I drop the phone on the counter. It’s the writing in red that mocks me because my reflection is behind it. My fist comes up, smashing the mirror until it shatters. I did this. When I said I destroy everything I touch, I meant it. I never understood that I’d keep doing it to her over and over.
It’ll take a miracle for her to forgive me. If she ever does, because I’m not done hurting her. It’s what I do. Get a taste, a glimpse of her then rip it to shreds. At what point will she be too broken to put back together? Because so far, I’ve only made the destruction worse. Nevertheless, I want to run straight to her even if she’s right about us being doomed from the beginning. And I can’t do a fucking thing about it for an entire day.
I yank the curtains closed. There has to be a barrier there or I’ll check for her every chance I have. It’s what I’ve done since she moved in.
Hours later, I haven’t moved from the spot when I hear yelling. I don’t even give a damn what they’re fighting about.
The door swings open and Brooke marches into the room. “Tell him it’s not true,” she screams as I note Micah behind her.
“He has to obey you, not me,” I state.
“No, Luca. Explain to him that I never slept with you. Your father saw us talking and then Remy convinced him that you fucked me, and I went along because I couldn’t tell you two apart. The bastard is trying to play all of us against each other because that would upset Ivy too.”
No, it wouldn’t. Doubt it’d faze her at all. “Not my problem.”
Brooke stomps her foot, and points towards the backyard. “If you don’t admit the truth, I’ll tell Ivy every single thing you’ve asked me to do to manipulate her.”
“Go ahead.” I’m pretty sure Ivy is at her max as far as loathing me goes. At least that way she’d have a reason to come and scream at me. I could handle that. Vanishing is worse.
“Luca.” Her earsplitting shriek is making my head hurt.
When I look at Micah, I say, “He won’t believe me either way, but here goes: No, Micah, I haven’t screwed Brooke. She never sucked my dick or whatever else Remy said. He’s playing the two of you against each other. It’s easy when he knows your weakness.”
“So convincing,” Brooke proclaims, but I’m sure Micah discerns the truth. I could’ve gone along with Remy’s lies to fuck with his head, but I don’t want to.
“But see, I didn’t sleep with him,” Brooke implores Micah. “Why would I when I have your multiple personalities to keep me occupied while we play this godforsaken game? Besides, the mistaken identity should’ve clued you in immediately. I’ve always been able to tell you two idiots apart.”
She’s right. She hasn’t ever confused us, unlike almost everyone else we know besides Ivy and a handful of people.
“Where is Ivy? It’s her turn, right?”
“Yes. I’m guessing she went home.”
Brooke has a soft pitch for the first time since she arrived. “Guessing it didn’t go well.”
I don’t respond, and she continues with more bossiness, “Why can’t the two of you”—she motions from me to my brother—“get your heads out of your asses?”
Micah asks as she leaves, “Is that a literal request so it can be in yours?” It’s clear he’s pleased by the fact I’m miserable as he gestures to my hand. “You should probably get that stitched up.”
I don’t look down until he’s out of the room to find dried blood covering my knuckles.
Hurt. Pain. Misery. That’s all I know and it’s all I know how to inflict. It’s the only thing I’m good at.
56
IVY
I need to sleep but refuse to close my eyes. I don’t want to see her again. Just as I’m about to drift off, my door swings open, slamming against the wall.
“Where did you get these from,” Dad waves the Polaroids around. “Who the fuck gave these to you?”
“I-I… They—” The words get stuck in my throat as I view Zachary in the doorway.
“Give them here.” I try to grab them, but Dad keeps them out of my reach.
“I want to know where you got them from this instant.”
“What is it?” Zachary asks as he stands on his tippy-toes to look.
