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ARIAH
June 20, 2023
Ariah,
I was hoping you and Owen would be back and this journal would no longer be necessary. Instead, I’m sitting at my desk writing you while the search for Owen hasn’t turned up shit. Every lead led to nowhere. Our ranks are filled with traitors, those loyal to Filiae Bellonae and Senator Baker. It’s why none of us have reached out. It’s not safe. We know two things:
1. Someone wants to take over the Fraternitas, and they’re using the Selection to gain what they believe is a major in, and;
2. Your life is in danger.
So, even though it’s been too long since you were in my arms—my forever girl. For now, it’s better for you to believe we don’t want you.
Our hope is that we only have to cause you temporary pain. Something we’ll gladly spend the rest of our lives making it up to you.
Wes
Song: If I Would’ve Known- Kyle Hume
Iwant to rage at the words on the page. Owen was missing, and no one wanted me to know for my safety. Why does everyone try to treat me like antique porcelain? I won’t crumble into dust at a soft breeze.
Throwing the covers off my legs, I head to the bathroom, shower, dress, and pull out my floor mat. I need to release the anxious energy coursing through my body.
Owen was fucking missing. The empty look in his eyes on the first day of classes catapults to the front of my mind.
Secrets abound. Everyone is hiding something from me under the guise of protection.
Inhaling, I suck in a lungful of air through my nose and expel it out through my mouth. Then, I begin my stretches. With each roll of my head, I can feel the tightness between my shoulders loosen.
“My girl, what are you doing out of bed? Go find your zen under the covers, ” Shay chides, breaking my focus.
“I’m doing Tai Chi Chuan, bitch. You’re in a completely wrong country.”
She cuts her eyes at me. “Well, you can Namaste and stay inna yuh bed.”
“Once again, correct continent but wrong country,” I snort, shaking my head as she sits on my couch. “What are you doing here so early?” I ask, peering at the clock on my wall.
“I know Owen gave you their journal, and I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she states, wringing her wrists. Something she does when she’s nervous about something.
Pausing mid-stretch, I study her. There’s a furrow between her brows, and she’s gnawing her bottom lip. “What is it?”
Never one to mince words, Shay’s soft brown eyes lock with mine. “I knew the guys weren’t really with Samantha. Sebastian came to visit me while I was recovering.” She stands. “Don’t worry, I chewed him and all the guys a new asshole, but once I knew they had to choose that dutty hole gal in order to save Owen, I agreed not to tell you. We both know you would’ve never stayed away if you knew.”
The more she speaks, the wider my eyes open. She’s known. Why didn’t she tell me? Shay’s been at my side since the beginning. I open my mouth to get answers, but she holds up her index finger, signaling me to wait.
“I need to get this out. I know you have questions and probably feel betrayed, but Ry, I promise it’s not that. Just let me finish.”
Nodding, I plop down on my mattress and listen. She shares everything from the beginning. How much she’s known but couldn’t tell me. Shay’s father’s side of the family has been in Edgewood for a long time, but her mother is a transplant. Which means stricter rules govern them.
“I was on thin ice from everything I’d helped you with since moving here,” she confesses.
Massaging the knot in my left shoulder, I try to process everything she’s telling me. I don’t want to believe that the girl who’s become a sister to me only got close to me because she was ordered to. So much for lowering my stress. “Was any of it real?” I challenge, and her nose scrunches in confusion. “Our friendship,” I shout. “Was any of it real?”
Shay looks like I struck her in the heart, and I wait for her to snap back. Instead, she breathes, composing herself. “I know you’re hurting, and it feels like another betrayal from someone close to you?—”
“It doesn’t feel like it. It is like it,” I hiss, cutting her off. “Let me make sure I have this right. You sent me false leads when I was trying to discover the history of the Selection and withheld vital information not once, not twice. Fuck, not even three times. It’s happened so many times I've lost count.”
I shoot up from my bed and pace the length of my bedroom floor. You need to calm down. You can’t overstress, or they’ll put you back in the hospital. Remember the twins. A tear escapes, sliding down my cheek to my lips. The salty taste angers me even more. I’m so fucking emotional now. All this bullshit crying.
