about my heart condition and to always call her if anything comes up.
I can’t be removed from the team’s line up. Running is what keeps me alive.
“No. It’s only because of the season’s changes.”
Coach Nessrine nods, but she doesn’t seem convinced. We spend another twenty minutes strategising our next competition before I head to the showers.
The last of the girls leave the locker room. I release a relieved breath as I shimmy out of my clothes and step into the shower.
My head tips back as water cascades over me. I pretend it’s the rain soaking me and washing away all impurities.
Once I’m done, I scrub my hands clean and wrap a towel around my torso while stepping out of the shower.
A small rustle comes from the other side. Must be Coach who came to lock up.
I round the corner and freeze.
Aiden stands in the middle of the locker room.
