“Otherwise occupied.”
“Looked like someone was cleaning out her room when I walked by.”
I move to the window, glancing at the quad below. “Oh, look. Dahlia’s chatting with Mariel. Weren’t you two—”
“She’s what?” Wilder pushes me aside as I chuckle, elbowing me in the ribs as he turns.
“Yeah, funny guy. You know, if either of you two losers need any tips, I’m here for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll put that on the bottom of a very, very, very long list.”
The bell for first period goes and I pad downstairs, heading for English. Wilder has a free period, which translates to him probably texting another girl to join him for the next hour. Zane follows me, splitting off to go to chemistry where he has a secret project to reproduce the explosives, we used on the night…
But that’s the night I’m not thinking about. Along with all the nights since.
Today is a new day. Ground zero. A return to the status quo of being a single man.
A status that lasts until I push open the door, scanning the class for an empty desk.
Instead, my gaze catches on Evie.
She sits in the same seat as usual, an empty space beside her left open for me. Her hair is up, caught in a messy ponytail, a style I’ve never seen her wear before.
Exposing the collar I bought her, once again wrapped tightly around her tiny neck.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
EVIE
I playedout this scene a thousand times in my head the past few nights instead of sleeping. But the reality of Maddox’s cold rage still eclipses anything I conjured alone. When he levels a glare at me, every hair on my body stands on end and my chest gives a sickening pull like an abscess is where my heart should be.
But while my body flinches, my eyes feast on the sight of him, cataloguing the new shadows on his face, the hard clench of his jaw, the slight dishevelment of his third button not entirely through the hole; an oversight my fingertips itch to correct.
I miss him.
Even with Ant cajoling me into good humour, I feel like a limb’s disappeared. A dozen times a day I’ll hear a phantom noise and turn, disappointed when Maddox isn’t there.
He held my hand so often while walking these hallways, my palm throbs as I stride through them alone.
It would be so easy to reflect the anger straight back at him, but I can’t blame him for giving up on us, not when I’d just done the same out of fear.
I took his dad’s money and Maddox took his bait.
But during that terrible and glorious last day, he showed me who he was, and I let go of my darkest secrets. He’s my family, whether or not he’s with me. I can’t force him to open his heart and share his burdens, but I can show that I’m here, waiting and hoping he’ll play catch up at some stage.
My hands shake as I face forward, trying my hardest not to glance in his direction.
Maddox stands at the door, staring for so long that I think he’ll turn around and leave. Then, as the teacher stirs, looking ready to ask questions, he stalks across the room and slumps into the neighbouring chair.
“Hey,” I say, but he ignores my greeting. No surprises there.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“English.”
He shakes his head, curling his lip then turning his attention to the teacher and keeping it focused on him for the rest of the lesson.
“You know, your father’s summary was very one-sided,” I say as we pack up, readying for our next class. “If you have time to sit during morning break, I can—”
