Page 1 of Cold and Broken (The Titans of Founder's Ridge 1)

1

Lilith

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me, Lil.” My best friend Zion slides down the wall of my empty bedroom to the floor. “It’s our senior year. Are you sure your dad won’t let you move in with me and ma? He has to know you’ll be safe with me.”

“Yeah,” I sigh as I finish closing the last box. “I’m sure. It sucks.” I hold my hand out to help him up but he yanks me down into his lap. I know I need to get going but we both need these last few moments of comfort with each other.

I spend time studying the ink that covers his dark arms, including the tattoo on his chest that matches the one on my hip bone. We each got double infinity symbols with each other’s names in them when dad told me about this job six weeks ago. We’ve been inseparable since kindergarten when I was getting pushed around on the playground for being the only white girl, and by white I mean I look like I just walked out of a cave after five years. I have natural platinum blonde hair with bright blue eyes and a smattering of freckles over my nose.

Zion has the most perfect, dark and smooth skin set off by light moss green eyes. His hair’s texture is naturally curly and he keeps the curls lose on top of his head with a shaved fade down the sides. Honestly, he’s so attractive and athletically gifted it’s almost unfair. He’s been on the varsity basketball team since our freshman year of high school because he’s a literal giant at 6’7. We’ve always drawn puzzled looks at best and straight out antagonistic looks at worst, even though there’s never been a time that we’ve crossed the line beyond friendship.

I lean my forehead against his and breathe in his scent, coconut oil and his spicy body wash. “I’m gonna miss your ass.” A tear threatens to escape my prickling eyes so I reach out and twist his nipple hard.

“Ow!” He cries out on an outraged laugh. “What was that for?”

“I’m about to cry.” I mumble. “I figured that’d distract me.”

He pulls me close and buries his face in my hair. “I’ll let it go without retaliation this time.” He sniffles and wipes his eye.

“Are you crying?” I pull back in surprise. I’ve never seen him cry. We’ve lost four friends, including his cousin, in the past three years to gang and gun violence and he’s not shed a tear. At least not in front of me.

“Ugh,” his lips tilt up in a sad smile, “yeah. Twelve years together and you’re leaving before our victory lap. Birthdays?”

We made a pact that we would come see each other on our birthdays. Mine is in October so we won’t have to wait too long. He’s already got his plane ticket. His in June.

“Yes. Daily FaceTime too.” I point at him, he’s terrible about answering the phone. I cast a melancholic look around my room before standing up. “We better take these last boxes down to the truck.”

He unfolds himself and grabs three boxes leaving me with the last one. We walk through the little bungalow style house my dad and I have shared for the past decade after mom left. Dad’s double checking the hitch to make sure the connection is good.

“You two ready for your see ya laters?” He looks up at us with mischief and a bit of sympathy. I know he feels bad pulling me away for my last year of high school but this opportunity is just too good to pass by. I wouldn’t ask that of him anyway. “We have a solid 15 hour drive ahead of us to Founder’s Ridge.”

“Even the name sounds like white privilege,” Zion quips. “One last attempt to get you to let Lil stay back here with me.” Z holds his hands in the prayer position. “Don’t take my girl.”

“Sorry, Z. I can’t leave her behind.” He pulls Zion in for a tough guy hug and solid pound on the back. My dad cuffs him on the cheek and then points at him, “You stay out of trouble. Keep your eyes on the goal, D1 basketball scholarship.”

“Yes, sir.” Z nods.

“I’ll let you two say goodbye.” Dad jogs over and jumps in the cab of his truck.

Z holds out his arms and I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. His arms squeeze around my back. He kisses my cheek and whispers, “I love you, Lil.”

“I love you, too, Z.” I can’t stop the tears. “Fuck. Put me down before someone sees I have feelings.”

“Nah.” He gives me one more squeeze before setting me on my feet. Dad honks the truck horn in a not so subtle attempt to get us to hurry up. I walk back toward the truck and pound my fist over my heart twice and then point at him. He does it back. It’s our own way of saying goodbye and I love you without words.

With one last glance in the rearview mirror I watch Z rub his hand over his face, wiping the tears I know he held back for my benefit. I look over at dad and he’s holding a tissue out for me. “This sucks.”

“I know, baby girl.” He pats me on the leg. “Your birthday will be here soon enough though and you’ll see him then. Plus, I’m sure you’ll make a lot of new friends. Victor’s son, Connor, is a senior too. I’m sure he’ll help you meet people and get settled in.”

I respond with a noncommittal hum. I have no clue what I’m walking into. Apparently we’re shacking up in the guest wing of my dad’s employer’s mansion. My schooling is covered as part of our paid expenses. I promised dad I’d keep an open mind but I’m expecting the worst. A bunch of entitled douchebags who live off trust funds and get away with way too much because they’re rich.

“You want to control the tunes?” my dad, the 6’ former Marine and biggest nerd on the planet, asks.

“No one says ‘tunes’ anymore, dad,” I say while I pull up some of my most angsty music on my phone and connect it to Bluetooth. Four hours of Billie Eilish coming up. I’m betting he doesn’t make it past Indianapolis before switching to 90s rock.

* * *

We drove straight through the night to get to Founder’s Ridge. The past few hours of the drive have been prettier than I expected. Anything beats driving through the flat expanses of Midwest farmland. The GPS informs us our destination is ahead on the left. Dad and I share a glance as we come upon a tree lined drive.

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