Page 23 of Soulless Rivalry

A sniffling sound brought me back from my musings and caused me to freeze.

It was a little past eight at night, everybody was in the dining hall and the library was mostly empty, especially the secondfloor where I was. It would fill up again right after dinner when people came in for a couple of hours of studying before curfew.

Another sniffle echoed around me, making me frown and push away from the desk, the book I’d been trying to study long forgotten. I walked stealthily through the rows of books, following the silent weeping until finally I came face to face with its source.

His back against a shelf, Charles had his knees brought back to his chest, his forehead resting against them as soft sobs racked his body.

He wasn’t built by any means, if anything he was a little scrawny, but right then he looked even smaller. My heart squeezed at the sight because although I had never felt the same pain he was going through, I was no stranger to loss.

Biting my lip, I took a step towards him before calling softly, “Charles?”

He startled, his head snapping up before he wiped angrily at his cheeks, clearly embarrassed to have been caught in this position.

“H-hey, Elyssa.” His gaze was evading mine, he couldn’t look me in the eyes.

I walked up to where he was and plopped myself next to him, my back against the shelves. For the longest time, neither of us spoke, we just stared silently in the distance until Charles decided to speak.

“I can’t believe he’s gone.” His voice was broken and hoarse, still in shock. “He was my best friend, you know? I’m not… cool or super interesting. I know people call me boring behind my back. I’ve had so many people befriend me for my father’s money or connections over the years. I know many people don’t understand the relationship between animals and humans, but Buxley… I loved him more than I do most people.”

His face crumpled as he said the last part aloud, like maybe that was the first time he was admitting it. Or, maybe, it was that his words had hit home and he finally realized Buxley was gone for good.

Either way, my heart broke a little at the pain etching itself on his face. Before I could think about it, I reached out and brought him in for a hug, not caring that this was not in my nature or that he seemed as startled as I felt.

I was too fucking empathetic to watch someone cry without offering any kind of comfort. After years spent handling sorrow and grief on my own, it wasn’t something I would wish on anybody.

Charles shrugged off his surprise pretty quickly and hugged me back, squeezing me tight.

He was silently crying, tears soaking the neck of my shirt, while I gently rubbed his back. I had to admit I wasn’t extremely comfortable, but I could tell Charles needed a friend and a deep sense of pity and guilt made me want to be there for him.

A little voice in the back of my mind kept on telling me that I could have kept it from happening. If I’d realized yesterday that the people roaming the halls weren’t guards but sickos who liked to hurt animals, maybe I could have alerted someone, left a clue somewhere… anything to keep the morbid spectacle from this morning from happening.

As I sat there, silently rummaging through my brain in search of what to do, my eyes caught sight of icy cold ones, a few feet away from us.

Konstantin stopped in his tracks, taking in the cozy scene Charles and I painted, before narrowing his eyes at me. Something in his jaw twitched but I maintained his gaze. My hand on Charles’s back tensed a little but he didn’t seem to notice.

Neither of us said anything, and he eventually kept walking towards the stairs, a few rows behind us.

I willed my heart to stop beating so fast, but it just wouldn’t listen.

Mia: Where the fuck are you!!! Curfew is in three minutes.

Me: Sorry, didn’t see the time! I’m almost in my room. Call you soon.

Mia: K. Just a heads up tho, I’m a little high.

I rolled my eyes, not bothering with an answer. She knew I didn’t like it when she smoked pot, mostly because it had become some kind of coping mechanism and I didn’t want it to escalate.

When we were sixteen, Mia was sent to rehab because she’d gotten addicted to cocaine. Viola was the one who initiated her to it during one of those private high school parties I was never invited to.

There was a time when she and Mia were on good terms. That bitch knew to never put me down in front of Mia and even went as far as lying and saying she liked me but I was the one not wanting to put the past behind us. Back then, Mia refused to choose between her two cousins, so she didn’t. Like many rich kids, Viola sometimes did molly and liked to snort a line when the occasion presented itself, which she introduced Mia to.

Her family life was in such shambles at the time, even worse than usual, that she went too far down the rabbit hole and got herself addicted to it. Those were some of the worst months of my life. Having to endure her meanness whenever I tried to reason with her was hell. Not having anyone to talk to becausemy best friend was more interested in hooking up with her dealer was pure torture.

She said some things to me during that time, about my parents and my old life, that deeply hurt, but I’d since forgiven her. It wasn’t her talking, it was this aggressive and mean version of her under the influence.

The day her parents found out, Mia’s father beat her up badly. He was always a violent fuck, but rarely to her. My aunt and Lorenzo always took the brunt of it.

Mia went away to rehab for six months and she came back like her old self, thank the Lord.

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