Avery Turner, a perfectionist with a double life, and Kyran Drake, a charismatic boy with secrets, find their fates intertwined when their secrets threaten to unravel their dreams-will they overcome their differences to protect their futures, or wil...
Maybe there was something seriously wrong with me, and that was why sustaining relationships was so difficult. I considered it a viable reason behind why and how I managed to mess up every single friendship or familial relationship I've ever had—only to be sidelined and often left on the side of the ditch in pain.
I used to think my mom was the problem in everything—that she, my sister, and my entire family decided I was the black sheep, the odd one out, the charmless one. But now, after everything, after Kyran Drake, I was starting to realize they were right. I was so concerned about how amazing I was that I failed to see what was in front of me.
Maybe that's why I ended up like this. After Eliza's breakdown, she was in her room, seemingly fine, but it's the Turner family thing. Pretending that everything was fine on the outside, even though we were dying inside. It seemed like I had more in common with Eliza than I thought.
I wanted to ask her if she was alright, but if I read the situation correctly, that would hurt Eliza even more. The last person she needed to see was me, and the last thing she needed was a talk on how my life was shittier than hers.
Even if my life felt like shit, it was probably on the same level of shit as hers. Or maybe not. But did that really matter?
I got the brunt of the consequences in this situation, though I was used to it.
"I don't know what lies you've been spewing to your sister," she said, way too calmly, "I don't want you talking to her leisurely again."
How fabulous. I was the problem, once again.
"I didn't say anything to her." I hyper fixated on the clock on the wall, staring at the quiet tick-tock of its hands, wishing they could fast forward through this conversation. The room felt stifling, almost suffocating me while the light lavender scent from a diffuser on the shelf added to the pain.
"Don't lie to me." My mom's voice was sharper now, her way of saying, 'Stop arguing with me!' "You always have something to say, and it's affecting Eliza's mind."
Her words stung, and I bit my tongue, but I'd already reached a point of numbness. Arguing would only make things worse. Instead, I nodded silently, the urge to defend myself battling with the exhaustion of years of silence. The clock's ticks got even louder.
"I don't understand why you always have to cause trouble," she continued, shaking her head. "Your sister needs your support, not more drama."
The unfairness almost made me laugh. Drama. I loved that she was acting like I thrived on it, as if I went out and sought drama to ruin Eliza's life. But whatever, my mom was never going to learn.
