Page 19 of Soul So Dark
He’s not wrong, but I cast him a sideways glance anyway, recalling whatever happened in the library yesterday that clearly put Sydney in a foul mood. “She should be used to your sadism by now.”
“How did I get pegged as the sadistic one?” Aiden asks with feigned offense, then nods to Colson in front of me, “That motherfucker’s more heinous than I am.”
“Yeah, but he kisses them beforehand,” I counter, “and after.”
“It keeps them coming back for more,” Colson winks at me over his shoulder.
Aiden rolls his eyes dismissively. “Only because I don’t have the patience for that smoke and mirrors bullshit.”
“Accept it,” Colson says with a shrug, “you’re pegged as sadistic, and Mason just gets pegged.”
Mason doesn’t say a word, keeping pace with Colson. A few months ago, Mason would’ve hauled off and knocked Colson’s jaw loose for a comment like that. That’s probably what Colson was hoping for, something to distract him and get the adrenaline pumping. Mason always gives him a good fight when he wants one, but not anymore. This time, Mason just stares straight ahead with the faintest of smiles.
God, what a simp.
The senior parking lot is abuzz with the usual shouts and whoops as cars squeal out of spaces and sling-shot toward the exit. Our vehicles are scattered across the opposite end of the lot, along the chain link fence. And as we approach the far corner, I see a figure leaning against the hood of Colson’s Civic, and then realize that the same blue eyes from the cafeteria are looking back at me from the edge of a thick curtain of shiny black hair.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dallas
“We’re going next door to meet Sydney,” Evie declares, bracing herself in Colson’s doorway.
I peer around her shoulder at Colson as he stares at us from his desk chair. Swiveling back and forth, he glances between us and then screws up his mouth.
“That’s OK,” he stifles a laugh, “I already met her.”
“What do you mean?” Evie clips through slitted eyes. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Colson laughs. “I have class with her. It’s just—” he pauses, considering his words, “Aiden made the introductions pretty memorable.”
“God,” Evie groans in exasperation, “never mind.”
She drops her arms from the door frame and turns around with a roll of her eyes. I hesitate at Colson’s door, shooting him a curious look, to which he shakes his head with another laugh and goes back to his phone. He’s probably texting the three of them right now, talking about whatever cryptic explanation he just gave Evie as to why he’s not going next door with us to meet Sydney. Realizing I’m not going to get anything else from him, I follow Evie downstairs and out the back door.
Sydney Van Doren moved into the mansion on the other side of the woods right before school started. At least that’s what Colson said. If he hadn’t mentioned her, I don’t think I ever would’ve noticed. Then again, you’d never know her house was even there if not for the mailbox set inside a brick pillar next to ours. The entrance of their driveway quickly disappears into a dense tunnel of trees that runs parallel to our property.
Van Doren…she sounds like she belongs in that house.
“What if she’s not happy to see us?” I ask Evie, alluding to whatever antics Aiden and the rest of them might’ve pulled.
“I guarantee she’ll be happy to see us if her first impressions were anything like Col said.”
I glance over at her long, vibrant red hair bouncing against her back. Then I take a moment to feel mine do the same. My hair is long and thick like hers, but she blew it out for me and gave it some curl just a few minutes ago, which makes it feel like a glamorous cloud around my shoulders.
Evie and I head toward the back of the yard, where the trees aren’t as thick, and make our way through a path worn through the woods that connects the two properties. It’s been here for as long as I can remember, but I’ve only ever walked it a couple of times. This time, I’m glad I’m with Evie because it’s getting dark and she knows the way.
Finally, we emerge onto a vast lawn, immaculately trimmed that reveals the grey stone mansion looking out onto Hellbranch Creek. It looks like a haunted Victorian out of an old horror movie that belongs in the Hollywood Hills. And I’m terrified. I don’t know why, but for some reason I expect a pack of guard dogs to come rushing across the grass, ready to tear us limb from limb. But Evie just moseys up the hill, without a care in the world. Probably because she’s been here more times than me and survived to tell the tale.
Now I’m just being dramatic, but it only matches the ambiance of this place. Our house is nice, but I don’t know where this one came from—like it sprouted out of the ground one day or some mysterious millionaire built it as a hideout in the middle of the cornfields.
“Hi!” Evie jogs up the stone steps onto the veranda, waving at a girl sitting in an Adirondack chair next to the pool.
The girl jerks her head up from the book in her lap, her silvery blue eyes popping against her fair skin and long, icy blonde hair. I’m shocked to see that she looks like she belongs in an ad campaign for Chanel instead of in Dire Ridge, and she looks just as surprised to see us.
“Hello,” she replies in a pleasant voice laced with mild suspicion.
“I’m Evie,” Evie nods over her shoulder at me, “and this is Dallas. We’re Colson’s sisters, we live next door.” Then she corrects herself. “Well, Dallas lives there all the time, I just come on weekends. I mostly live with my mom in Canaan.”
