Resist: To Love is To Suffer

Chapter Seven

I leaned over the sink in the first floor half bath, head hung as I gripped the marble countertop. I watched my knuckles grow white, watched the veins pop from my arms, and focused on the screaming chant to chill the fuck out that repeated in my head. I tried to steady my breathing, but it remained rapid. I tried to slow my pulse, but it continued to thunder through me despite the crushing grip of panic around my chest.

The last time I'd seen her, I ran out of the house without saying goodbye. She had just given me something I cherished, something I would never part with, and then sent me away like it had meant nothing. She toyed with me, and worse, she didn't even know it. I wanted to be angry at her, I want to unleash the fury all this injustice stirred in me, but then a single short phrase erased every ache she'd caused and I was right back where I started. Only deeper, more entrenched, more addicted.

Voices carried down the hall and I remembered my mission. Poke the bears. I gave my reflection a scowl, turning all the animosity that had been brewing back onto myself, "Get your shit together, Sagreti."

I left the bathroom and met the boys in the front hall. They'd started as Killian's friends, the ragtag little group he'd run with at his old public school, and he hadn't been able to shake them after coming to the Academy. Not that he ever would have. I thought back to the first time I'd met them, when Naomi hauled all of us into her SUV for a kids skating class at Rosewood on one of her days to play community mom over summer break. Rey hadn't been old enough to join in and she cried from the sidelines the whole time. I was a year older, a grade ahead, and they treated me with reverence because of it. Not much had changed since then, and when I greeted them in the foyer, a chorus of birthday wishes and friendly scolding for missing everything they'd planned filled my ears.

I walked amidst them as we headed toward the deck, keeping my eyes on the floor to avoid a repeat of a few minutes ago. I would have to pull myself together when the rest of Killian's family joined us, but I needed this moment to settle.

We sat around a round glass table, piled high with an unbelievable amount of food. Most unbelievably was that Killian had manned the grill without turning everything into charcoal. My stomach rumbled at the sight and smell of the spread, and I couldn't stop myself from snatching an arepa as Rey brought brought the tray out.

"Don't you have any manners?" Her tone was full of judgment, far bigger than any 13 year old should be capable of.

"No," I said around a mouthful, "you should already know this."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes before sinking into the open seat between Killian and Ezra. Of course she'd left the final open seat next to me, to be gracefully taken by the gorgeous nightmare who had just walked out with a bottle of white wine in one hand and a gift box in the other. I was immediately bathed in the woody vanilla scent of her perfume.

"I prefer a red, if I'm being honest," I said through a forced smile, funneling every ounce of discomfort and raising tension into the expression.

"Good thing it isn't for you. Here-" she set the box in front of me, her arm grazing mine for the briefest of electrifying moments. My skin bristled with goosebumps and my mind went hazy. I was vaguely aware she continued speaking, but none of it registered until her hand rested on the back of mine, "Valentino?"

My eyes shot toward her, widened like I'd just been scolded. "What's up, Ma?"

Her gaze trailed across my face, holding a moment on my chest before landing where her hand touched mine. Her eyes shot back up to mine as she pulled her hand back. She saw something. She knows. She knows.

I tore into the box without thinking, idly glancing at the small paper tag signed "To Val, From The Boys". Inside were a few separate little parcels, each carefully wrapped in tissue paper with it's own tag with an expertly penned name, obviously Naomi's contribution.