I study her for a bit. “Why have you never liked Aiden, Aunt?”

She freezes with the backpack in her hand before she forces a smile, and I know, I just know that there’s something she’s not telling me. “I feel like he’s taking you away. You haven’t been the same since he came into your life.”

She can say that again.

“Wait a minute.” She sniffs the air and my breathing stops when she gets closer to inhale me.

“Is that… were you drinking?” She all but shrieks.

“It was only a glass, I promise.”

Her eyes blur with unshed tears and I feel as if someone jammed a knife into my heart. I don’t like making Aunt upset. What the hell is wrong with me?

“It won’t happen again,” I offer in a small voice. “I’m not even drunk.”

“What if your heart condition relapses? You know how hard we’ve worked to get you stabilised.”

“I-I’m sorry.” God. I feel like the most horrible person ever.

Aunt clutches me by the shoulders and pulls me inside to sit me on the sofa. “A few days ago, you were found drowning in a pool. Then you had an episode in the hospital and now you’re drinking? This isn’t you, Elsie. Tell me what’s going on.”

I want to know the truth. Tell me the truth, Aunt.

But I can’t say that, so I apologise one more time and promise her that it won’t happen again.

We eat dinner together and I try to ignore how she watches me as if I’ll have an episode any second now.

It’s at times like these that I wish Uncle Jaxon was around.

After helping out with the dishes — and Aunt making me drink some soup to chase away the alcohol — I go to my room.

I sit at my desk to work on some homework, but I end up slouching in my seat with a pen in my mouth.

Did the plan work?

Cole or Ronan are supposed to send a picture to Aiden that I ditched the party to go with Knox.

Would that ruin his mood or is he too busy with Silver to care?

Maybe he’s fucking her in his indoor pool as he did to me the other time. Maybe he has her spread-eagle as he eats her the way he devoured me.

My hold on the pen turns painful.

How could he move on with Silver when it’s barely been two days since we ended it?

Since I ended it.

The time frame doesn’t matter. I don’t have the right to question him anymore.

I groan and run a hand through my hair in frustration. I don’t care who he fucks.

Not one bit.

Giving up on homework, I snuggle in bed and pull out my phone.

My heart surges in its cavity at the two texts waiting.

Aiden: Let’s play that game you love so much, sweetheart.

Aiden: Be mine again or…

I refresh the page, searching for his next text, but there’s nothing.

He always offers two options. Where’s the other facet of the coin?

Then it hits me.

He sent those texts after school when he was leaving with Silver.

He wants me to be his again or he’d… what? Fuck Silver?

Is he going to send me a pornographic text of how he fucked her now?

Disgusted, I open Instagram. I unfollowed him the other day, but I search for him anyway.

His last post was after the night he attacked me in the middle of the night.

It’s a black and white picture of a chessboard with all the glass pieces scattered. There’s no caption and he posted the picture around five in the morning.

I scroll in the comments. There’s one from SilverQueens a few hours ago.

Can’t wait for 2nite. Xo.

I click on her profile and something in my heart dies.

Since they left together, I knew it was for this, but I kept telling myself that he wouldn’t do it.

Not after he promised he’d stay away from Silver.

On the picture Silver posted half an hour ago, there’s enough evidence to shut off my delusions.

There’s a selfie of Silver sitting at the edge of the pool, still in her uniform’s skirt. At first glance, she appears alone, but at the bottom corner of the picture, there’s a hand gripping her thigh.

Even if the hand isn’t clear, the pool is.

The same pool in which I felt special.

The same pool in which Aiden made me think that I could live past my fears and my traumas.

And now, he tainted it with Silver.

I throw the phone away and hide my face in the pillow as tears barge into my eyes.

I guess it’s really over now.

12

Aiden

I twirl a pawn chess piece between my index and middle finger as I stare out of the locker room’s window.

Both the football team and the girls’ track team are inside the changing rooms.

Elsa lingers back with their coach. She discreetly keeps herself the last to shower so none of her teammates sees her scar.

She spent her entire life hiding. And for what?

Finding her was never an option. It was always bound to happen.

I waited eight years to find her and if she thinks I’m letting her go now then she really doesn’t know me.

And here I thought she was beginning to understand me.

Until Jonathan and Queens screwed up everything.

I continue following her with my gaze even after she disappears inside the building with her coach.

Two years.

I’ve been watching her for two years, biding my time and waiting for the moment to strike.

I got close — so close — before everything blew up in smoke.

But I’ll fix it. I always do.

The battle is still the same. I just need different tactics.

Still clutching the pawn’s chess piece, I retrieve my phone and pull up the pictures Astor attached to the group chat a few days ago.

In one picture, Elsa is taking one shot — when she never drinks.

In the second, she’s climbing into the new boy’s car.

If Nash sent those pictures, I would’ve had a different theory. Nash becomes a little bitch when it comes to Queens. I knew he wouldn’t like me taking off with her, but I ignored his opinion.

However, this is Astor. He’s the most neutral person in our group. During parties, he’d be so busy with pussy, alcohol, and weed to plot anything like this.

He even asked me to spare his head when we met for practice the following day.

I scroll through the photos to a shot where the new boy was caressing Elsa’s face.

My left eye twitches as I strangle the pawn between my fingers.

He had his hand on her.

He had his fucking hands on what’s mine.

I warned him. He didn’t listen.

Now, he’ll pay.

But first, my gaze zeroes in on Elsa’s face. Her easy smile. Her flushed cheeks. Her glistening lips.

My clutch tightens on the phone, I’m surprised it doesn’t break to pieces.

I gave her a choice. I gave her the right to make the first move, but I should’ve known better.

Elsa doesn’t work that way.

She acts better when her will is taken and ripped to pieces.

The track team’s coach comes out from the building with her pad in hand. I stand up and tuck the phone in my pocket.

“Where to?” Knight asks from in front of his locker.

I don’t answer him.