21
LUCA
As soon as I steer into my driveway, I spot Brooke propped against her car.
I pull into my spot in the garage and before I’m out the door, she’s there. Her eyes swollen and red. “What the hell, Luca? That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Neither was having her join Micah’s fucking team.”
“That’s not my fault, Luca. You asked me to get her to the fight. I did. You asked me to get her to the fairgrounds. I did that too. So, we’re even now. I can’t control who she teams up with. Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking lunatic, she wouldn’t despise you so much.” There’re a few moments of calm before she quietly says, “You’re going to hold it over my head forever.”
“No, I won’t. You have my word.”
“Yeah. Because you’re so honest.” She folds her arms over her chest, looking away as she asks, “Would you have really done it?”
I tell her the truth. “Yes.” I would’ve done whatever necessary to make sure she wasn’t bound to Micah.
Brooke wipes her hand across her cheek. “You really are a monster, Luca.”
“You already knew that. Anything else?”
She swipes the back of her hand across her face as she lets out a huff. “Yes. You just showed Micah exactly where your weakness is. And since he’s a monster just like you, hewilluse her against you.”
“Agreed.” I knew it before she spoke it aloud. But hearing it from someone who knows Micah makes it even more unnerving. As soon as I made the decision to expose his weakness and risked making a destructive choice, I made it clear to my brother exactly how much I didn’t want Ivy near him. And he will use it to his advantage. He already has.
22
IVY
The worst part of my day is here. Seventh period. But at least the week is over, and it’s been mostly quiet. Even Brooke has kept to herself. Almost too much. Her peppiness is low, and she always seems to be distracted. Yet this morning, she fit the part of cheerleader on the exterior in her uniform, but her usual peppiness wasn’t present. Even now as she approaches me, her rosiness is barely there as she asks, “Are you going to Willowbrook’s football game tonight?”
“Yes. Planning to.” Only because Everett has messaged me about fifty times today asking if I was still going.
“You know we play against each other next month, right?”
“Yeah. I know.” Historically, Belgrave has won the majority of their matchups, and every time Everett complains about their unfair advantage with their fancy equipment or their alumni having connections to the professional league. And now I’m part of that enemy team.
She bends down to tie her tennis shoe and that’s when I notice the bruise across her lower back.
“What happened?”
She quickly stands and tugs her shell down. “Clumsy me fell at cheer yesterday.”
The lie makes me want to choke someone. “Did Luca do it? Or Micah?”
“No, no,” she declares quickly and shakes her head. “Seriously, I just lost my balance.”
“Yeah. My mom would fall a lot when my dad was drinking.” I state, watching her reaction before she turns her face away and I continue, “Was it your dad or mom?”
She mutters, “I fell. That was it. So, drop it.”
I don’t push her or follow as she walks away. Obviously, she isn’t ready to say anything, but there’s something going on. She may annoy me more than I can admit, but she doesn’t deserve that. No one does.
Heading to the natatorium, I take my spot on the bleachers. For a few moments, I replay the conversation, unable to shake it before I pull out my phone and scroll through Brooke’s Insta. Every photo is her smiling and happy. Even the one she posted this morning was a cheery facade with Cain beside her in a Belgrave jersey. Completely different from the person that I had a talk with.
Is anyone here real? Or is everyone putting on a show?
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I use my backpack as a pillow and lie across the bench. It feels like I’ve just shut my eyes and dozed off when I hear Coach yell, “Walker, wake up. Time for the pep rally. Let’s go.”
