Page 88 of I Blame the Rival

A flush creeps up my neck and spreads across my face. Amber looks embarrassed by her son’s question while Skylar looks like he’s about to explode.

“Uh, no. I was never a model.”

Vector smiles, “Such a waste. You have the most enticing figure.”

“Stop it.” Skylar’s voice slices through the room, “Stop objectifying her.”

Vector ignores him and shakes his head with a sigh, “A pretty face and a pretty body. There isn’t much more a guy can ask for.”

Humiliation drips through me as I stare back at him, slowly removing my hand from Skylar’s tight grip.

“Vector! That is not how we speak to our guests.” Amber shakes her head before turning to me, “I am so sorry, Lacey, I don’t know what’s gotten into-

“May I be excused? I need to use the washroom.”

“Of course, dear. Just around the corner by the front door.”

I can feel the weight of Skylar’s stare when I get up and leave, but I don’t acknowledge it. Keeping my head down, I hurry from the kitchen, fighting back tears every step of the way.

The staircase to go upstairs is just across from the main bathroom and I take it without thinking. There’s another bathroom just across from Skylar’s room and right now I need a floor between me and the hurtful words that were spoken by his brother.

I make it into the bathroom just before the dam breaks. Collapsing against the door, I slide to the floor, crying into my knees as Vector’s taunts bring back a wave of memories, harsh reminders of how cruel people can be when they no longer see you as a friend.

Did she really think her long legs were going to be enough to keep him around?

She’s never been much more than a pretty face.

Can she at least pretend to be okay? It’s not our fault she wasn’t what he was looking for.

I hug my knees closer, letting my past stain the dark material of my leggings. The cold tiles of the bathroom floor dig into myass and I use it as silent encouragement to pull myself together. Hiccups float out of my mouth as I glance around the small bathroom, noticing for the first time the artwork hung along the walls.

Pushing my trembling body off the ground, I amble towards the closest one. It’s a landscape of Silverwood University, the metallic dome rising up like a wave about to crash down on the idyllic town below.

The cruel voices start to fade as I travel to the next one, Skylar’s confident strokes of colour such a contrast to the grey setting he uses for most of the drawings. His artwork is a mesmerizing blend of darkness and hope, the seeds of his own life planted within each picture.

I know nothing about art, but even I can tell Skylar has incredible talent.

There’s one last picture hanging above the bathroom mirror, so I hop up on the counter to see it. My knee cracks the sink base cabinet and the sound of breaking glass hits my ears.

Now I’ve done it.

Feeling like the worst guest in the world, I quickly drop to the floor and pry open the cabinet door. Bottles of hair and shaving products got toppled over during my climb, but nothing screams broken.

Once everything is back in place, I gentle close the door. It snaps shut with a thud, and I hear the sound again.

Glass knocking against glass.

I frown, opening up the cabinet and taking another look. Everything is how I left it, the plastic bottles are undamaged and there are no leaks in sight. Shifting the door to get a better look inside, I hear the sound again.

What the hell?

I crouch down and study the back of the cabinet door. A molding juts out about halfway down, the colour painted to look identical to the rest of the plywood. Prying my nail inside the opening, the entire thing comes loose in my hands.

There’s a small white bag tucked between the molding’s grooves, and I can just make out the rigid outline of glass through the material. Pulling the bag from its hiding spot, I open it and peer inside.

And suddenly nothing makes sense.

Being careful not to break anything, I pull out the syringe and set it on the bathroom counter. It’s medical grade, the type you would expect to see in a hospital setting, but that isn’t the part that has me confused.

---