Donovan King is the impossible. He's the kind of boy that runs with the lions in the daytime and howls with the wolves at night. He's a god in a place where gods dare not roam, with wings of chipped gold and sterling silver.
He's the king of his ver...
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III
a r i a
MAKO SAYUMI SAT ON A bar stool and munched contently on a granola bar. She reminded me of a 3-year-old, twisting and turning in the chair to make herself spin. She watched me work as I cleaned tables and served customers as quickly as possible, not saying anything but making for good company.
She watched as I sent dishes to the sink and took orders. She never said a word but I knew she didn't mind visiting me from time to time, even if it was just to observe.
My mind raced with thoughts of Donovan and what he'd said at school, unsure of how to feel or what to make of our conversation, if you could even call it that.
I thought about it so much that I just convinced myself it was a trick, but it wasn't fair that he could do that. It wasn't fair that he thought he could get any girl he wanted, that he didn't have to try to get people to like him.
I guess that's what happens when you're rich, when you're the golden child in a school with a rusty reputation. He shone above everyone else, he lived up to everyone's expectations and he never disappointed.
I didn't trust him for the same reason everyone loved him. They loved him because they thought he was perfect, because he couldn't help but show the good side of him. The side that never ceased to amaze. I didn't trust him because I knew he wasn't perfect, but he lied to convince himself and everyone else that he was.
Maybe it was easier for him to live up to everyone else's expectations than to live up to his own. Maybe it took his mind off of himself, off of the rooftop across the street and the liquor that slid down his throat every once in a while.
I felt Mako's eyes shoot daggers my way as I hovered subconsciously over a table, staring at nothing in particular and utterly failing at doing my job.
"You okay Ari?" she finally said after minutes of dead silence.
Flustered, I grabbed all the empty cups and crumb-covered plates from the booth and made my way behind the counter, wiping the sweat off my brow. "I'm fine Mako. Just stressed, that's all."
She nodded her head once but being the friend she had for 8 years in a row, she didn't look convinced. "You don't look fine."
"Trust me, I'm as cool as a cucumber," I huffed. A strand of hair fell over my face and I blew it away, refusing to make eye contact with my best friend and swerving around her like I was dodging a bullet.
I told Mako everything, but for some reason I felt like I couldn't tell her this. It had to be the allure of friendship rules that made it feel so rebellious to keep a secret from her.
I hadn't told her about seeing Donovan on that rooftop either. I hadn't told anyone actually, not even him. He didn't need to know about it, it didn't seem like he'd care.
