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No change in Aria with the first snap, so Aurora steps into her face and blocks her view of anything beyond her blonde hair and my worried as hell gaze.
“Ari, what’s going on?” I hold her close when Aria shakes, her wavy sex hair falling around her shoulders. Purely distraught when she looks from me to Aurora, lashes nearly touching her brows, her breathing speeds like she’s on the verge of a panic attack.
She whispers something I don’t hear because the place is so damn loud, Jonathon screaming in excitement right next to us as if nothing is going on. It’s a complete contrast to what I feel right now.
“What?” Her sister and I both ask. We exchange a worried look when it takes her a second to repeat it.
“It’s fuckinghim.”
“What?” She must’ve lost her marbles when she danced. That’s the only explanation I have for the way she’s acting so unlike herself.
Wait ….
I must wear my confusion as much as Aurora when I look between the two for answers I know she doesn’t have.
Finally, I drag my eyes to the stage behind Aurora, catching sight of the lead fucking singer belting out a record-worthy notewhen it clicks.
Rex.
Fucking Rex motherfucking Thompson.
Son of a bitch!
Blinding, red-hot rage fills me as I watch on. I grip my best friend to my side and give myself a moment to seethe in her honor since I know she won’t.
“Likehimhim?” Aurora questions, her own panic setting in at seeing her sister’s reaction.
Not to mention the damn guilt.
I see it cross her features, as much as I feel it in my chest. She looks to me with a pulsing chest and a wild look when Aria confirms the suspicion, her gaze locked back on the stage when the song changes and the lights come down.
“Yeah.Him him.Rex.”
Hearing the name alone has my spine tingling and my fists clenching.
This fucker rocked my girl’s world for a night, which she fucking loved. We heard how much thanks to the brother answering our desperate phone calls when she went radio silent for too long. Then he destroyed everything the next day. Left it just like a mom abandons the fry she dropped in the car that finds its way under the seat of her soccer-mom van.
To turn crusty and hard, only to be found ten years later when the car gets cleaned out before it’s sold.
Mother fucking fucker.
“I’m ok,” Aria claims, her voice stronger than a moment ago, the stage lights highlighting her face. But she wasn’t ok the last time she saw this guy. And she’s not ok now, no matter how much she pretends to be.
I saw her battle the illness right alongside Chip. Watched it destroy everything she knew.
Right now? She looks fucking worse.
Music stops and Rex’s voice fills the venue, echoing off the walls and drilling into my brain through my ears like the lobotomy I would rather be getting.
“We got some new shit.” The place explodes with noise, something I would have joined in on five minutes ago, and Rex repeats his statement to entice the people here watching on.
I hate that I hate him right now.
But girl code suggests I should demand a refund on my tickets and leave right now. Maybe go egg his car and TP his house.
Set alight a bag of dookie right on his fucking porch.
“So, I recently went through a thing,” Rex announces, his comments commanding the attention of the room, including the hotheaded me and my tribe.
