Page 33 of Broken Rivalry

“What time are you off? I’ll pick you up.”

“Did you miss the part where I said it can’t be more?”

“No, I didn’t. But we’re friends, right?”

She hesitates, her eyes searching mine. “More or less… old habits die hard. We used to be rivals for everything.”

I snort. “If only you knew…”

Her voice is soft. Weary. Resonating with me in an unexpected way. “It’s okay. I promised Mom I’d go home, and no matter what you say, it’s a place you’re not welcome.”

I shrug, pretending it’s not a big deal. “Okay, maybe next time.”

She shakes her head. “I keep wondering, being friends, you and I… it’s probably a waste of time.”

I turn to her, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She looks away, her voice barely audible. “Our families, our history… they will never understand, and I won’t subject my mom to you or your family. We lost everything, Ethan, and we had no one. Trust doesn’t come easy for me. Sorry if I don’t see life the way you do, but I lost my illusions when we fell. Who is to blame is not even relevant—we can never be anything more. Our fathers’ scandal caused too much pain.”

It stings more than I care to admit, but my resolve hardens. I’m stubborn, and I believe, perhaps naively, that it can work. “Friendship isn’t too much, is it? What do you really have to lose, huh?”

She gives no reply, her silence loud and clear, and quietly, she exits the car.

I let her go, and my mind spirals back, recalling those days, a mix of anger and confusion always bubbling under my surface. My dad had painted Alan Lockwood as the villain of our story, and I swallowed that narrative without a second thought.

One night, after Alan was sent to jail, Poppy’s mom came to our doorstep, tears streaming down her face, a picture of despair. But what did I do? Nothing. I watched as my dad coldly turned her away. I even thought they had it coming for trying to dismantle us.

Does Poppy know about that night? How would her mom feel seeing me with Poppy now? A part of me wants to justify my past self, saying I was only a kid, barely seventeen, and that I couldn’t have done anything. But that’s not entirely true, is it? If I’d really wanted to, I could’ve stood up.

For a fleeting second, I see so much more of my father in me, and a wave of nausea washes over me. The realization that I might carry even a fragment of his deceitful nature is a bitter pill to swallow.

Chapter 12

Poppy

The bathroom fan hums as I fasten my moon locket with trembling fingers, its weight a little comfort that alleviates some of the apprehension I have for tonight. Evangeline’s distant music contrasts with my inner turmoil.

Gazing into the mirror, a stranger draped in royal blue stares back, her face adorned with intricate makeup, a ritual I hadn’t indulged in for over two years. The locket gleams in the soft light. I grab it in my hand and take a deep breath, still conflicted about meeting Ethan at the ball only minutes before the car is supposed to pick us up.

My mind drifts to last Tuesday, the way Ethan’s eyes lingered on me a moment too long, revealing a depth of emotion that both thrilled and terrified me. His touch always a tad too intimate yet undeniably comforting in its warmth. I remember the softness in his voice, how his manner subtly changed in our private moments, and the words we left hanging in the silence as he held me close in that store and how much I loved it.

I sigh. Deep down, I know it isn’t simply a friendly meet. The flutter in my chest tells me so. Spending over an hour on my hair and makeup wasn’t just for any ordinary date, and certainly not with my heart racing this wildly.

Nessa sweeps into the bathroom, embodying gothic elegance with her eyes smoldering in a perfect smoky hue and lips painted a light purple, harmonizing with the lower half of her cascading hair.

“You seem on edge. What’s got you rattled?” Gracefully, she places her hands on my shoulders, our eyes locking in the mirror’s reflection. Her height allows her to rest her chin atop my head, a familiar gesture that usually brings comfort.

“I don’t know…” It’s half the truth.

A wicked smile plays on her lips. “One word and he becomes a eunuch,” she declares, flaunting her long, pointed black nails with a sinister flourish.

A genuine laugh escapes my lips, a lightness expanding in me as Nessa’s joke dissipates the tight knot of anxiety, if only for an instant. “No headphones tonight,” I tease, my voice a gentle nudge against her armor.

She tilts her head, revealing the tiny earbuds nestled discreetly.

“Alright, let’s get Brainy out there,” Nessa says before exiting the bathroom as the same storm she was coming in.

“What’s going on here?” Nessa’s voice filters through as I near Eva’s room, curiosity threading my steps. “I mean, I’m all supportive of the devil-may-care look, but you may have pushed it a little too far.”

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