Page 39 of The Hate We Breathe
“You’ve got all three of the Scorpion Kings eating out of your hand,” Roquel comments. “Of course it’s where you want to be.Most girls would sell their souls for a fraction of that kind of power.”
“Power?” I give her a side-long glance.
She gestures out to the field. “They’re the Kings,” she says as if it’s not that ridiculous name that she and most of the school uses for them. “They control the students of Public, sell to the prep school. Fuck who they want. Fight when they want. And no one dares to cross them.”
No one except Darrio and Morpheus, but I don’t say as much. Instead, I merely offer a hum and a, “Power always has a price.” Those guys—myguys—they’ve paid it. We all have.
Roquel falls silent again for a long while. The echoes of male grunts, blowing whistles, and Coach yelling fill the air. Every once in a while, I’ll glance over and take her in. Months ago, she’d been a nobody to me. Just a tour guide with a mouthful of unasked-for advice. Though she had gotten me a job when I’d needed one. She’d been a friend when being alone was dangerous. She… helped me. I wonder how I can help her too.
“You know—” She glances at me when I speak. “—we’re still really fucking young. Whatever guy you’re depressed about now, he’ll eventually be nothing more than a memory in your rearview. Fuck him.”
I offer her a smile at those final words, hoping that she’ll smile back. She doesn’t. Instead, her lips quiver as if she’s fighting back a sob. My grin drops. Before I can say anything, Roquel stands up.
“Not this one, Juliet,” she murmurs. “Not this time.”
Blinking, I reach up and grab her wrist, stopping her from rushing off. “Roquel?”
She laughs, the sound hollow and brittle. It grates along my nerve endings. “Thanks for trying,” she says, “but we both know you’re living your dream.”
“I’m—”
She doesn’t let me get another word out as she motions to the field. “Those men? They’d do anything for you.” She scoffs as if she doesn’t understand, or maybe as if it hurts her that the guy she loved isn’t the same.
“My life isn’t perfect,” I remind her.
“No?” Roquel tilts her head down at me. “You were living in a mansion and never had to worry about a damn thing. Even when you fall, you always manage to land on your feet.” She shakes her head, eyes wide. “I can’t understand how you do it. Every time I turn around, you’re…” She stops talking and tugs on her wrist. I hold on.
“Appearances can be deceiving,” I tell her. That’s all Morpheus ever was. A deception. My old life? The money, the supposed power, the luxury? None of it was ever mine. If it was, then it couldn’t have been taken so easily.
“I hate that about you,” she admits.
“What?”
Her expression is… strange. Not grief, exactly. Something darker. “You don’t even know how fucking lucky you are.”
I certainly hadn’t felt lucky, though. Not when my ex cheated on me with my supposed best friend. Not when my dad was arrested or my mom left. Not when my apartment burned down. Not when I’d lost my job. Not when Morpheus had blackmailed me or raped me.
But she doesn’t know most of that, hasn’t seen it. The truth, to her, is colored in what I’ve allowed her to see. The reality sits somewhere behind my teeth, unwilling to come out, unwilling to be vulnerable just like she is.
“Jules!”
I look down at the shout to see Madison. “I’ve got to go.” Roquel manages to pull herself free from my grasp and starts down the stairs. My attention switches back to her. I frown asshe hurries away, wrapping her arms tight around herself as if she’s trying to hide.
Guilt swamps me. She was vulnerable with me and damn, but I couldn’t be the same with her. Even if she’d stayed, I don’t know that I’d have told her the truth.
The creak and squeals of the metal bleachers ricochet in my ears and I turn to look down again as Mads begins clinging upward. Her blonde ponytail sways with her rushed movements, a flash of golden sunshine in a storm.
By the time she gets to me, Roquel is long gone and Mads is huffing and frowning. “Where’d Roquel go?” she asks.
“She had somewhere to be,” I say, not sure if it’s a lie or not. Hopefully, wherever she’s going now will be a better place than her head.
16
JULIET
Morpheus’ funeral arrives and it’s a fucking spectacle. Despite the recent dreary weather and the incoming chill of winter encroaching on fall’s territory, the sun is actually shining on the day. It makes a small kernel of amusement bubble up in my chest as I stare out of the window from the back seat of Lex’s SUV. Just like all good things, though, it evaporates quickly.
There’s a line to get into the cemetery.A fucking line.All in memory of a man who was rotting long before he was ever actually dead.
