My mind and my heart feel like they’re exploding. My lip quivers and a yowling sound emanates from my mouth, a sound so vile that it’s unfamiliar to me, and it makes me want to lash out at Phoenix.
“This is the truth, Princess. The cold, hard truth.”
“How … How could he?” I mumble, still in shock from what I’m seeing.
A text on Phoenix’s cell phone clearly shows a new assignment from someone who hires him. Someone who wants me dead. And that someone is named Arthur Starr.
“Because of the money, Vanessa. It’s all around you. Can’t you smell it? This place reeks of blood money. You know what it can do to people. Look at you. You’re a prime example.”
I sniff, pushing away the impending tears. “I am not like that.”
“Oh, really?” He glances at his cell phone and then back at me. “So that’s why someone wants you dead. Because you’re such a nuisance.”
“Arthur was … different.”
“No, he just pretended to be so he could try and get you to go down easily. It was always about the money. You married into fortune, he wanted it, and he couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Is that why you’re here?” I ask.
“No, I got this text after I arrived at your place. Rather convenient, don’t you think? I guess they knew where I was headed.”
“Who is they?”
“The people I work for,” he muses. “Not that it matters to you.”
“But why would he want me dead? He’s part of the Starr family. It was their money, not mine.”
“And you got it because you married Phillip,” he says. “And then I killed him, so his fortune became yours.”
“So Arthur actually wanted Phillip’s life … the company … he wanted to marry me,” I mutter. Everything is clicking into place.
“Except you didn’t.”
“I had no choice,” I say looking directly into Phoenix’s eyes. “You think I even had the right to make a decision? I wasn’t allowed to pick who I married, Phoenix. Open your eyes. I’m not the only one blind to the fucking truth!”
His lips part, but nothing comes out. He just stands there motionless. I wonder what he’s thinking. Maybe he finally realizes that, even though I married into wealth, it was not my choice.
“You could have said no,” he says. His resolve is cracking. His true emotions are flowing through.
“And then what? Do you think my mother would’ve let me?” I say. His emotions are like the notes of a piano, and I am an expert at playing.
“Who gives a shit about your mother!” Phoenix yells, almost crushing his cell phone.
“I do! And she threatened you!” I yell back.
This shuts him up completely.
The cell phone drops from his hand, and he blinks a couple of time, before picking it up again.
He clears his throat and licks his lips. I guess the cat’s out of the bag now. I didn’t want to tell him, but my circumstances now require that I do. Telling him means he’ll know why I gave him up and why I chose someone else over him. Now that he knows, it’s much easier for him to accept me as I’ve become. Yes, I am a lying, conniving bitch, but I didn’t choose to be this way.
And now he knows the truth.
Good. It makes it that much easier to play with his emotions until he finally admits that even though he says he hates me to death, he still has feelings for me. I know he does, I can see it. I could feel it in the way he kissed me.
It was just like how I remember.
How we used to be.
Before everything turned to ruin.
Suddenly, he starts rummaging in his bag and takes out the duct tape. He storms toward me and rips off a piece with his teeth.
“No, don’t,” I say, shaking my head, but then he sticks it on my mouth.
“You talk too much,” he says.
I try to speak, but it all sounds like muffled groans. He puts his finger in front of my mouth. “You watch that pretty mouth of yours, before I fuck it.”
Then he gets up and turns around. He doesn’t even grant me one more look before waltzing out of the door and slamming it shut behind him.
***
Age 15
Things have been going downhill quickly ever since Miles kissed me. My friends saw it and told my parents. It’s no wonder that my mother didn’t want me to see him again. It must be the reason she invited Phillip to meet me.
Of course, my parents also punished me. I was on house arrest with no phone, no internet, and no friends. It was a living hell. I hate being confined to my room with only my homework to look at. It’s like my parents don’t want me to have a social life at all. They want me to put my future first, and do everything in my power to be successful. It’s not fair, though. Maybe I don’t want to be what they want me to be, but I don’t even have a choice. They are forcing me to fit into the mold they want me to fit. I can’t be myself, so how am I supposed to learn what I need?
I can’t … which makes it impossible to be around Miles. He doesn’t understand. I thought I could be friends with him, but my parents are making it impossible, and I don’t even know what I want anymore. For once, I just want people to be happy with me. To be someone my parents can be proud of, so they’ll finally have something positive to say about me. To be something.
And to be something, I have to work hard. I have to study fast. I have to become someone I want to be, and for that I need power. At least, that’s what my parents always say. Study hard and work hard because then you have power, and power means you can do whatever you want in this world.
So, power it is.
I guess they feel like Miles would be in the way of that. They want him gone. They want me to lie to him. Heck, they want me to lie to everyone because that’s just the way our family is. Lie to everyone to soften the blow and get whatever you desire.
And the worst part of it all is that they force me to lie, and now, I’ve started doing it without their instructions. It’s like it’s been glued inside my brain.
I hate that they’re trying to make me part from Miles, although I do understand why. He doesn’t exactly bring a healthy mindset to the table. He keeps rebelling, while I’m trying to conform to the rules, and it’s ripping us apart. Even though we were once so close, I have no idea what to do with him now.
Every day I watch him stand with his friends, in the hallways, outside, in the playground, and I wonder what in the hell he’s doing with his life. Smoking. Drinking. He’s even gotten tattoos and piercings now. Just looking at him can make me boil. I don’t know why it makes me so angry, but it does. I want so much more for him. He deserves so much better than this, and I don’t understand why he won’t give himself a chance. It’s like he’s already given up.
Well, just because my parents won’t allow me to be friends with him, doesn’t mean I can’t try when they’re not around. Nobody has to know. I just wish Miles would understand it without me having to literally tell him what’s going on in my family.
I walk to him as he stands by the lockers and pluck the cigarette from his hand, throwing it in the garbage.
“What the …” he says.
“What are you doing?” I say.
“Why do you care?” he asks. His friends start laughing.
“Because I do. And so should you.” I frown.
He turns his back toward his friends so he can talk more quietly with me. “And you think I don’t?”
“No, if you did, you wouldn’t be out here smoking and … adorning yourself.”
He raises his eyebrows as he points at the piercing in his lip. “Oh, you mean this?”
“Yeah, and whatever else you’re doing to yourself. I don’t understand why. Is it some sort of cry for attention?”
He chuckles. “Now you’re really starting to push my buttons. Be careful there, Princess.”
“Princess?” I wince. “Seriously?”
He leans forward. “Yeah, because you’re acting like a stuck-up princess. I just call it like it is.”
I shake my head. “I can’t believe this.”
“What? That I’m not like you? That I care less about studying and more about my friends? That I don’t try to make anyone but myself happy?”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
He places his hand on the locker in a way that overwhelms me a little, making me want to shrink in his presence. “Oh, really? Then what are you doing? Because it sure seems like you’re trying to mold me into someone you can be friends with.”
“I’m not trying to mold you—”
He grabs my arm and pins me to the locker. “Listen, Princess. I’m not a toy you can play with.”
“You’re not—”
“Shh.” He places his finger on my lips. “Stop trying to convince me to be like you. It won’t work. I’ll never be like that. You can forget about it. And if that’s what it takes to be your friend, then I can’t be your friend.”
I frown, my lips parting. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “What? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tears well up in my eye, but I blink them away. “I can’t believe you’re saying this.”
He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Look at me.” He lifts his shirt and shows me the tattoo on his chest. It’s some sort of bird with a skull in the middle. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up just looking at it. Why is he doing this? And more importantly, how? It’s illegal at our age, so some questionable joint must’ve done it. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I care a lot.
“Does this look like something you want to see?”
“I don’t mind …” I shrug. “I just think you’re focusing on the wrong things.”
“I’m focusing on what I want.” He leans in, placing his other hand above my head and trapping me. “Maybe you should do the same once in a while. It’s much healthier.”
“Are you suggesting that I’m not doing what’s healthy for me? Because those piercings are obviously proof of your knowledge,” I sneer.
“Hmm …” He smiles, and his tongue dips out to lick his piercing, which causes goosebumps to appear all over my body. I’m transfixed by the way he tugs on it, and it makes me want to touch it. Goddammit.
“You know what I think? I think you’re just jealous,” he muses.
“Jealous?” I say, shocked. “Of what?”
“Of the fact that I can do whatever the hell I please, and you’re stuck doing what Mommy and Daddy demand.”
That’s it. He’s gone and done it now. Rage is filling up my veins, and before I know it, my fist is right up in his face, making contact.
For a moment, all the people in the hallway stop in their tracks, and I have a feeling they’re all looking at us. Nobody flinches, not even Miles himself. As I take my fist off him, I turn around and run into the nearest bathroom.
Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god. I can’t believe I just did that.
I stare into the mirror, wondering what in the hell is wrong with me. Why in the hell did I do that? Why do I let him piss me off so much?
I turn on the faucet and splash some of the water on my face before wiping it off with a clean towel.
Someone knocks on the door, and I look up and wait. My heart is pounding when I hear his voice.
“Vanessa … please come out.”
I don’t know what to say because nothing is an excuse for what I did. And yet, I’m too terrified to go out there because I fear he’ll hit me back.
I don’t know why I’d think that, but somehow, I do. Maybe it’s because of that redheaded kid he beat up, the one trying to bully us. Something about Miles makes me cower, and that’s not me at all. I always feel on top of my game, except when I look at him. When I do, all I see is hurt, fear, anxiety, and above all, anger. It’s like he could lash out at any time. This fear has me in its grasp. Almost as if it has power over me.
I can’t let it win.
I straighten my back and pat down my clothes before I walk out the door right when the bell rings.
Miles just stands there, his eyebrows almost touching each other, his chest going up and down as he heaves, probably attempting to calm himself down as he always does.
I swallow away the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t be. I had it coming.” He narrows his eyes. “We both know this isn’t working.”
“Yeah …” I say, still leaning against the door as if it’s going to provide me with protection.
“But here’s the thing. I don’t want to stop being friends with you,” he says, making me hold my breath. “I’m trying to be myself and be worthy of your friendship.”
“But you are …” I mutter.
“No.” He takes a step forward. “That’s the whole point. I’m never going to be good enough.”
“What? How can you say that about yourself?”
“Look at us,” he shouts. “Look at your grades, all A’s. Now look at mine … I’m glad if I can get a C.”
“But I know you can do so much better,” I say, cocking my head. “I can help you.”
“No, you can’t. It’s not what you do; it’s what I can’t do.” There’s a certain pain in his voice; it stings so badly that it hurts my soul.
“But—”
“No, there is no but.” He steps even closer, placing his hand on the door. “You don’t get it. I can’t change. I can’t make it work. This is not me.” He fishes in my front pocket and takes out the pen. “That’s you.” Then he puts it back and lifts his shirt, showing me his tattoo again. “This is me.”
“So?” I say.
“We’re different, and we’ll always be. We’re not from the same environment. I can’t be what you want me to be. I can’t ever be good enough for you. Nothing will change that.”
I shake my head because I hate the way this conversation is going. It’s as if he wants to end everything with me, whatever it is that we have. “You’re wrong.”
He places another hand on the door, blocking me from leaving. Not that I was going anywhere at this rate because I don’t care about class right now. All I care about is him.
“Why am I not good enough?” He leans in. “No matter what I do. Is it your parents? Your future? Your own wishes?”
I don’t have the answers he seeks. All I know is that he’s right. It’s everything.
He leans in so close that I can feel his hot breath on my lips. I close my eyes, my body shuddering from the close proximity of his mouth. God, I can almost imagine him kissing me again. It was a long time ago, but I’ve been thinking about it every single day. It’s all I want, but it’s wrong … so wrong. I can’t be with him. I can’t want him. I’m not allowed.
“It’s all of those things, isn’t it?” he whispers, making me suck in a breath.
I nod, intoxicated by his smell. I want it. I can’t have it, but I want it so badly.
“I’ll show you that I’m good enough. You just wait and see,” he whispers. “One day.”
And then the warmth turns into cold ice as he walks away, leaving me in shambles.
