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Fury courses through my veins, igniting a burning ball of rage in my chest. With the sweep of an arm, I send Luke’s gym bag flying to the floor. “What the hell did you just say?" My voice shakes with anger as he smiles smugly, trying to downplay the situation. As if he didn’t just outright insult me in front of the whole team.
The room falls silent and all eyes turn toward us. Tension hangs heavy in the air, everyone waiting for a fight to break out between Luke and me—best friends since grade school.
Luke snickers like this is some sort of joke. “I’m just messing with you, Rome. Chill out.”
He goes to pick up his bag, but I stomp it back down. A subtle growl climbs up my throat. “I don’t think you are. Say it, Luke. What the hell is on your mind?”
I look around at the crowd circling us. “Anyone else have anything to say about me not playing?” I raise my voice and pat my hands to my chest. “Give it to me! Let’s fucking hear it!”
No one says a damn thing. I shake my head as these idiots cower. “That’s what I thought.” Pushing my way through them, I head toward the open doors to the field. On my way out, I pass by another row of lockers and slam one of the open doors. It ricochets, popping back open like it’s laughing in my face. Before I’m even out of the locker room, the whispers begin.
I know what they’re all saying. He did this to himself. He fucked up and he’s the reason he’s on the bench the first four games. He’s also the reason UCLA rescinded their offer.
What they don’t know is, I didn’t do this to myself. She did this. And if it’s the last thing I do, I will make her pay.
“Dinner’s ready,” Celia calls out from the bottom of the stairs.
I’m not sure who this lady thinks she is coming in here and rearranging our lives. Not only is she forcing sit-down dinners, she also demoted Tina, our housekeeper, to part-time, only coming in once every two weeks to clean. She even had the audacity to tell Tina not to clean our rooms anymore because that should be our responsibility. What the actual fuck?
A knock at my bedroom door has me sighing heavily. “What do you want?”
Wilder opens the door, without permission to enter, and pops his head in. “You coming down?”
“Fuck that,” I grumble. “I’ll get something later.”
“It’s lasagna,” he sings. “Your favorite.”
“No,” I correct him. “My favorite was Mom’s lasagna. I’m not eating that woman’s shitty-ass meals.”
Wilder steps into the room and closes the door behind him. I turn to my side, giving him my back. “If you’re gonna try and lecture me, you can turn around and walk right back out.”
“Not a lecture,” he says. The mattress dips under his weight as he settles down at the edge of the bed. He slaps my ankle and I kick him. “Just give them a chance. They’re not that bad, Rome.”
“Nope.” I pop the P. “They’re strangers living in our house and I refuse to make them feel welcome. Especially the woman who’s trying to replace our mother.”
“You’re acting like a spoiled brat.”
I tsk. “Well, you can blame Mom and Dad for that.”
“They raised me, too, brother, and I still know how to show some respect.” I can hear the disappointment in his tone. I’m not sure why Wilder thinks he needs to father me all the time, but it’s getting old. He’s the same age as me, born on the same day, and while we may look different, we’re pretty much the exact same. He just hides his emotions better than I do.
I toss onto my back so I can see him. “They’re sucking you in, aren't they? You’re falling for their witchery?”
“I’m not sucked into, or falling for, anything. This is the first time I’ve seen Dad happy since Mom died. Don’t you want him to be happy?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, knowing he’s right. Ever since Mom died, he walked around with this gray cloud over his head. Now, it’s as if all he sees is sunshine when Celia is in the room. I just wish it didn’t have to be the mother of the girl who ruined me.
“Of course.” I huff out in a single breath. “Just not with her.”
“What has Celia done to make you think she’s trying to replace Mom?”
Here we go. Here comes the lecture.
“My problem isn’t Celia. It’s her daughters. One in particular.” I eye him, daring him to push me on this. He has no idea what she did, what she’s responsible for. Maybe I should tell him now. Surely it would have him on my side.
I can’t do that, though. There is power in being the only one that knows the hell she raised her first night in Willow Creek last year. I just haven’t figured out how to wield it quite yet.
“Lemme guess. Elodie?”
