Page 36 of Broken Rivalry

And so I do. I spill everything, from the dance to Ethan’s confession to the fear that grips my heart. Eva listens, her expression unchanging, offering a safe harbor in the storm.

Chapter 13

Poppy

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the apartment, mingling with the sizzling sound of eggs in the skillet. I hum to myself, preparing breakfast for me and my roommates. Letting out some of my feelings for Ethan to Eva last night truly helped, and I am starting to wonder if it would not be better for the three of us to let it all out in the safety of our own peculiar group. It is a safe place, and as we are all three recipients of the Phoenix Rising Scholarship, it is clear that fate has not dealt us the best of cards.

I’m hoping that breakfast will put them in a receptive mood because I know we need to talk. I’m curious to know why Eva, my usually composed and well-spoken roommate, gets almost feral when Cole Westbrook is in close proximity. I need to know why Nessa, my flirty, fierce roommate, is always walking around with headphones and why she freaked out and disappeared last night when Liam Ashford gave her a little more attention. And I have to explain to them why, despite my growing feelings for Ethan, I am fighting it so hard.

These past few months spent together already made us a close-knit unit. I think that to keep each other safe and survive the next four years, we need to take it a step further.

I wince, rehearsing the speech in my head, scared that they will think I’m prying instead of trying to help us all.

I open the fridge to retrieve the orange juice.

“Who died?”

I spin around, the carton of juice pressed against my chest, meeting Nessa’s sleepy gaze. Her flannel pajamas, adorned with bats, hang loosely on her frame.

“Died? Why would anybody be dead?” I ask, pointing at the counter for her to take a seat.

“Because I think it’s the first time in three months that anyone is actually cooking anything.”

I turn to see Eva already dressed for the day in a pair of tailored black pants and a green woolen sweater-vest that complements her eyes perfectly.

“Nobody is dead.”

“How come you’re already ready? It’s only eight thirty on a Saturday,” Nessa grumbles, taking a seat at the counter with a huff.

“Yes, it’s already eight thirty.”

I clear my throat, and I serve the eggs onto plates, letting the silence stretch a moment longer. The sizzle of the pan fills the room. “About last night”—I pause, hesitating—“I think we need to talk.”

Nessa throws me a wary glance before putting some creamer in her coffee. “I’m not sure we need to.”

“I think we need to let it out. I—”

A faint shuffle at the door draws my attention, and I turn just in time to see a worn envelope slip through the gap beneath it. My name. Poppy is scribbled across the front in a familiar, messy handwriting. My heart skips a beat as I approach, picking it up with cautious fingers.

“Is that a love letter from Hawthorne?” Nessa scoffs.

I trace my name on the envelope, almost too scared to open it.

“I… I can’t only be your friend, Poppy. I want to be more, so much more.” Ethan’s voice rings in my head, each word a gentle echo that sends my heart into a fluttering mess. I pause, the envelope in my hands suddenly feeling heavier than it should, as I remember his confession.

Is it a love letter? No, Ethan is not cheesy. Is it a note calling me a coward for the way I disappeared last night? Yes, that’s far more probable and also really deserved.

“Earth to Poppy.” I blink, my gaze shifting back to the girls, their eyes locked on the envelope in my hands, curiosity painted on their faces.

“You can’t leave us hanging,” Nessa presses.

I open the envelope, and a weight is lifted off my chest. It’s not a letter full of reproach or a declaration of love. No, it’s exactly what I need, and part of me curses him for knowing me so well.

It’s a voucher for a rage room with a single yellow Post-it taped on it where he scribbled, Let it all out.

I let out a small laugh, holding up the voucher. “It’s for a rage room, booked for lunchtime. Can you believe it?” I pause, looking between them. “Are you game?”

Eva cocks her head to the side, contemplative, as Nessa starts to grin.

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