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Now, I’m sure he did, because he’s a sadistic thief.
The tame blue that used to lighten up upon seeing me is now darkening to a sinister colour.
To say Xander is beautiful would be an understatement of not only the century but of the entire common era. It’s not just because of his put-together blond look – his face belongs to models, gods, and general immortals. It’s sharp-cut with a slight stubble that adds to his charm.
Like everyone at school, I used to see that beauty. I used to stop at the step of my house and pinch myself, chanting that he’s indeed my friend – my knight – and he’s calling me over to play together.
Now, I see someone completely different. I see vindictiveness, hate, a war god out to destroy.
He used to be my best friend. Now, he’s a stranger.
A bully.
An enemy.
The boy Xander just shooed away bows his head and retreats around the corner. Being part of the horsemen, Elites’ ace striker, and the son of a minister gives him the right to a crown, one that’s crowded with thorns and black smoke.
Still, everyone around here bows down to his authority. If he’d asked that boy to crawl, he would’ve dropped to the ground without asking questions.
Xander twirls a football on his forefinger, his other hand in his trousers’ pocket as he stalks towards me with steady, purposeful strides. I keep my gaze on him, watching his every movement and struggling to suck air into my lungs. I don’t know why I think he’ll push me away, or rather, kick me down.
Not that it’d be something new. Worse has been done to me during my years of bullying – fat-shaming remarks, spilling of paint, mocking confessions, all of it.
It’s stupid to think Xan would touch me. He never has.
Not even once.
The uniform’s blue jacket stretches over his wide shoulders and muscular chest. Everything about him is – muscular, I mean. Including his football thighs, especially his football thighs.
I don’t know when that happened. Okay, that’s a lie. The development of his physique started exactly in the summer between Royal Elite Junior – our previous school – and Royal Elite School.
Disclaim
er, I notice a lot of things around me. It’s not only about him. Ever since I realised my mum wouldn’t stand up for me and I’d have to do it on my own, I’ve learnt a lot of survival methods. The most important of all: being aware of my surroundings.
Whether I like it or not, Xander has always been a part of my immediate environment and he’ll continue to be until the end of this year. Then, when I’m out of this city, everything will be over.
Breathe in. Just a few more months. Breathe out.
“Are you waiting for an invitation? Scarce, Berly.”
His voice is light, but there’s nothing light about his undertone. I know he didn’t tell the boy to disappear for my sake. Xander doesn’t stand up for me, and he sure as hell doesn’t tell others off on my behalf.
If it were the old me, I would’ve bowed my head and run away crying, and his mocking laughter would’ve followed me as I sniffled in dark corners, not wanting others to witness my shame.
However, something’s changed.
Me.
I’ve changed.
Ever since I woke up and found Kir hugging me and bawling, I’ve come to an important conclusion. If I want to survive in this world, if I want to stay with my baby brother and save him from our mum, then I have to take my life into my own hands.
I’m done playing a secondary role in my own tale.
Done letting the likes of Xander Knight walk all over me.
Done crying in corners like a damn coward.
