A double update? Who even am I?
I looked horrible; I didn't need to be told that. Effort was the last thing on my mind that morning. All I could think about was getting through the school day and avoiding Mason as much as I possibly could.
"You look like shit," Annabella Versace pointed out. I groaned.
"Get in the car," I grumbled, climbing into the driver's seat. She was quiet for the remainder of the ride.
"What's up with you?" She asked when we arrived at the school parking lot. "You're making me worry."
Instead of responding, I left the car and began walking toward the front entrance; I didn't care if she was following or not. I didn't care about anything. Her voice followed me, calling my name, but I let myself get lost in the crowd, becoming just another blank face in a group of hundreds.
The first bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. I desperately wanted to skip first period, but what was the point? One way or another, I would have to face Mason eventually. I just had to hope that I wouldn't shatter in his presence; or worse. If when I saw him, I gave into what had to be the strongest temptation I would ever face—if I crumbled and asked for him back, if I got him killed. . .
I couldn't promise myself that neither of those would happen—that I would be strong when I saw his face. I could only hope for the best and brace myself.
So I did. I walked tensely into my art class, half ready to turn on my heels and run back out. When Mason locked eyes with me, I almost did. My feet, however, instead seemed to freeze against the tile floor, and I was stuck.
He looked horrible, worse than me. His skin, usually sun-kissed and practically glowing, was almost ashen in color. Dark shadows circled his eyes. Even his hair seemed somewhat lifeless, falling dull and limp over his forehead.
His eyes, though sad and grey, sparkled with something as he looked at me. A desperate question that I couldn't answer.
Marcella followed Mason's gaze and shot me a look like what the hell did you do? I looked away guiltily.
"Kieran, get to your seat," Mrs. Gotham instructed.
I met her glaring eyes and asked if I could switch seats. She seemed surprised by my sudden request, along with the forty-one students that were shamelessly staring at me. Maybe she saw the plead in my gaze, or maybe she just wanted to stop wasting class time, but either way, she nodded and said, "Pick a seat."
I glanced over the room, avoiding the table in the back where Marcella and Mason sat, watching me intently. There were only a few available spaces, and none of them were near anybody I knew. Then again, I knew like four people, half of whom I was avoiding.
Eventually, I chose a random spot across from two freshmen, who paled significantly when I sat down. It was moments like this when I wondered what exactly people had to think of me to react in such a way. Sure, I wasn't the nicest person, and I didn't try to be. I was known for being snappy and brutally honest to people that weren't my friends. But I'd never done anything to anyone. I'd never hurt or bullied or harassed anybody. Yet students acted as if I was Medusa, and making eye contact with me would turn them to stone. What kind of rumors had been flying around in the years I'd been in school, and how dark was my reputation really?
It wasn't a matter that had bothered me before, because I had Marcella, and for a long time, her opinion was the only one that mattered. Then there was Mason, and Maria, and Annabella. Somehow, I'd gone from somebody that only thought I needed one friend, to a part of a great support system.
Now, though, I felt more isolated than ever. I couldn't help but feel like this breakup would tear my friendships apart, and not because of anything that they did. I would push them away—I did it this morning with Annabella, and just now with Marcella. I didn't want to talk to anybody, or answer any questions, or be a part of anything. I wanted to be alone, but I didn't want to be alone.
Needless to say, the remainder of the class period was perpetually awkward. The freshmen seemed almost afraid to talk in my presence, as if I would do something horrible if they spoke. To make matters worse, I felt eyes on my back nearly the entire time, and it was all I could do to not get up and flee. The bell couldn't come fast enough.
I rushed into the hallway, hoping to disappear into the crowd before Mason or Marcella could stop me. No such luck; Mason's hand gripped my wrist, and he fell into pace next to me. "Kieran, can we talk about this?" He pleaded.
"We can't," I said, staring straight ahead. I needed to get out of the situation as soon as possible, because I knew that he would try his best to persuade me. If I let him, I wouldn't stand a chance.
"I feel sick," he said honestly, ignoring my words entirely. "Like a part of me is missing, and my body doesn't like the change. I could barely get out of bed yesterday. I look terrible, and so do you. This is wrong. It has to be, you know it does."
"Maybe," I responded shakily. Just being this close to him was driving me crazy. My body was freaking out in a million different places, as if I'd taken an addictive drug after a long withdrawal, and it didn't feel good at all. Too much was going on inside me, and it made me want to throw up. "But it's what has to happen. I'm not going back again, Mason. Not after. . ."
Mason planted his feet in the middle of the hallway, forcing me to stop and earning both curses and stared from passing students. "What happened is over. Look at me! I'm fine! Well I'm not fine, clearly, but I'm all healed. I'm alive. And it's not like it'll happen again."
"What makes you think for a second that it won't?" I said darkly. "He's still out there."
Mason ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "He got busted, Kieran! He's out of the picture!"
He still didn't get it. After everything that happened, he didn't see Cedric as a serious threat. It was so overwhelmingly frustrating, I snapped.
"If you believe that, you're a fucking idiot, Mason Kane."
Instantly, I regretted my harsh tone. Mason's entire expression seemed to darken, and his eyes narrowed. He let go of my wrist.
"I may be an idiot," he said lowly, "But at least I'm no coward."
I half wanted to apologize and half wanted to roll my eyes. "Call me what you want," I sighed. "Think what you want. I'm the one keeping us both alive."
Then, to my surprise, he nodded bitterly and said, "Okay."
I blinked, expecting him to add more, but he shrugged and said nothing. I could feel people watching us, as if we were a drama displayed for their entertainment. "Okay?"
"Yeah, okay," Mason repeated. The calm tone of his voice didn't mask the anger in his eyes. "It's starting to seem like all I've ever done is chase you, since day one. And it's fucking exhausting."
"Then give it up!" I half-whispered, half- exclaimed. I could see hurt glimmer in Mason's expression as I said it, and I was stung again by regret. This wasn't how I thought we would end.
"If that's what you want, then so be it."
I shook my head. "None of this is about what I want—"
The final bell rang, leaving the hallway empty except for Mason and I.
"I'll see you around, Kieran." And he walked away.
***
Marcella hounded me with questions, but I didn't offer much response. I didn't want to talk about what happened. I didn't want to talk about anything. I was absolutely miserable. After a while, she stopped asking.
I ate lunch in the library that day. When seventh period came around, I chose again to change my seat. And when the last bell of the day ran, I was the first one out.
I wanted to be left alone when I got home, but Annabella followed me all the way from my car to my bedroom. When I asked her to leave, she refused. She sat on my bed and patted the space next to her, and I didn't see much choice other than to obey.
"I'm not here to ask you questions," she promised.
"Then why are you here?" I groaned. "I don't want the company."
"Maybe, but you need it."
I rolled my eyes, but lay back against the pillows with a shrug. "If you want to waste your time, go ahead."
Annabella sighed. "Kieran. . ."
"Ah ah ah," I interrupted, holding up a finger to silence her. "You said no questions."
"I know," she said. "I'm not asking questions. But I will give you my two cents. You're being a tool."
"So this is where you leave. . ."
"And if you keep being so closed off, you're going to lose the few people in this world who put up with you."
I felt anger bubble in my chest. She had no idea what kind of shit I was dealing with. "Can you get out?" I snapped. Annabella didn't move, and I turned to glare at her. "I'm serious."
I could tell she was surprised by my outburst, but she tried to hide it. "Chill, I'm just saying. You can't expect me to empathize with you if you don't tell me what's happening."
"That counts as a question."
Annabella groaned, putting her head in her hands. "Why are you being so difficult, Kieran?"
"That's a question, too."
I knew that I was being stubborn just to be stubborn at this point, but I felt too shitty to mind. Whether Annabella Versace got mad at me was the least of my worries. Honestly, she could tell me she hates me right now, and I would just shrug it off. All I could think, even as we spoke, was Mason, Mason, Mason. At that very moment, I felt far too empty to care much about anything else.
Annabella sighed again. "Fine. No questions about your trouble in paradise. No questions at all. No talking at all. But we are gonna cuddle."
"No we're not."
"Yes we are."
"No we're not."
"Yes we are."
"Yes we are," I conceded finally, because a cuddle did sound kind of nice. . .it wouldn't fill the hole in my chest, but it was a start.
She grinned triumphantly and wrapped a thin arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I rested my head on her chest and snuggled against her side, and for a while, it was kind of nice. We were quiet, and in the serenity of the moment, my mind went through all of the moments like this I'd shared with Mason. He loved physical contact, and we spent countless minutes just like this, cuddling. The memory was so melancholy, tears pooled in my eyes.
I didn't make any noise, but Annabella must have realized I was crying, because her hand rubbed soothingly up and down my back. It was weird—I'd never been much of a crier before Mason. As tough and sad and frustrating as life could be, tears rarely ever came to me. I coped with indifference, not sadness. Now it seemed like I was crying every day, and maybe I would be for a while.
I hated it. I felt weak and stupid and lame. I didn't fight it, though, because I knew I couldn't, and there was no point in hiding. So I just lay there, with tears slowly escaping my eyes, sniffling every once and a while.
Of course, the quiet couldn't last forever. The sound of a fist tapping softly against my bedroom door destroyed the moment. Before I could call out "Go away," the door was pushed open, and my father stepped inside. Judging by his troubled expression, he wasn't here to have a nice chat.
His eyes landed on Annabella, widening ever-so-slightly in surprise. "Oh, hello, Annabella. I wasn't expecting you here. . ."
Annabella shrugged. "Kieran's in a shitty mood so I'm forcing my presence on him in a failing attempt to make him feel better."
My father chuckled, but he frowned when he saw my wet cheeks. "You've always been blunt, Versace. Just like your father. I'll admit, I want to speak to Kieran alone. Give us some space for a few minutes?"
"I'd rather not."
My father blinked several times, obviously not expecting her blatant refusal. Saying "no" to the chief was quite the taboo. "Excuse me?"
Annabella smiled sweetly at my father. "I want to hear it. I hate being out of the loop."
I could tell she meant no malice. She respected my father—they were actually pretty close. She was like a niece to him. But she was also nosy and stubborn and not afraid to defy authority.
"Annabella, this is a private matter," my father insisted. "Not really your business."
She pouted her lips pleadingly. "C'mon, Callisto. I'm sure it's nothing I can't know. I won't gossip a bit."
"Annabella. . ." my father said crossly.
"Ask Kieran what he thinks."
My father glared at her, but there was amusement behind his eyes. "Fine. Kieran, do you want her to stay?"
"Depends. What are we talking about?"
"I think you can guess."
He was right, I could. "Yeah, whatever. She can stay."
My father nodded and raised an eyebrow at Annabella. "You know you're terribly annoying, right?"
Annabella smirked. "You love me."
My father rolled his eyes and stepped farther into the room, sitting at the edge of the bed. He trained his gaze on me. "First off, how are you doing?"
I snorted. "How do I look like I'm doing?"
He pursed his lips, pondering what to say. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked finally, ending a rather awkward minute of silence.
That was certainly not a question I wanted to answer, but I groaned reluctantly and said, "I couldn't."
My father waited for me to elaborate, but I stubbornly stayed quiet. After several long seconds, he repeated the question. The scolding tone of his voice told me that I wouldn't be able to stall for long.
"He threatened me," I admitted at last. "Said he'd hurt—kill—Mason either way."
Annabella nodded affirmatively beside me. This much, she knew.
A shadow passed over my father's face, and he ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "I never guessed the situation would become so grave. Cedric. . .he's out of control. Words are one thing. To physically attack someone is—"
"He what?" Understanding, surprise, and anger all crossed Annabella's face at once. "That's what happened?"
My father nodded gravely. "Unfortunately, yes. Stabbed him with a silver knife."
Annabella was a somewhat frightening display of confusion and anger. Her eyes were glowing, her face was twisted into a heated glare directed at no one, and her posture reminded me of a cat preparing to pounce. "Then why the fuck did I see him walk downstairs to get a drink yesterday? That son of a bitch should be behind bars!" She exclaimed.
"Watch your mouth," my father warned, narrowing his eyes at her. She subdued, if only slightly, but I could tell that she was a ticking bomb itching to go off. "We can't simply throw him in jail."
"Why the hell not?!" she demanded furiously.
"He'd escape all too easily," my father explained. Annabella's gaze hardened.
"That is such a bullshit cop out!" She argued. "We all know that there's somewhere out there that would hold him!"
My father pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled through his mouth. "Annabella," he grumbled. "He hasn't gone unpunished. He has no phone, no laptop. . .we searched his room, destroyed his entire. . .collection. He's lost his position as my successor—which, by the way, we need to talk about, Kieran. He can't leave the forest. It's the best I can do."
I tried to ignore the feeling of my stomach dropping as I realized that now I would be in charge of this clan when my father passed or stepped down. That put a lot of responsibility on my shoulders all at once.
Annabella, however, hadn't even noticed that part. She was fuming, demanding over and over why Cedric was getting off so easy. My poor dad looked like he was aging a year with every shouted word.
"Calm down," he commanded; she didn't. She kept going on and on, talking so fast that some of her words blurred together. "Calm down!" My father said more firmly, and it was almost comical how quick she shut her mouth. Even she wouldn't push him too far. "You need to be mature, Annabella. These sorts of disputes have been going on between our kind and theirs for centuries. If werewolves and vampires were locked up every time they attacked one another, there would be few of us left."
"So we're supposed to just let him roam free after attempted murder because it's the norm?" Annabella snapped, though she spoke considerably quieter than before.
My father glared at her crossly. "He is not roaming free. He is under house arrest. He has been punished. You may not understand, but I'm not asking you to. There are mature, logical grown-ups for that."
He glanced at me and gave me a look that said, we'll talk about the chief matter another time. With one last dismissing—and rather aggravated—nod, he left my bedroom, leaving me alone with a very upset teenage girl and a lot of things on my mind.