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“Testy.” He says, tsk-tsking.
I say nothing and we stand in silence as we dig into our food. Phoenix walks in a few minutes later, clearly annoyed. He throws his backpack across the room and it skids across and off the other side of the kitchen table, hitting a statue stand and sending it hurtling towards the ground. It hits the floor and shatters into hundreds of pieces.
“Fuck!” He says, a black haze in his eyes.
“You alright?” Rhys asks him between bites, staring at the scene nonchalantly. This is a typical night in our house. It’s a mansion but somehow still not big enough to contain all the rage living in it with the three of us.
“She’s in almost all of my classes. She’s everywhere I look, having the nerve to look all innocent and doe eyed when I know she’s anything but. She’s fooling them all.”
Phoenix has had this obsession with Sixtine since we all met when we were eight. She betrayed him a little over a year later, around the same time my mom disappeared, before she moved to Hong Kong with her parents. He hasn’t been the same since, his heart sounding just as hollow as mine. Except his comes to life when he spars with her.
He’d never admit it though, that’s why it’s a sadistic part of my game to mess with him sometimes. “Mhmm, she did look really hot today. The way her t-shirt was pulled tights against her tits.” I fake groan. “I couldn’t peel my eyes off her.”
He’s on me in less than two strides, his fist connecting with my cheek with a loud crack. “Find a way to peel them off her permanently.” He threatens, his voice a guarantee. “Or I’ll carve your eyes out with a grapefruit spoon and consider it a problem well solved.”
“Careful, there.” Rhys chimes in. “A casual observer would think you were possessive of her.”
“A casual observer could get himself killed for that kind of stupid thinking.” He says, his upper lip twitching in anger.
Rhys throws his hands up innocently. “Take it easy on Royal. He just got an update from Müller. Nothing.” He says, shaking his head.
Phoenix knows the importance of this search to me, even though we’ve never openly talked about it. He understands my need for answers. “Sorry, mate. That sucks.”
He grabs a couple beers from the fridge and throws one my way. I catch it out of mid air and use my teeth to pry it open, before spitting out the cap and taking a long drag.
“Arsenal vs Crystal Palace tonight. You guys want to watch?” Phoenix asks.
That’s how long conflict lasts between us. He punched me five minutes ago and now we’re drinking beer and about to put the match on. That’s the benefit of knowing each other this long. Truth is, Phoenix and Rhys are the only thing I have that resemble family and I know how fucked that sounds.
They’re my brothers, for better or worse. Most days I can’t stand the fuckers, but unfortunately I’d also probably take a bullet for either of them.
???
9.
Bellamy
I’m on the phone with my mom, sitting on my bed when my door slams open and Thayer walks in.
“B— oh hey, Trish!” She says when she sees my mom on FT. “Sorry to interrupt — you look gorgeous by the way — but I need to talk to Bellamy really quickly.”
My mom laughs happily. I’m sure she misses her as much as she misses me. “Go right ahead, hon.”
“What is it?”
She grasps my arm excitedly. “Okay, don’t say no.”
“Great start.”
“Please, I know you. Listen, there’s a party tonight and we’re going.”
I groan out loud, dropping down on my bed so I’m laying on my back. “Ugh, I don’t know. I really need to study.”
She grabs my hand and pulls me back up to a sitting position. “I’m not taking no for an answer, unfortunately. You’ve had a terrible week and you need to go out and have fun, not shove your head deeper into a dusty old book. No disrespect to books of course, they’re my first love. But tonight, I’m cheating on them with my second love. Tequila.” She says and starts swaying her hips seductively to an imaginary track.
“Wait, who had a horrible week?” My mom chimes in, a frown pulling at her brow. “Bellamy said everything was going really well.”
I widen my eyes exaggeratedly at Thayer in a universal sign to shut the fuck up. I hadn’t wanted to worry my mother by regaling her with tales of my bullying so I’d just told her we’d made a few friends (true, although they’re our roommates) and were staying out of drama (untrue, but also not our fault). She catches on straight away and immediately begins damage control.
