The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,139

eyes isn’t feigned. She folds her hands in front of her and nods.

“I know you do.” It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. Yet, I feel nothing.

We stare at each other. Mother and son. Enemies. Broken. With nothing between us but a sea of broken glass neither of us are willing to hazard crossing.

This isn’t my family. This isn’t my home. I don’t know who I am. Or what I am. I’ve lived my entire life with a lie guiding my decisions. The man I tried to be was shaped by myth. It grew roots that bound me when the woman I love slipped out of my grasp.

And it was all a fucking lie.

Including me.

An hour later, I drive away from Rivers Wilde and if I have my way, I’ll never be back.

Part I

The Start

EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO

HOUSTON, TEXAS.

Chapter 1

LEGENDS AND LIES

KAL

* * *

The door to the library opens and I stop writing. My heart races and my hands tremble so badly that my notebook slips from my fingers and lands with a thud on the floor. Loud voices and the blare of music that flood the room disguise the noise. I pick it up and press my body close to the wall and hold my breath.

My mother will kill me if I get caught in here. We haven’t even been at the party for thirty minutes. I thought I’d have at least another couple of hours before I had to go looking for her.

The sound of approaching footsteps sends my pulse into a wild gallop. My heart feels like it’s attached to a boomerang inside my chest. But for those footsteps, the library is as quiet as it had been when I’d snuck in here.

The door opens again and I lift my feet off the ground and hug my knees tightly to my chest and hold my breath.

“I told you to get upstairs,” a woman’s voice cracks through the air like a whip even over the loud din from outside, and I nearly jump out of my skin and my eyes widen in terror. All I can see is the dark blue backing of the curtain.

“Don’t just stand there, answer me.” Her voice is so cold, so hard that I close my eyes again the figure forming in my mind. I imagine her to be tall, with a narrow face that’s shrouded by the thousands of snakes that slither on her head where her hair should be. They hiss and bite each other constantly.

I imagine that her eyes are entirely black. But her mouth is strangely beautiful—it’s heart shaped with lips that are coated with a poisonous apple-red lipstick.

“I just came to get my books.” The boy’s voice is frightened and sad. I wish I could give him a hug. The way he sounds is the way I feel a lot. With my eyes closed, I can just imagine him. He’s small and skinny, with hair that needs cutting and shoes with that are so small, the toes are rubbed thin. The worn cuff of his two sizes too small pants stop above his bony ankles.

“Just make sure you don’t linger. And don’t let me catch you sneaking downstairs one more time, Remington.”

“I just wanted to see the other kids.”

“Why?” her voice is like the surprise of a clap of thunder when there’s not a cloud in the sky. I press my lips together and bite them to stifle the whimper that’s bubbling in my throat.

“You have forgotten who you are. What your responsibilities will be. You don’t get to mingle. You’ve got to set yourself apart. And you don’t do that by sneaking down to a party when you should be in your room working. Get your act together,” she warns.

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy says.

“Get your stuff and then get to bed. You’ve got school tomorrow.” The door opens again, the din from outside is fleeting this time as it shuts quickly.

“I hate you,” I hear the boy say in a voice that’s full of anger that I know all too well. The kind that comes when you’re a kid who knows your parents are missing something regular parents have. He sniffles softly. Then he does it again. This one sounds muffled like he’s covering his mouth. Then another and another right after it.

I forget my notebook, and I forget that I wasn’t supposed to let anyone see me and I scramble from behind the curtain to console the poor kid who’s crying by himself. Just like I’ve always