Page 4 of Vengeful Sins

I wasn’t entirely honest with Dad, but that’s nothing new. I’ve been keeping secrets from him ever since that night. Doingeverything I can to hold onto a little bit of control over my life. It’s kind of pitiful, and I know it, these little acts of defiance that don’t really make that much of a difference. If I have secrets, it means I have something of my own.

I’m not only going to Briggs’s and Wren’s house for dinner. It’s more like a party—a small one, according to Wren. “I’m still kind of getting the hang of living in this big house,” she told me when she asked me to come over. “But I want Briggs to feel like his life doesn’t have to change just because I’m there.”

I don’t quite understand why she’s with him after everything he did to her. That’s what brought us together in the first place. I can still smell the ghost of the paint remover we used to clean up the graffiti on her car, and the memory of her fear is as sharp and clear as if I was the one going through all of that insanity myself.

Yet she seems happy. I guess I don’t have to understand. All I have to do is be a supportive friend, hence the reason I’m getting behind the wheel and driving over to the house. I only hope she meant it when she said the party would be small. I’m not really in the mood to be around a lot of people and play the game of pretending to be happy. It’s the game I’ve played for so long, you’d think it would be second nature by now. More than anything, I’m exhausted.

But I’m doing it for Wren, who is the one real friend I have. She looked so eager for me to say yes when she invited me. Only a heartless bitch could’ve said no. No matter how much I kind of wanted to. Nobody wants to be in the position of pretending to know less than they do about their friend’s boyfriend.

It’s a relief when I arrive to find only a handful of cars parked out front. I can handle this number of people. Maybe I’ll be able to find a quiet corner somewhere where Wren and I can sit together. I don’t know why I feel so anxious. Normally, I would be glad for the excuse to go to a party. Something has changedin me. What little life was left in my soul has withered away until it’s crumpled into dust.

Pull it together. After parking, I check out my reflection in the rearview mirror and adjust my hair a little, brushing the curls over my shoulders and lifting my chin. It’s almost too easy to pull up a natural-looking smile. All I have to do now is keep it in place.

As soon as I’m out of the car, I can tell the party is taking place behind the house. There’s laughter back there, splashing, and music playing. Here we go. Time to pretend I completely agree with my friend’s choice in men. Not like I’ve always made the best choices, anyway, so I’m not in any position to judge.

I wonder what it’s like, living the way these people do. We coexist every day at school, sitting in classes together, passing in the halls and on the quad. Yet I am in no way part of their world. We are not the same. I always end up feeling like I’m studying some alien species whenever I observe them floating through life, seemingly carefree. Enjoying themselves, enjoying school, making plans and genuinely looking forward to them. All I can ever do is pretend. Even when I first met Wren, I pretended to be a normal person. Happy and carefree. If anything, taking care of her was an excuse not to focus on myself.

“Maya!” I hear her sunshiny chirp before I see her weaving her way around a couple of clusters of people standing near the pool. She skips my way with her arms outstretched, smiling from ear to ear like I’m just the person she wanted to see. “There you are! I’ve been waiting for you.”

It would be so nice if I could experience the sort of uncomplicated happiness she clearly feels right now. She does not have a single fake bone in her body—I’ve never known anybody more sincere, straight to the point, honest. I know she’s not pretending to be happier than she is. It’s sort of humblingand definitely overwhelming, and it makes me want to tell her to find somebody worthy of her kindness. I’m certainly not.

“Sorry it took me so long to get here. I was trying to figure out what to wear,” I explain after returning her hug. Right now, it seems like I am slightly overdressed. Most of the girls are either walking around in just their bathing suits, or they are wearing shorts with their bikini tops.

“You look gorgeous.” She links an arm with mine before leaning in and whispering, “I need a little help.”

Helping, I can do. It’s a distraction. “With what? Getting drinks out and stuff?”

“Oh, no. This is the first time I’ve ever hosted a party, and I’m totally clueless.” She grimaces almost comically before her eyes go wide. “What if I mess something up? I want everything to go right.”

The level of strain in her voice leaves me feeling a little strained, and suddenly the warm breeze stirring my hair feels chilly. “I thought this was just going to be a casual sort of thing.”

“It is,” she insists, even as more guests pour through the gate separating the backyard from the side of the house. Every new face heightens the tension that’s already settled into my joints. “I just don’t want to mess up.”

“You won’t mess up. There’s nothing to mess up,” I assure her. “Just relax and be yourself.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She makes a face again, this time looking frightened. “Being myself.”

All I can do is tell her the only truth I know. “None of them are worth it. And everybody is just as busy worrying about themselves as you are. I bet they’re not even paying attention to you. Just focus on having fun.”

“Do you really think so?” The hope in her eyes and her voice is touching.

“I know. I grew up around a lot of these people, remember?” I point out. “So it’s all right. Relax, remember the reason you’re here, and that Briggs thinks you’re amazing. Which you are.”

“Okay, you’re going to make me cry.” Impulsively, she throws her arms around me and squeezes, and I find myself wishing I had it in me to truly feel anything. I’m just numb, no matter how I pretend otherwise.

It’s a good thing I’m so numb, really, because the last person I want to see happens to be the one person now walking through the gate and strolling onto the patio. The way he looks around, anybody would guess he owns the place. He’s that arrogant, sure of himself, looking almost bored as he scans his surroundings.

That is, until our eyes meet and his narrow. My already icy insides go even colder in recognition.

“Tucker! Hey!” Briggs spots him from the other side of the pool and lifts his hand in greeting. “I didn’t think you were coming!”

Tucker answers him, but his gaze never wanders from me. “Neither did I, and I’m starting to wish I hadn’t. You’ll let anybody in here nowadays, won’t you?” His nose wrinkles as he looks me up and down, just in case there was any question as to who he’s talking about.

And there I was, thinking I could handle this.

3

TUCKER

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