You think you are so fake
But you’re the realest thing I’ve ever seen
Painful to watch
Beautiful to see
Shattering to touch
Penn
Curiosity killed the cat, and it was about to land my ass in equally deep shit, too.
I knew coming back home before I got a text clearance that the party was over was a special brand of stupid, but my dumbass self is here anyway.
The party is in full force when I park the Prius all the way on the other side of the neighborhood, a mega creep move if I ever made one. I make my way to the Followhills’ mansion by foot, wearing a ball cap to stay under the radar, approaching it with hands tucked deep inside my pockets.
“Yo. Little shit.” I hear someone chuckle behind me and—because intelligence is not my friend tonight—decide it’s a good idea to turn around. It’s Dean Cole, Knight’s dad. He is sitting on the front porch of his colonial—a weird architectural design for SoCal, but apparently, his wife is from Virginia and he is crazy about her so he designed her the perfect Southern-style house from scratch—sipping a Bloody Mary.
“You think it’s a good idea to go in there?” He jerks his chin toward the Followhills’ mansion.
I spit my gum out and kick it all the way to the Spencers’ lawn.
“Nope.”
“Just checking.” He laughs.
“What are you doing up?” I eye him curiously. Is he snitching for the Followhills?
I can hear feminine coughing from his house. He winces, tossing his Bloody Mary back and finishes it with a gulp.
“Missus is feeling under the weather. She’s about to join me outside for some fresh air.”
I have nothing to say to that, so I just nod.
“You can crash here tonight,” he offers.
“Nah. I have some unfinished business with your spawn’s friends.” I bite off a callus from my palm and spit the dead skin on the ground.
Maybe I just want to be near Daria and Via. Make sure they haven’t killed each other yet. I turn to leave.
“Do you love her?” Dean Cole’s voice makes me stop dead in place.
I don’t know how he knows.
I don’t know if that means Jaime and Mel know, too.
And I have no idea why my face feels so hot.
All I do know is that now’s not the time to think about this question.
I shake my head, chuckling. “It’s just harmless fun.”
“Harmless for who?” he calls as I resume my way to the Followhills’.
For me, I want to say. The tin man.
“Are you gonna tell Jaime and Mel?” I turn around as I continue walking backward.
He refills his glass with a bottle on the arm of his recliner, his eyes on the liquid.
“And miss out on the moment he finds out and kicks your ass? I think I’ll let your sloppy ass do the job for me. But save me a front-row seat when that happens.”
“Deal.”
I slip behind the pool house, a good few feet from Gus and the All Saints football team.
In my defense, I didn’t come here with the intention of playing Sherlock and eavesdropping. The task rolled onto my lap the minute I slipped through the backyard. I was about to cross the lawn and find my sister to make sure she wasn’t overwhelmed when I heard Gus’s voice. Now, I can’t stop listening.
“…if we don’t make it to State, Coach’s going to cold-blooded kill us. Principal Prichard is going to burn whatever’s left of our bodies, and the mayor is going to kick us out of town.” I hear their running back moaning into his beer. “And, Gus, dude, I know we’ve been lucky, but you’ve seen our form at practice. We, like, suck.”
Gus laughs. I peek behind the pool house and watch him boomerang a loaded ashtray into the pool.
“Just because you suck doesn’t mean everyone else here does.”
“Alexa.” Knight Cole billows smoke after sucking on his joint, turning to the virtual assistant sitting next to him on a table between pool loungers. “Tell Gus that he is not fooling anyone. That we’ve been so bad the last couple of games we won by little, even though the other teams weren’t on the field, and that we’re about to run out of luck and need to start talking to Coach about making some serious changes if we want to get to State.”
“Relax, Cole.” Gus puffs his chest. He rearranges his ball cap on his head. The one that looks like it stinks. “I have it all under control. Shit, that rhymes! I’m hella creative when I’m high.”
“How do you mean?” Knight asks seriously. I detect some alarm in his voice, and Knight doesn’t get his feathers ruffled easily. I know Gus is off guard, drunk, and high, and if he is going to say something that would put him in deep shit, it’s going to be right here, right now. I suck in a breath, my skin bursting out in goose bumps. Gus opens his mouth, and the first words come out, but then I hear a loud whine directed at Gus.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you.” Via throws her arms around his neck and purrs.
Her voice is bubbly, bright, and as per usual—all fucking wrong. I close my fist, using every ounce of self-control in me to make sure I don’t slam it against the concrete wall I’m leaning against. Via blabs about trivial shit—apparently, they’re folding out and everyone’s leaving, so if the guys want another beer, now’s the time to get it. She just ruined my chances of hearing an admission from the horse’s mouth.
So much for reconnecting, rebuilding, and all that crap.
People are starting to file out of the house. A neighbor threatened to call the police, but they gave Daria thirty minutes to get her shit together before they sent the boys in blue. Something tells me that Dean’s doing me a solid. I know if I stay behind the pool house, people are bound to notice me when they round the house and head to their cars, so I slip into the pool house to hide.
Inside, it’s more like a guesthouse with an open-space living room and a kitchenette, turquoise marble over dark oak throughout. There is also a bedroom with a glass wall. You can see into the bedroom from any spot in the living room. Not that I currently have to. As soon as I reach the switch to turn on the light, I stop. The moans bleeding into my ears tell me I just walked in on a very private moment in the see-through bedroom.
Chuckling, I turn around, about to open the door and head back, when a small body bumps into mine. I look down and see Daria.
Her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open.
“What’s your ass doing on this side of the house?” I demand, continuing my perfect strike of stupidity/creep behavior for the evening. She lives here. I’m the one who was supposed to stay away tonight. But Daria is always a tad disoriented when we see each other, something that brings my ego and cock much delight.
“We keep the ice here, and some loser punched a wall trying to win a bet.” She rolls her eyes in full-blown cheerleader mode.
I grab her by the collar of her dress and pull her into the pool house, shutting the door behind us.
“I…” she begins, and I bite her lower lip like a savage. Hard and out of nowhere.
“Shhh,” I snarl. “We’ve got company, my hideous little monster.”
Still engulfed in complete darkness, I turn her body around and rest my chin on top of her head, pointing at the glass wall of the bedroom. We can only see their silhouettes, but their positions are clear. There’s a guy bracing his arm against the wall, thrusting himself into the mouth of a chick beneath him. He is fucking her mouth ruthlessly, one hand bracketing her head. A whimper escapes Daria’s throat, and my cock jerks in my jeans. It’s been too long since I’ve been inside her.
“Ever went down on anyone?” I lean down, my lips feathering over her shoulder blade. I grab her by the waist and pull her back into my body, my hard cock pressing against her back through our clothes. Damn height difference. I don’t know why I ask this. Getting an honest truth I’m not fond of might send me on a rampage. A criminal record is the last thing my ass needs, but if I find out Principal Prichard has been getting blowies from Daria, I just might slice him up into tiny pieces and fry him up for breakfast.
Hey, athletes can never get enough lean protein.
She inhales sharply but doesn’t answer.
My fingers travel along her inner thigh from behind, my teeth grazing her ear as I travel upward, toward her panties, then tug them aside.
“Answer me.”
She gasps when I pinch her clit, so I do it again. I’m so hard I’m about to burst all over her dress, something I’m sure my preppy princess wouldn’t appreciate. Her head rolls back on my shoulder when I start fucking her with my index and middle finger, swirling her clit with my thumb. My other hand is working her nipple through her dress.
“All my firsts,” she chokes out brokenly. “You stole all of them.”
“That’s my girl. Look at them,” I hiss, my voice so husky and gruff, I barely recognize it. “Take notes, Skull Eyes. This’ll be us tomorrow.”
She refocuses on the couple in front of us going at it. His thrusts become jerkier and faster, and he groans. Daria cups my dick from behind and squeezes, and I close my eyes.
Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come.
Outside, people breeze through the pool house. They’re talking and laughing and yelling and living their mediocre, average existence. The place is clearing out, but there are still some assholes milling around, refusing to leave. Including the couple in front of us, who are not about to appreciate the audience when they’re done milking an orgasm from this guy’s dick.
“Coming,” the dude jeers, his voice laced with venomous boredom.
I can practically envision Daria’s eyes widen when she hears his familiar tenor and have to work her extra fast to keep her in the pre-orgasm zone.
It’s Vaughn.
“Not on my face this time,” the girl purrs, giggling with her mouth full of him.
Daria groans. “Esme.”
I quickly move my spare hand from her chest to cover her mouth in case she’s in the mood for a confrontation.
Personally, I don’t give two shits about who they are. I just know they made my balls tighten, and now I need an outlet. Vaughn pulls out of Esme’s mouth and tugs her hair, tilting her head up and coming all over her neck and tits through her dress. I swear at this moment I nearly shove my whole fist into Daria, and she comes so hard, she yells my name, biting my palm where there’s still a cut from my blood oath with Via.
Count on Daria to kill any good intention I have with my flakey, fake sister.
Esme snaps her head toward us while Vaughn is still pumping his jizz lazily into the crack between her tits, and without thinking, I grab Daria’s hand and sneak her out before they can see our faces. My hand is dripping blood between us on her manicured lawn.
“Crap.” She runs across her backyard with me. Her heels are digging into the moist earth, slowing her down, and I tug on her hand, not in the mood for ASH assholes to see the Las Juntas rat crashing their precious party.
“What if they saw us?” she wheezes.
“They’re the ones caught with his dick in Esme’s mouth. Let them figure it out.” I round her house and bend her under the kitchen window that’s facing a wrought-iron gate and high bushes. No one can see us here.
“Where have you been tonight?” The accusation in her voice is harsh. I was visiting Adriana and Harper, but it’s Daria’s birthday party, and I’m not about to shit all over her night. I pull her between my thighs, cupping her ass.
“Missed me?” I use my thumb to wipe my blood along her lower lip. She licks it without hesitation, her eyes on me.
“Answer my question, Penn.”
“I got you a birthday present.”
“A blood oath with your sister?” Her gaze drops to my hand.
A perceptive little thing, she is. I don’t think people give Daria the credit she deserves. She could’ve found Bin Laden in a week had she been given enough Red Bull and good internet service. I’m still not sure how I feel about Via. I don’t buy her good girl charade, and the more time that passes, the more I realize maybe I loved her just because someone had to. Because our mother didn’t. When Via was being her real self, I could at least relate to her anger. I felt it, too. This Brady Bunch version, though? Straight up made of cardboard and fake glitter.
“Turn around.” I change the subject.
“That seems to be your favorite position of me.” Daria sighs, still spinning in place. She is wrong. I can look at her face all fucking day. I wish it were a legit job so I could make money doing it. I would put in all the extra hours and become a billionaire within a year.
(The math doesn’t add up, by the way, so don’t try to do it.)
I collect her blond locks and let them fall on her right shoulder, then kiss her nape. I produce the sea glass necklace from my pocket and put it on her.
She gasps when the orange sea glass hits her delicate rib cage, and her chest caves.
Daria twists back to me with tears in her eyes. I can’t bear her vulnerability because it seems real, and I can’t think of her as real. Even if she is genuine, this can never work out. Even if I don’t give a damn about what Jaime and Mel think, Daria does although she would die denying it. And her parents will never be okay with us being together. Not to mention the hell Via is going to give me. But before all of this can even materialize, there is also the Adriana and Principal Prichard mess to sort out, and nothing promises me that Daria won’t get cold feet about telling her precious rich friends she’s dating the token charity case.
Every single time I’d take her out, I’d pay for the bill with her daddy’s allowance. I won’t be getting any money of my own before I play college football, and when I do, who knows where Daria will be? We’ve never talked about it. I’ll go wherever I’m offered a full scholarship.
The world is wide-open for her. She can go to the East Coast, or Midwest, or fucking Europe.
My world, however, is narrow-pathed and dingy. I don’t believe in fairy tales. I think Shakespeare got it right. When two people try to go against the grain, they get fucked up. End of story.
“Skull Eyes,” I whisper. She links her arms around my neck and rises on her toes to kiss me.
“I felt so lonely without it,” she whispers into my mouth.
“It felt so lonely without you,” I admit.
“Are we still talking about the necklace?”
We both laugh, but it dies down quickly. Our lips find each other as if they were programmed to do so. We kiss for so long my lips burn and crack at the edges. There’s a desperation in that kiss that wasn’t there before. It feels like goodbye, and I don’t like how it tastes. I pull away, wanting a redo. I also want to tell her to stop seeing Prichard. That it’s time to cut all the background noise. I still don’t know what to do with Adriana, or with Daria’s parents, or with my fucking life, but I’ve always been good at figuring shit out as I go along.
The minute I open my mouth, a scream of horror explodes from my right. Both Daria and I whip our heads, and it’s Via, standing in front of us, cupping her mouth.
My twin sister pivots on her heel and runs away, and I go after her. It’s an instinct more than anything because last time she did it, Rhett stopped me.
This time, nothing will.
I tackle Via to the grass by the pool, and we both slide on the damp blades. She squirms underneath me, yelping. Me, wet, freshly cut grass, and Friday night lights are where I thrive. I rise from her, pulling at her arm to stand and holding her elbow as I drag her all the way into the house. She protests between sobs, and I have a feeling she is too deranged to think clearly right now.
Once I enter the empty house—that’s in an advanced stage of trashed—I direct her to her room downstairs. I’m momentarily disoriented by all the pink Melody put in there. Someone needs to sit her ass down and tell her not everything feminine and teenager-y needs to look like a pussy. I throw Via over a beanbag and square my shoulders.
“Look,” I say with a calm I don’t feel. “It is what it is.”
Even I acknowledge the lameness of the explanation. Not that it makes it any less true. If she is freaked out about Daria and me exchanging juices, she’s about to get a whole lot more uncomfortable.
“Are you dating her?” Her eyes are sparkling red. Her whole face is a mess.
I knead my forehead, giving it some genuine thought. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“What about Adriana and the baby?”
“They have nothing to do with this.” I pause. “Wait, how do you know about Harper?”
I guess it makes sense that she does, but I’m still mad she found out like this. I’m mad that we didn’t get the chance to discuss it. That we’re not who we’re supposed to be to one another.
She looks down, pouting. Then it hits me. She wrote to Addy. She kept in touch with Addy. This shit is unreal. I knew Via was mad at me, whether she admits it or not, but then something dawns on me. Something that gives my tin man, half-functioning heart a reason to break.
She didn’t come back for me.
“Does Adriana know?” she asks between sniffs.
My story with Addy goes back to age five. We grew up in the same neighborhood. Via and I used to sneak into her house every time the smell of her mom’s pozole and Spanish rice was too much for us. We begged for food, and Addy’s mother took mercy on us. And I returned it with a very unwelcome favor in the form of knocking Adriana up. At least, that’s the version I’m sticking to.
“She knows,” I drawl. After what happened at Lenny’s, Adriana started asking questions. She’s used to my messing around with other chicks, but it was never serious and never got to a point where anyone has threatened her place.
Needless to say, Adriana was not pleased. I think a part of her is hoping that I’ll take her and Harper with me wherever I go for college. But I’ve only ever promised to provide for them, not to stick around.
Via flings herself over the bed and presses her arm to her eyes. She is crying again.
“I can’t believe you fell for her, Penn.”
This is the third time this evening I’m being poked about my feelings toward Skull Eyes. No wall in this mansion is safe from my fist.
“You can’t see her anymore.” Via wipes at her tears.
I stare at her pitifully. “It’s not for you to decide.”
“No.” She shakes her head frantically, standing up. “You don’t understand. You can’t. I will never forgive the betrayal.”
“What betrayal?”
“The letter of acceptance you both destroyed.”
Sonofabitch. How does she know?
“That’s right.” She tilts her chin up. “Daria decided to throw it in my face tonight. She thought it’d be fun to see me agonized over it. Penn, how could you like someone like that? I know she is pretty, but she is horrible. She did awful things to me and other people. She tore us apart.”
I suck in my teeth as the world tilts sideways. I’m losing grip of my shit. Sometimes I wish I’d been born an eagle or a wolf or a fucking wombat. Anything not to deal with people.
“Break up with her.”
“Via,” I warn. I don’t take orders from anyone. Not even Coach.
“It’s an ultimatum.” Her voice turns steady and metallic.
“That’s a big word for someone who currently means so little to me.” It’s my turn to cut deep. Her face twists in agony to my confession.
“Oh.” I cock an eyebrow. “You thought I was still the same asshole you left behind?”
She is quivering like a leaf now. She rushes over to me and grabs my shoulders. I don’t know why I hate it even more than I’ve hated everything about her ever since she came back. The original Via was a lot of things, but she wasn’t tacky. She was real. Real petty. Real vindictive. Real hungry. But real all the same.
“You don’t understand!” She stomps. “It’s either her or me.”
“I don’t do ultimatums,” I announce emotionlessly. “Make me choose, and you won’t like the results.”
“If you don’t break up with her, I am moving back with Dad. It’s been horrible there, but at least I feel like I have some sort of family. They mean well, even if their way of life is all wrong. I can’t be here, among strangers, with a brother who is in love with my archenemy, the girl who ruined my future. Why should I stick around for a guy who helped Daria Followhill get rid of my acceptance letter to the Royal Academy? That’s why I left, Penn. Now watch as I hitchhike back to Mississippi. Just pray I won’t be raped and beaten to death this time around. And before you ask if I mean it—please remember, I did it four years ago, when I was much younger and even more helpless.”
My blood runs cold in my veins. We both know I will never forgive myself if Via leaves again. Her past four years have been hell, and we weren’t there for each other. Yes, she returned a little kooky, and preachy, and way too nice and proper for my liking, but she is still my twin sister. We shared a womb for nine months, and all the problems life threw at us after that. Her absence hasn’t changed that. A girl with eyes like the endless ocean and hair like golden beaches doesn’t change that.
Then Via puts the last nail in the coffin.
“If you don’t break up with her, I’ll tell her mother, friends, and everyone she cares about what she did to me. We both know they love her but don’t like her one bit. All they need is a little push to make Daria become a reject, and I’m more than happy to shove. It will be a spectacular fall. But if you do as I say, her secret’s safe with me.”
I turn around and stalk out before I do something stupid.
Stopping at the threshold of her room, my back still to her, I drop a counter strike. Call it friendly fire, but a soldier doesn’t go down without taking an enemy with him.
“You don’t want me with Followhill? Stay the fuck away from Gus.”
