3 2
Nothing Left
"Thank you for covering for me last night."
I sneak a glance at Noah. His eyes are firmly set on the road ahead of us, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other rests on his lap.
"I really couldn't talk to Mom," I continue, trying to fill the awkward air in the car.
Noah blinks, then nods once. "She wanted to talk to you."
I breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice. We haven't talked since yesterday, when he drove us home from Daniel's and I cried on the floor of our car. I knew things would be weird after that. Anytime emotions are involved Noah detaches himself, and I rarely let him ever see me like that because needing my idiotic brother's help isn't something I like.
I'm not weak, and he's not sentimental. That's just not how we are.
Except for yesterday. I weakly sobbed for half an hour, while Noah tried his hardest to calm me down.
All he really did was pat my back, and then mumble that we'd been parked down the block for too long, that the sun was going down. I took that as the clue to get my shit together long enough to walk to my room.
But Mom bombarded me the second I walked in. I didn't have the energy to answer her fifty-thousand questions, and Noah knew that. He told her I was sick, and maybe it was because of the tone in his voice or the look on my face, but Mom let it go. She said we'd talk in the morning.
I was thankful, for once, and locked myself away. I expected more tears, sillily hoping I'd just cry myself to sleep so I could forget the day for a little while.
Sleep didn't come. I laid awake in bed all night, replaying in my head any and every moment spent with Jalen. It was as if my brain was teasing me and my heart, wanting us to relive every time I thought I was happy.
I could pinpoint how I felt in each memory, easily identifying the ones where I slowly started loving Jalen. It was clear how fast my feelings developed with each one, how much harder I fell day by day. And as I remembered each and every little thing, each time I thought I was getting a glimpse at the real version of the boy everyone at Arlin Preparatory bashed, I realized how wrong I was.
I hopelessly relived the times I fell harder and harder, feeling my heart break ten times more as I realized Jalen just watched, with no intent to catch me.
Blinking away the memories threatening to come back, I focus on the trees passing by my window. "I couldn't talk to her."
Noah makes a sound of agreement, but says nothing else, showing me he wants the conversation to end. Despite not wanting to sit in silence, I oblige him, feeling like I at least owe him this for staying quiet.
He could easily tease me about yesterday, or tell me I told you so, or even just ask for every single detail. Instead, he's been quiet. He hasn't said a word at all.
My stomach sinks when Noah pulls into Arlin Preparatory's parking lot. I'd rather drown in a pool than walk into that school.
But I'm an excellent swimmer, so sadly, the better option of drowning isn't even possible.
Maybe I can fake sick? Make myself barf right here so it looks believable to Noah? Or is that too drastic? Is that letting what Jalen did affect my life too much?
How could it not affect my life too much?
I blink hard, wanting all thoughts of him out of my mind forever. Or for at least the next fucking hour, please.
I want to forget. Erase the last five months from my memory. Restart.
At the very least, I want to pretend they didn't happen. I should have no problem with that. I've watched my parents pretend for all of my life, I did a good job at pretending to date Jalen, and I witnessed him do an even better one at pretending to give a damn about me.
Noah parks further away than usual, and he seems almost as reluctant as me to leave the car.
This reminds me of what yesterday was for him. I might have had my heart ripped out of my chest, but Noah had his own problems, involving a confusing moment with his best friend.
"I wanna go home," I say, loud enough for him to hear, but low enough that he can easily interpret it as me just talking to myself.
He hums in agreement once more. "I wanna go anywhere but here."
"Okay," I tell him. Turning to face him, I let him see how serious my face is. "We can go eat."
Noah debates the idea for less than a second, quickly shaking his head. "Nope. We're going to school. Come on."
Out of all the times this asshole wants to skip, he chooses now to be responsible?
I sigh heavily, but follow his lead of throwing open the door and stepping out of the car. My only other option is to jump him for the keys. I'm feeling too unenergetic today, though. He'd easily knock me down, and I can't take the embarrassment that'd come with that. I'm already having enough to last a lifetime.
We walk side by side, silently through the parking lot.
I breathe in and out, feeling the smallest bit of relief at the fact that we're really early. The chances of running into any of the people I'd rather never see again are slim.
"Yo, Prince!" a voice shouts from further down the parking lot.
Turning away from the stairs we almost started climbing, Noah and I glance around, trying to locate the voice.
But I don't need to search too hard. I'm able to recognize it.
Sure enough, David Williams appears, inching closer and closer with a scowl on his face.
What could he possibly be mad about?
I clench my fists, not having the time for this bullshit. David's voice was aggressive as fuck as he called out my last name, and I can feel all of my hurt and sadness morphing into rage with every step he takes in my direction.
Come any closer and you're getting punched.
Noah takes a step forward, letting the strap of his bookbag slowly slide down his arm.
I furrow my brows in confusion. I feel completely lost when David stops a few inches away, and directs all of his attention onto my brother.
Then it dawns on me that he called out our last name, not Boulevard. Which means he definitely wasn't talking to me.
I'm not the one he looks ready to fight.
"The fuck do you want?" Noah asks in a hard voice.
David eyes him, clenching his jaw. "You better watch your fucking tone."
"I don't have to watch shit," Noah spits out, taking a step forward.
"You think you're so fucking tough, huh?" David asks, tilting his head to the side and smirking. "Let's see how tough you are after I beat the shit out of you."
I narrow my eyes, not understanding why the fuck David wants to beat up Noah.
My answer comes in the form of Daniel racing through the parking lot, trying to reach where we are as fast as he can, with a troubled look on his face.
"Stop," he yells to his brother once he's closer. Daniel reaches his side and grabs his arm, attempting to pull his brother back, but David doesn't budge. "This is stupid. I told you to leave it alone."
I observe the white bandage covering Daniel's nose, understanding why David is so upset with Noah. After getting Daniel to confess how it happened, the only thing David could probably think to do to help his brother was to go after the person who did it.
He's got another thing coming if he thinks he's going to hurt my brother, though.
Noah drops his bag to the floor, clearly ready to fight despite Daniel's protests, same as David.
But both boys don't get the chance to take another step toward each other and begin, because another voice interrupts, and the sound sends my stomach into knots.
Please go away. Please don't come here.
"David, what's going on?"
All three boys face where Jalen must be standing, but I keep my gaze steadily on the ground. I can't look at him.
"Well if you had answered your phone, you would've known that Prince decked Danny in the face and broke his fucking nose," David says bitterly, diverting his eyes back to Noah. "Now it's his turn."
"The punch was an accident. It was a reflex. I didn't mean for it to happen," Noah quickly defends. His voice takes on a darker tone as he swings his gaze from David to Jalen, and says, "But I do wanna fight Jalen for what he did to my sister."
My stomach drops, hands growing sweatier by the second. He can't be serious.
Confusion floods David's face, gaze flickering between Jalen and Noah before settling on me. I avert my gaze away, aiming to see Daniel's reaction to what's happening, but instead, I find the last pair of eyes I want to see.
Blue eyes hold my own, making it impossible to look away. Dark circles appear under them, and a look of sadness is within. There always was, though. I've never seen this boy truly happy.
I swallow hard, attempting to look somewhere else after feeling almost all of the strength I have left slipping away.
But I can't. Not after Jalen softly calls out, "Lyndon..."
Two syllables, barely higher than a whisper, somehow change everything. I feel my heart beat faster, my stomach do somersaults, and my throat tighten, barely allowing me to breathe.
I find his eyes again, and he closes his mouth once I do, apparently unable to finish his thought or sentence once we make eye contact.
I narrow my eyes, letting my face morph into a scowl, hoping even the tiniest bit of the immense anger I feel toward him will show. Maybe even the hurt and sadness can make an appearance. As long as the love doesn't.
"Oh hell no," Noah calls out, instantly making my eyes go to him. He glances between Jalen and I, before settling his angry glare on Jalen. "Don't even fucking try talking to my sister, you prick."
Jalen's jaw clenches as he quickly looks to my brother, then he shakes his head and turns back to me. His mouth opens once more, but he's cut off by Noah.
"Look at her one more time and I swear I'm knocking your teeth out," Noah tells him.
Noah briefly looks to me, seeming to gauge my reaction to his threats. All I do is stare at the ground once more, figuring it's safer than looking up and risk seeing Jalen again.
My twin must take that as approval to proceed, and though I really don't want them fighting, I'm not entirely opposed to the idea of Noah punching Jalen... at least once.
"Lookâ" Jalen says, voice sounding strained.
"Jalen," David interrupts, placing a hand on Jalen's shoulder to shove him lightly. "Just back off and finally leave Boulevard's annoying ass alone."
I roll my eyes at his comment, but if it makes Jalen actually leave, then I'm okay with it.
"You know what, I change my mind. I'll fight David instead," Noah calls out loudly, moving forward until he's standing in David's face. "You were obviously in on the fucked up shit Jalen did since you two never seem to be apart. And you're a huge dick to my sister, all the time. For no fucking reason."
I smirk a little, lifting my head an inch to be able to watch. I'll gladly grab a chair and some popcorn if Noah's going to beat up David for me.
The smirk fades when Jalen quickly steps between them, just as Noah's getting ready to throw a punch. He's always been impatient when it comes to conflict. He doesn't like talking or prolonging the tension. My twin hits first, thinks later.
And even as Noah clearly has the time to withdraw his fist once Jalen moves David aside, he doesn't, choosing to go after Jalen instead.
Jalen quickly dodges, pissed off scowl coming to his face as his eyes darken. He straightens to his full height and eyes my brother, making my worry come back at the thought of them actually fighting.
I change my mind. I don't want either of them hurting each other. At all.
"You're extremely lucky that you're Lyndon's brother," Jalen says in a deep and low voice, sending chills up my arms. "Otherwise, I'd have laid you out by now."
Noah's jaw ticks at the obvious threat. Then he lets out a humorless laugh. "Seems like you're all fucking talk, Jalen."
Jalen breathes in deeply, shutting his eyes for a moment and then reopening them.
"Noah, I think weâ" I start to say, reaching for my brother's arm.
But my words end once Jalen's eyes find me once more, and I forget how to even form sentences.
Why does he turn me into such a moron?
The bell rings at that moment, saving us all from what would surely be a disaster.
No one moves, though. Not even the crowd that I hadn't notice form around us.
I grab Noah's bookbag from the ground, just as Jalen says to me, "Lyndon, if we could justâ"
"No," I say harshly, narrowing my eyes at him. "No, Jalen."
He reels back, acting as if I just smacked him. God, I wish I did. He glances around at the crowd, then looks to me once more with sad eyes, and says lowly, "We neeâ"
"I said no!" I shout toward him, hoping I don't look as hysterical as he's making me feel. "I don't care about what you have to say. There's nothing you can say to me."
Noah shakes his head, then turns to me and grabs his bag from my hands. "Seems like you've got this handled."
His sarcastic tone annoys me, but nonetheless, I appreciate his version of support. "Mhm, I do," I tell him. "And now it's done. Walk me to class?"
Just as Noah nods, Jalen's talking again, and now I'm really wishing they did fight.
"Lyndon, I'm serious. We need toâ"
"We don't need to do a goddamn thing!" I shout again. "There is no we. There never was. That was finally made perfectly clear to me."
I follow Noah up the stairs, heading into the building, but the crowd outside stays unmoving, and I hear one pair of hurried footsteps following.
It's emptier in the halls, seeing as the bell only signalified homeroom beginning, and no one cares about getting there until the end of the period.
A hand touches my arm, lightly, hesitantly, and I barely even feel it, but I still whirl around and throw it off of me as if I was being manhandled.
"Are you insane?" I scream at him, voice echoing off of the lockers in the almost empty hall. "You got what you wanted, didn't you? You played me. You won. There's no need to keep dragging this out. You've done that long enough."
Jalen rapidly shakes his head, panic overtaking his eyes. "No, you don't understand. If you'd just let meâ"
"I don't owe you anything," I say over him, taking a step closer. We're face to face, chests practically touching, and the obvious connection between us burns.
Well, it burns for me. He never felt it, and it was never real to him, so he must feel nothing. But I feel it all, and even now, I want nothing more than to throw my arms around him, want to hold him close and never let go.
"I never want to see or talk to you again, Jalen."
My throat burns with the words, because despite how much I should mean them, I know I don't. Seeing him hurts, hearing him hurts, but the thought of never, ever doing either again somehow hurts more.
So fucking pathetic.
He stays quiet, jaw ticking as his eyes observe my face, searching for something. I'm not sure what it is he's trying to find, but I keep my face as blank as I canâjust as blank as he always makes sure his is.
"Never again," I repeat the words, this time in a lower, firmer tone, hoping they sound more believable.
That seems to do the trick, as all hope fades from Jalen's face, and any emotions previously shown vanish. He reverts back to the expression he normally holdsâone that shows nothing.
Seeing that makes it easier to accept the cold truth of how much I didn't matter to him, and it makes it the littlest bit easier to turn away.
But just as I gain the strength too, and take one single step, Jalen speaks again.
"Lyndon, I... I love you."
His voice cracks, like he's struggling to form the words, and I can't tell if that's because he's filled with too much emotion or if the lie is just too hard for him to tell.
As much as the former would mean to me, I know better than to buy his lies anymore. One good thing that's come out of all of this is that I refuse to believe a damn thing he says, or anyone who doesn't seem one hundred percent truthful.
I take in a shaky breath, then turn around slowly, watching as his blank face remains frozen. With widened eyes, Jalen takes a step forward, reaching a hand out, shaking his head.
"I... I..." he murmurs, making me unsure if he's speaking to me or not. "I'm..."
"I don't care," I tell him, surprisingly calm. I take in a deep breath. "I'm over you and your lies, Jalen. You're sick in the head, and you need to leave me alone. I mean it."
And with that, I turn away, marching down the hall and turning the corner.
The mask I slipped on fades away once I know I'm out of eyeshot and earshot of everyone. My hands begin to shake, my nerves and anger and hurt overcoming me again.
"Lynnie," Noah calls out. He rounds the corner seconds later. "Are you... um, never mind. Did you still wanna skip?"
I let out a chuckle. "Too late now, motherfucker."
Noah laughs too, but it's an awkward sound as he clearly doesn't know what the fuck to say or do.
I look toward the ceiling. "I'm... I'm gonna go to class."
He nods at me, fixing the straps of his bookbag and stepping aside as I pass. "Meet you for lunch?"
"You wanna sit with me?" I ask in a teasing voice, ignoring the feeling of my eyes watering up again as everything that just happened catches up to me.
"Not like I have anywhere else to go," Noah says lowly, casting his eyes to the ground, making me realize he's in the same position as me. Completely different scenarios, but the same result.
We have no one else.
"Save me a seat," I tell him as I walk down the hall, wanting to quickly dry my eyes before heading to class.
Noah doesn't respond, but he doesn't have too.
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"Oh my god, can you believe it? They actually broke up, and it sounds like there's literally no chance of getting back together!"
"Are you serious? I really thought they'd make it at least till we graduate."
"No fucking way. There was no chance in hell those two were gonna last. It's surprising they even made it this long."
"I heard he played her. Just like every other girl. She was so pissed."
"I guess what everyone says about Jalen is true."
"That he's really good in bed?"
"What? No! Well, I'm sure that one's true, too. But I meant about the games! London practically confirmed it for the whole damn school this morning."
"Oh yeah! I heard about that! He apparently made her think their relationship was real, but I guess all he wanted was sex."
"That's kind of a dick move..."
"It's her fault. Everyone knows how Jalen is. You can't tame a bad boy. Shame on her for thinking she could change him."
"Did anyone hear about the love confession though? I mean, what the fuck was that even all about."
"Yeah... Jalen went a little overboard with that one. What was the point?"
"Maybe he actually... Nah. Just kidding. Jalen's only ever loved one girl, and we all know it ain't London."
I slam the book in front of me shut, the sound echoing around the quiet library.
Assuming this would be the best place to hide out during my free period, I found a copy of The Great Gatsby and sat all the way in the back. But apparently people don't follow the rules of being quiet in a library at Arlin Preparatory, because these bitches have not shut the fuck up for the last twenty minutes.
I decided to let them be, thinking it'd be easier if they didn't know I was here. I didn't want to risk them trying to talk to me or ask questions.
But sitting here listening to them talk about me and my life as if it's nothing but a damn television show is worse.
Their eyes flicker to me, and a round of apologies quickly comes from them.
"Sorry, London," one of them lowly says to me. "I guess you weren't the one for Jalen."
"Yeah," the other says, nodding in agreement. "It's okay. We've all been there before."
"Excuse me?" I respond, reeling my head back.
We've all been there before? What, has Jalen messed with them all?
One of the girls sighs heavily, casting me a look filled with so much sympathy I feel like choking. "Everyone wants Jalen Uccello, and we all have gotten our hopes up when we think we have the slightest chance."
I stare blankly at them. Is this what I've fucking become? Another member of Jalen's endless groupies?
A rebuttal is on the tip of my tongue, the words I had a chance with Jalen! We were together! and a few fucking insults for these bitches is ready to come, but I hold it in. Because, in the end, my words are very untrue.
I didn't have a chance with Jalen, and we were never really together, no matter how much I thought we were or wanted us to be.
The sound of chairs sliding across the floor catches my attention, making me realize they're coming closer. "What do you think you're doing?"
They stare at me dumbfounded, with eyes full of hope. They think we're friends now? Get the fuck out of here.
"London, we just thoughtâ"
"My name is Lyndon," I snap harshly, cutting them off without a single fuck. "And I would never be friendly with people like you. All you do is talk shit about everybody as if there aren't real people or feelings involved. It's fucked up."
Any balls they grew that made them have the courage to talk to me in the first place must finally disappear, as their eyes grow wide and their mouths open and close three times before they scurry off. Once their chairs are slid back further down the table, I reopen my book and try reading again.
Try being the keyword, as it's hard to focus when their voices reach me again. Their words clearly aren't meant for me, but these people can't talk low to save their lives.
"Well, she was kind of rude."
"Yeah, for a second there I was beginning to think she was Malia's cousin from the Carrington side because of all that attitude."
"Oh, come on. We all know Malia's the bitch she is because that's just how she is. The Carrington's had nothing to do with it."
"If anything, Malia was the one who ruined them."
"True. If it hadn't been for her, those boys would still be alive."
What in the mother everloving fuck?!
My head snaps their way so hard I swear I hear it crack. Just as I'm ready to slide my chair closer, their voices quickly end and their eyes go much wider with panic than they did when I was talking to them.
With the way everyone in the library seems to look up and then quickly cast their eyes down at once, I can only assume one of two people have entered the room.
I hate how disappointed I feel as I see that it's Malia, and not... him. Am I disppointed because I wanted them to keep gossiping about her, or because I wanted to see... no, stop. It's over, it had never even truly began. Stop.
Her Chanel No. 5 perfume reaches me first, and the sound of her delicately taking the seat across from me registers next. "Lyndon," she calls out politely.
I drag my eyes to her face, taking in the perfectly plucked brows and lipstick coated smile she flashes. "Malia," I say dryly.
Dark brown eyes watch me, as I sit frozen, waiting for what she'll say. It's hard to think that just yesterday I had been at her house, spent the night, and actually had a full conversation with her in who knows how long. So much happened after that it feels like it's been weeks since that day.
The reminder makes my chest tighten, and looking at Malia only makes the pain worseâshe's too connected to Jalen. And she knew. She had to have known what he was doing.
"Are you in the mood to talk?" Malia asks. The question sounds simple enough, though one look at her eyes again and it's clear she knows none of this is simple.
She knew.
"Only if you're going to be honest with me," I tell her in a calm voice. I can't come across as hurt and upset as I truly am. "I'm tired of being lied too."
Malia's eyes squint, but she doesn't comment. Instead she slowly shrugs a shoulder and brings her folded hands onto the table between us.
"I rarely lie, Lyndon." Her voice is velvety and smooth as she speaks, and if I hadn't already seen firsthand how she and her friends easily trick people, I'd believe her. "What is it you'd like to know?"
"Chloe Martinez," is all I say, knowing the name is more than enough to get this conversation going.
The name Elena rings in my head. A voice is urging me to say it, telling me that the name matters more, but I can only handle one heartache at a time. Right now, Chloe Martinez is the only confirmed name, the one Jalen's father said directly to his face. She seems to be another victim of his sick game, and I need answers about that before anything else.
Nodding once, Malia slightly leans forward and drops her voice a little lower as she says, "She used to go to Arlin."
"Yeah, no shit," I say dryly. "What happened with her and Jalen?"
Maybe my pushiness breaks the illusion of being calm, but damn it, I want details and I want them now.
A little laugh escapes my cousin. If looks could kill, the bitch would be dead. How dare she laugh at something like this?
Once she contains herself, she says, "If you're looking for some big story, you're not gonna find it here."
"I said I was looking for the truth, whatever it may be," I respond, grinding my teeth after.
"Jalen didn't date her, Lyndon," Malia says slowly, as if talking to a child. "Not sure what you've heard, but they never had any kind of relationship."
"I'm gonna be honest with you, Malia," I say in a similar tone to hers, "I didn't really think they had a relationship. It's been made very clear that Jalen doesn't have real relationships."
Malia smirks, making my stomach churn at the beautiful yet haunting sight, immensely worried for what the fuck that look means.
A look of sympathy comes to her eyes for a moment, and then she says, "He does."
I can't tell if the sympathy is for me or for Jalen, but either way, it doesn't help with the nauseousness I feel.
"Then what's the story with him and Chloe Martinez?" I ask, not even bothering to hide the irritation in my voice.
"They hooked up," Malia states, as if it's so simple.
My stomach stupidly churns at the idea of him being with someone else, even if it was way before we ever met.
"There's got to be more to it than that," I respond, eyeing her with disdain. "Obviously he did something to her. Did he not make it clear he didn't want anything more from the beginning? Did he make her think they were together?"
Malia's eyes narrow as she observes me, a thoughtful expression on her face before it's wiped away and replaced with understanding. "Chloe knew exactly what she was getting."
I let out a fake laugh. "Those rumors don't provide any warning. Not when Jalen's saying other things," I tell her bitterly.
My cousin looks at me quietly once more, and it takes all I have to not reach across the table and grab her, desperately ask if she really knew all this time what he was doing to me.
I'm too scared of the answer, though. And what it would mean.
Family's supposed to come first. No matter how fucked up or distant, family should come first.
"As I said, Chloe knew exactly what she was doing," Malia says firmly. "They both didn't want anything serious and they both made that clear to one another."
"That doesn't make any sense," I say, shaking my head. "Jalen's father made it seem like she was upset, and said her father came over and..."
"You spoke to Emiliano?" Malia interrupts, tilting her head to the side in confusion.
I nod, though, I hadn't really spoken to him. More like listened as he ripped Jalen a new asshole, and tore my heart to pieces in the process.
"Chloe's father did go to the Uccello's, but not for the reason you think," Malia informs me, seeming to not care for my answer to her previous question. That's just like Malia, never caring long enough about one thing. "Chloe didn't send them there to defend her honor."
Malia speaks mockingly, tossing in a little eye roll at the end, as if the whole thing is so childish. From what I heard, Chloe Martinez's parents were upset that Jalen deflowered their daughter, as Emiliano so politely put it. How is that childish? Or something to mock? That's serious, and fucked up of Jalen to toss her aside after that.
"Jalen took her virginity and ghosted her," I say, though my tone sounds more questioning the second she sends me a dry look.
"Yeah, he was her first and ghosting was involved," Malia agrees, then smirks once more as she says, "but it was definitely not one sided."
I narrow my eyes. "Are you implying Jalen lost his to her too...?"
Malia laughs loudly at that, the sound garnering the attention of every male in our vicinity. Way to draw a crowd I don't want, bitch. She sobers up, then says, "I mean the ghosting was two-sided. Neither one cared to talk after."
"Then why did her parents go to his?"
Malia sighs, all humor faded as annoyance takes over. She leans closer and says her next words in one breath, seemingly over this entire topic. "Chloe may have wanted to cash in her V-card with Arlin's number one guy, but she didn't want her religious parents knowing. So the second they caught wind of it, because no one here can ever shut the fuck up, she told a lie. The perfect church girl couldn't have her parents knowing she wanted to have sex simply for pleasure."
I remain quiet, trying to take it all in. Is she saying what I think she's saying? This girl... lied to her parents and painted Jalen to be some bad guy?
"Chloe enjoyed her afterglow for all of five minutes before her parents heard, and rather than being honest, she said she thought her and Jalen were going to be serious, so she gave in and slept with him to keep him happy."
"Malia, are you being serious right now?"
Malia shrugs a shoulder, leaning back in her chair. "I told you these rumors are never one hundred percent true. Chloe continued telling her version of events to make sure her parents never knew she lied. She's a big part of the reason for why all those rumors about Jalen came about."
"I... I don't... what?" I say, unable to get a coherent thought together.
This can't be for real. This cannot be the truth.
"But... the games?"
"Yes," Malia says mockingly, "the infamous games everyone says Jalen and David play. Tell me, Lyndon, what do you think these games consist of?"
I shake my head, unsure of my answer. "You tell me, since you clearly think me and everyone else at this school knows nothing."
"David pays people and Jalen plays people," Malia says simply. "That's what you've heard, correct?"
It's what I've seen. Dedra told me what David does, but the proof shows in the way he has his lackeys running errands for him at lunch. As for Jalen, I felt firsthand how he plays people.
So, I nod, and that earns me a light tough on the hand from my dear cousin.
"How many times have I told you to not believe what these people say?"
I shake her touch away. "The same amount of times you've seen me and not told me what Jalen was doing."
Her brows furrow, confusion flooding her face. "I've always been honest with you, Lyndon. And I just gave you all the answers you wanted about Chloe. Don't paint me to be the villain here."
I nod mockingly. "No, you're right. You're my savior, and Jalen's the villain."
She leans back once more, irritation showing on her face and in her movements as she tightly crosses her arms over her chest. "How exactly is Jalen the villain?"
I stare at her dumbfounded, mouth hanging open. Is she serious? I lean back in my chair and watch her, seeing that she truly doesn't know why Jalen is the bad guy.
"Besides the games and what he did to me..." I begin saying.
"Didn't we go over the whole games thing already?" Malia interrupts, rolling her eyes after. "They're made up, Lyndon. They started because of Chloe."
I let out a laugh, unable to do anything else but find the humor in this entire thing. "Malia, he played me," I inform her, leaning forward in my seat. "He lied to me over and over again, never told me what the games were, or ever even tried explaining to me why all these rumors go around."
Malia sighs heavily. "I don't know how many more times you need me to say this, but, Lyndon, there are no games. At least, not in the way you think."
"What the fuck does that even mean?"
She observes her nails casually as she says, "I mean, are Jalen and David immature assholes in their own way? Yes, very much so. But are they keeping up those ridiculous games like they were supposed to? No, they are not. Be grateful they aren't."
I swallow hard, trying to process her words. Like they were supposed to... what does that mean?
"So, the whole thing with Chloe...?"
Malia groans, gripping my forearm tightly with her hand, letting her long nails dig into my skin. "He did not play her, Lyndon. He didn't set her up to think anything more than sex was going to happen. She sent her parents after him to cover her own ass."
"Well, why didn't he just tell me that?" I ask, deciding that even if Malia's intent is to really be honest with me and not just cover for Jalen, that this still doesn't clear his name. He's lied to me too many times. "If that's true, and it's all that simple, why not just be honest? Why does he lie?"
"Gosh, I don't know, Lyndon. Why don't you like answering people's questions?" she quickly asks, tilting her head to the side as she continues. "Because for someone as intrusive as you are, you sure as hell like to shut up once someone turns the tables on you."
I blank, put on the spot and not liking it one bit.
"What are you talking about?"
Malia groans in annoyance, probably the most emotion I've seen from her... ever. And of course the emotion just has to be anger, directed toward me, over Jalen. Of fucking course.
"How about the fact that no one knows why you were kicked off the swimming team? Still? All this time later?"
I scoff. "That? That's the big question everyone has? It's not as serious as you're all making it seem."
"Then what was the reason for it, Lyndon?"
I shift uncomfortably. "People accused my mother of cheating, and said that's why my dad left. Someone on the team called her a whore, so, I swung at them."
Malia smiles, but there's nothing genuine about it. Somehow, her smile makes me want to hit her, more so than I wanted to hit the bitch that shit-talked my mother. "A simple, truthful answer to a frequently asked question. Why did you never just say that?"
I roll my eyes, agitated at where she's going with this. "That's different," I argue. "That was personal, it involved my family. And seeing as cheating ended up being what really did tear my family a part, it's not something I like to discuss."
It also tore a part my own relationships. Clearly there's a sick cycle I need to break.
"Maybe this was personal to Jalen, too," Malia says softly, shrugging one shoulder. "He's constantly talked about and confronted by people like you who won't take no for an answer. Chloe's parents wanted to have him arrested, all because she lied and painted him as a villain. The same way everyone else at Arlin does." Her dark brown eyes find mine, holding my gaze as she narrows them slightly. "The same way you do, Lyndon. I'd lie to you, too."
"Of course you would," I mutter. When she sets a hardened gaze on me, I know this conversation isn't going anywhere pleasant anytime soon. For a second, I worry we'll never have a pleasant conversation after this.
That worry leaves when I finally admit that I don't care. Good fucking riddance to her and her bullshit.
"And what does that mean?" Malia asks, folding her hands in front of her.
"That you will defend Jalen until your last fucking breath."
I watch as a muscle in Malia's jaw ticks, as her eyes somehow grow darker and her fingers flex before quickly relaxing on the table.
The brief rage I saw leaves her, and she sighs once more. "I really wish you'd just talk to Jalen."
"You go talk to him if you want him to talk so bad," I say, refraining from cringing at the lame response and bitterness in my tone.
Malia's tense posture relaxes completely, and the briefest chuckle escapes her the longer she looks at me. I have no doubt she's laughing at my obvious jealousy that's shown.
Feeling my own anger rising, I quickly decide I want to make her just as mad as she's made me. I rack my brain, trying to find a sore topic for her, but it's hard to do as Malia's always been the type to let even the harshest things roll right off her back. Even when flashes of that nasty temper I remember her having peeked through, she rarely ever let it linger too long, opting to push it away and move on from whatever triggered it.
My eyes find the group of students from earlier, and their words come back to me long enough to ready my words.
"Since I have you here and you're so adamant about talking things out," I begin saying in a teasing tone, "why don't you inform me about your odd relationship with your stepfather and these step brothers I've heard about?"
Malia sits up straight, but that cool expression she usually wears stays in tact. She doesn't say anything, though.
Jackpot. I got you now, bitch.
"I've heard some... things about them," I say, still letting that teasing tone linger. A small smile creeps it's way onto my face the longer Malia sits there silently, eyeing me with that blank expression. "If I've learned anything from being at this school, it's that the rumors around here are outrageous. But they aren't always complete lies, right, Malia?"
A full blown smile comes to my face, and I lean forward, dropping my voice to a lower tone as I add, "After all, those games do hold some truth, and we both know the rumors about my dad cheating were spot on. So, I can't help but wonder just how true these rumors about your step brothers are, especially since I didn't see any trace of them at your house."
It goes silent. Malia sits there, same blank expression, but I watch her intently, catching the way her nostrils briefly flare and she swallows hard, before dropping her shoulders.
"I'm just trying to be a friend to you, Lyndon," she says quietly, shaking her head. "It was obvious you needed one right now."
I let out a bark of laughter, much too loud for a library. "That's funny, because you weren't trying to do that before. You were being Jalen's friend, and you still are as you sit here pleading his case."
"Nobody was pleading," she says snidely, rolling her eyes. "I'm trying to help you not look or feel like an idiot, but clearly, that's all you want to be."
"And you're still not answering my previous question," I quickly say. "Who's avoiding talking about their own shit now?"
Malia's eyes glance over my face, before settling on my own. "You and Noah are social outcasts now."
I tilt my head to the side. "How? We showed everyone that Jalen, and even David, are assholes."
"Oh, Lyndon," Malia says with a soft chuckle, touching my hand lightly with hers, "no matter what those boys do, they will never be hated." She smiles, but again, it's not genuine. Her slight dimple shows, and her eyes shine brightly from above her defined cheekbones, but there's still something haunting about the sight. "And neither will I."
I rip my hand out from under hers. "Good for fucking you," I say as I rise from my chair, tossing my bag over my shoulder and storming out of the library after.
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A / N:
Hi! It has been way too damn long since the last update. I am so, so sorry about that.
I really hope people haven't lost interest in this story. We're so close to the end. I can't wait to show you all what I have in store!
Thoughts on what's happened so far, or how the story will end? I'd love to hear some theories!
Hope everyone enjoyed the holidays. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up and ready before New Year's Eve, but... I think by now we all know how I am... so if I don't get it posted, I'll say happy new year now! Hope you all enjoy the last few days of 2019!