Celeste's childhood wasn't something she loved talking about. It was filled with nothing but painful memories. Whether they were the ones from when her father, along with her brothers, left, or the ones from her mother's death and her stepfather's a...
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SOMETHING ABOUT invisibility had never failed to catch my attention.
Feeling like an outcast at school was peaceful. Lurking in the background, away from the judging gazes and the hushed whispers, sounded appealing. Being a shadow at home was easier.
No one would constantly come after you, asking if you were alright when you clearly weren't. No one would talk to you when all you wanted to do was sleep until the heaviness in your chest started to falter and the pain started to die. No one would act like everything was normal when nothing was.
I had fallen into that void of invisibility after Lorenzo had gotten arrested. I had avoided everyone at school when I had only been trying to avoid the rumors they had spread about us. I had faded to the background at home, avoiding Jack as much as I could, not wanting to face his anger when I was all alone.
No one had paid attention to me back then. It had been a lot easier.
But things had changed now.
When I attempted to be an outcast at school by avoiding everyone all day, Marco and his friends wouldn't let me stay alone. They would talk to me all the time. They would give me the attention I'd never received in the past. None of them would be rude, and they'd avoid the topics I hated thinking of.
At home, Armani wouldn't let me stay in my twin's room for too long, sleeping all time. He'd taken me to the doctor for a check-up when I'd told him that I had been feeling tired, and he'd told me that he needed help with cooking when I'd said that I wasn't hungry. My brothers wouldn't leave my side, even if I rarely spoke or agreed to be included in what they did.
That had been going on for the past five days. It seemed as though they were expecting me to break at any moment, waiting for me to crumble, expecting me to open up.
It was weird; suffocating. I didn't want them to act that way. I didn't want to be out of the dark all day, talking when my head pounded and my heart hurt. I didn't want to be watched or cared for when everything seemed to be falling apart, the walls I'd surrounded myself with crumbling.
Lorenzo avoided me. Or I just stopped talking to him. I avoided him. None of us spoke to the other. It always turned so tense when we sat in the same room. But if anything, he did make me feel like an outcast, like I was a shadow lurking away from sight.
We were so close and yet so far apart. The bond we'd spent years building had begun to break, and there was nothing I could do to stop it from doing so. I was capable of trying harder—I knew that—but I was so tired. And sad.
But another try wouldn't hurt, right? It wasn't like I'd feel worse than I already did.
I rubbed a clenched fist of mine over my eyes, wiping the tears I had been holding back out of my vision.
I found Enzo in the living room, sitting alone as his head rested lazily against the couch, his gaze watching the sky. His breaths were slow, and his hands were fiddling with the soft material of the gray blanket resting on his lap.
