Page 210 of Vicious Saint
An awkward silence passes, as if everyone except Archer is waiting to hear what I have to say.
Which is for them to not hold their damn breaths.
There’s a reason I’m standing on the outskirts of this little celebratory circle—the reason being the traitor in black, white, and gold.
I will not be the one to cave here, not when Saint hasn’t even bothered with an apology outside of pretending not to watch me in each of our classes.
Follow me around like a hawk.
As if I haven’t memorized the distinctive heat from his stare, his scent, his neurological fucking pathways.
As if he hasn’t memorized mine.
Swallowing my disgrace, I look down at my Chucks, counting the splatters of soda Theory left on them.
I don’t get far before that same distinctive heat is causing blood to rush from my heart straight to my head.
Like a moth to a flame, my eyes drift to Saint, who’s quick to turn away.
“Hey there, Mr. Lavell.” Annalie appears out of nowhere, strutting over to Theory without enough respect to acknowledge my mother.
Another one of step sis’s petty retaliations:
Becoming besties with the enemy.
The growl I’ve got going is loud enough for my mother to demand I let it go under her breath.
God I’m so tired of letting shit go…and being okay with it to honor the happiness she found.
The only satisfaction in this situation is how the father Annalie’s so desperate to impress refuses to look at her.
“Annalie!” Theory squeals, looping an arm around hers. “You did amazing tonight.”
“As did your brother.” She bats her lashes at Saint. “I’m so proud of him.”
Someone find me a bucket to gag into, please.
Like his father, Saint doesn’t acknowledge her existence, just goes on doing the staring thing.
“You kids have any plans tonight?” Mom asks.
“I’ll be with Annalie.” Theory lifts her chin, eyes piercing me. “A little girl time.”
With a tight smile, my mother adds, “You two have been getting pretty close, I see.”
“Oh, yeah, you bet.” She squeezes Annalie to her. “Annalie’s the sister I always wanted.”
That one stung like the nasty bee she’s been acting like, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing it.
Can’t say the same for my mom, because for the first time in the weeks Theory has been shoving this bitch down our throats, she looks pissed.
That is…until Saint is jolted back to life.
“Where the fuck you think you’re going tonight?”
“The bonfire. Like everyone else, duh.”
“You’re fucking high if you think I’ll allow it.”
