Eden goes through her magazine slowly and I know she isn’t with me. She has tunnel vision and all she sees is the past.
“I’m done,” Eden says sadly. She stands and tosses the magazine on the ground. “I’m going downstairs. I can’t keep looking through these things, trying to find someone that I don’t want to remember!”
I pause in my search and look over at my sister. She stands with her hands on small hips and blinks back her tears. I walk over to give her the tightest hug I can manage. “I’m sorry,” I pull back and give her a weak smile. “You can go if you want to.”
“Thank you.” Eden is halfway to the door when she turns around to look at me. “When you find enemy number one, don’t tell me, okay?”
“I won't.”
The door clicks softly behind her. I walk back to where we sat and pick up the magazine off the floor. I stare at the cover, a picture of a few students walking through the halls with bright smiles on their faces. When I went there, boys and girls were separated. They had their own private school and so did we. A year ago, they converged.
My steps are slow as I walk across the room and scan the back page. Close to the bottom, in small block letters, is the name I’ve been searching for. I read through the entire article. Twice. This small article holds all the answers I need.
I have a plan.
I lay the magazine on my desk. With a red marker, I circle the face that destroyed my life.
“I know everything you did,” I whisper at the picture. The face still smiles. I press my finger deep into the paper and my nail makes a line through the smiling face.
“You’re going to regret everything.”
PART ONE
If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
-William Shakespeare
EMILIA
You can discover a lot about someone within a few seconds.
When I saw Severine Blake, I knew instantly that she was someone to be reckoned with. I was sitting on a picnic table, waiting for my friend Tosha to finish her class. She walked out of a large brick building with Severine next to her.
I didn’t know Severine Blake, but I was intrigued because the stunning brunette had confidence, yet the way she toyed with the strap of her bag showed just how nervous she was.
She stopped talking to Tosha and focused on a guy. My eyes narrowed as I took in his dark hair, tall frame and profile. My blood froze and my breathing became labored, because he was there.
Right in front of me.
But even with my fear, I noticed that the two people in front of me had a story. I wanted to know it from beginning to end.
Tosha came over to my table and flung her bag onto the frozen tabletop. A chunk of ice fell off the side with a loud clunk. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms and gave a dramatic shiver. “Do you really want to sit out here in the freezing air? I know you’re a New Yorker and might be used to freezing your ass off, but I’m not.” To prove the point, she pulled back her light brown hair and pointed at her red ears. “Look, Emilia! They are frozen. Frozen, I tell you! Let’s go to the student center.”
If there was one good thing about Kentucky, it was Tosha. We had known each other since middle school. She knew all my weird quirks and I knew hers. It was a miracle we still wanted to be around each other.
Ignoring her comment, I pointed at the tall brunette. “Who is that girl?”
Tosha looked confused before she finally glanced behind her back. “Oh, Severine? Yeah, she just started sitting by me in class,” she shrugged her shoulders casually. “I guess she had a breakup with that guy talking to her.”
“Interesting,” I murmured. My gloveless hands rested underneath my chin as I watched the couple in front of me. The two of them seemed oblivious to everything. Grenades could be landing around them and they’d probably still be in their little world. “Did he dump her?” I asked.
“Actually, it was the other way around,” Tosha replied. “Macsen Sloan cheated on her and she broke up with him right after. She won’t take him back. Between you and me, that takes balls.”
The name Sloan. That last name was a punch to my chest. Sloan is a reminder of everything I’m dying to forget. Hearing that name is almost worse than being in the same area as him.
I almost blurted out to Tosha that Macsen had lived in New York and went to the same school as us, but she wouldn’t know him. After middle school, Tosha went to a different high school. When tragedy hit my family she was there, but never knew the truth.
I did and that was the only reason I was there.
My hands dropped from my face and fell onto the table. Sharply, I looked over at Tosha. “Macsen?”
She was busy digging around in her bag. “Yeah,” she said distractedly.
A cold gust of air hit my bare neck. I flicked my braid over one shoulder and adjusted the collar of my coat. My eyes never left the couple in front of me.
“Can you stop staring at Severine? People watching is so creepy, Emilia,” Tosha declared loudly.
She made that statement anytime we were together. I had no plans to quit what I did best. It was too fascinating. Who needed the theatre or television for entertainment? Free drama was all around me. When people were arguing or laughing, they became unaware—their feelings took over and their guards were dropped.
That was a show worth watching.
Macsen moved his face closer to Severine. My eyes narrowed over the action. I stayed perfectly still and watched the couple in front of me, reminding myself that every little secret would be out in the open—just not now.
I hadn’t seen Macsen Sloan in years. It was one chance meeting, but I remembered his cocky face as he laughed at a joke his friend told him. The two of them walked past Aniston and me. I had to practically drag Aniston away because he was seconds away from attacking Macsen.
The Macsen in front of me was no longer laughing. I watched as he abruptly turned and walked in the other direction.
I was dying to know the situation brewing between him and Severine.
Seconds later, Severine walked toward Tosha, looking visibly upset. She practically threw her bag at the table.
“That seemed intense,” Tosha said lightly. She gave me the eye and I knew she was dying to hear the details just as much as me.
Severine looked pissed. “Not much to say about it. Macsen’s a dick.”
I placed my chin back onto my cold palm and quietly observed her. She was looking me up and down in that way that most girls did. It always made me paranoid—making me question if there was something on my face or if a piece of hair was sticking straight up. But this time, I leaned forward and ignored all my self-conscious thoughts.
“You two have a story,” I stated.
My words make her sit up straight. She lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Yeah. Doesn’t everyone have a story?”
She dodged my statement with a question. Severine was tough to crack.
Tosha leaned her head against my shoulder. “I told Severine you were a people watcher.”
“Severine?” I said her name wrong on purpose. Internally, I had been rolling the name around, trying to pronounce it right. I liked it. It was foreign, unique—completely her.
She sighed and I knew she was used to it being said wrong. “No. Seh-vreen.”
I drummed my fingers against my cheek. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
She played with the material of her gloves and looked away. “Mmm...thanks.”
Finally, I asked the question I was dying to know the answer to. “That guy that ran away all coward-like...is he your boyfriend?”
Severine laughed bitterly and looked away. “Ah, that’s a big no.”
“So he made a mistake?” I asked.
Her green eyes immediately narrowed. “You tell me, Watch-Woman Emilia. What did you see from our exchange?”
“I saw a guy wanting your attention. I noticed a girl who looked broken but strong at the same time.” I kept my hands busy and flicked a piece of snow off the table. “By the way, any girl that can hold her own is a friend of mine.”
I held out my hand and she shook it firmly.
She pulled back and her shoulders relaxed. “Tosha said you’re thinking about going here next year?”
I had made my decision before I ever stepped foot on campus. But now I knew, without a doubt, this was the place I had to be.
“I’m not thinking about it. I am coming here.” I smiled and looked around. “This place is going to offer me so much.”
That was my first conversation with Severine Blake. Back then I had hope that she would come around to me. But as I stand in the doorway of the dorm room we will share together, I know that I was far off. In the few seconds that I have been in this small room, Severine already has a wall built up.
She looks me up and down, taking in my red blouse and white shorts. I spent an hour picking out an outfit that would be move-in appropriate. This outfit would have passed in New York, but here, I stand out.
“Uh ... am I missing something here?” she asks.
Severine is staring at me, visibly shaken. I let out a deep sigh and keep my eyes on her. “I thought you’d know by now. I’m your new roommate.”
It took a lot of maneuvering and planning to become Severine’s roommate. There is the option to rent an apartment twice the size of this small room, but if I want to follow through with my plan I need to room with Severine.
My new roomie looks visibly shaken. The two of us silently look at each other. And even for me, someone who prefers silence over conversation, it’s starting to feel awkward.
Someone coughs close to my left. I jerk my head instantly in the direction. Thayer Sloan stands tall, leaning against the wall. I know he’s dating Severine. Google can tell you a lot. Type in Thayer Sloan and you’ll have Severine Blake attached to him.
“Do you guys want me to leave?” he asks the two of us.
His demeanor is friendly and I know he doesn’t recognize me. If he did, it would show on his face in seconds. He’d become awkward. I’ve come to expect that from everyone.
Thayer is a Sloan and I want him to go. Severine grabs his hand. “No!” she says urgently. She gives me a once over and turns back to Thayer. “No, you can stay.”
I’m not welcome here, but I’m not going anywhere. I stretch my lips into a plastic smile. It’s one my mom would be proud of—she taught me everything I know. There is an art to appearing confident. Nothing easy about it.
I know some people are just born with kindness. It comes to them as natural as breathing. I used to be one of those people. Fortunately, Joy Wentworth raised me. No one is more skilled at disguising who they really are than my mother.
Thayer steps forward and points at the door. “You need help with anything else?” he asks me.
My fingers tap against my bare thigh. I want to tell him no, but for appearance’ sake, I nod my head and drop the heavy laundry basket onto the naked mattress on the left. “That’d be great. I have a few more boxes in my car.” I dig my keys out of my pocket. The whole time, Severine stares at me with narrowed eyes. I toss my keys to him. “Look for the red convertible.”
He smiles kindly and turns to go away.
I stop him with my words. “Thank you, by the way.”
“No problem.” He brushes a hand down Severine’s arm affectionately. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Blake.”
She gives him a curt nod and he leaves. I turn away from her and look around at the small space I will be calling home for the next few months. The walls are a stained white, like a blank canvas. Two twin beds sit next to each other, separated by a brown end table. Sandwiched at the edges of the beds are two small desks. It isn’t much, but when is any dorm room spacious?
I wipe my palms on my shorts and turn to look at Severine. “I understand there was a mix up with the whole rooming situation.” I smile nervously. Severine says nothing in response and I continue, “It all got cleared up, and now I’m here.”
There was no mix up. Not unless you consider me harassing the RA into letting me switch roommates.
Severine’s lips form a tight line, and her hands settle on her hips. I think she is attempting to figure me out. “I knew you mentioned transferring last winter, but what are the odds that we’d become roommates?” she asks me thoughtfully.
It was like she was testing me, waiting to see if I would give her the right answer. I turn back to my little laundry basket and move items around as I answer. “Crazy, isn’t it?”
“Very crazy,” Severine says cryptically.
I ignore her response and ask her another question. “That tall dude ... is he your boyfriend?”
She nods her head slowly. “Yes, I’m with Thayer.”
Severine is talking to me, answering my questions, but she is detached from our conversation. Her responses are so clipped and blunt I can tell she’s trying to end this conversation quickly.
“He seems nice,” I comment. It’s almost physically painful to admit that
any
Sloan is nice.