Freezing Bonds that Tie our Hearts (Blood and Water #2)

1. Nova

Light shone through the window of my room as I put my pen down on the blank paper.

I felt restless and for once, writing didn’t seem to soothe me. My fingers toyed with the gold bracelet I always wore, the one with a star charm dangling from it. My sisters each had a similar one. Aurora’s was a sun and Celena had a moon.

Our mom had given them to us four years ago, when Celena was born.

She had a thing for astronomy, our mom.

Funny since most of the time, it felt like she was the center of my universe. The only person who truly got me. Whenever my thoughts would start to be too much, she was there to help me. She told me what to do to make them quiet, she taught me how to understand them.

She was my favorite person on this planet.

So when she killed herself, my whole world crumbled down.

I think I died a little too, that day. We all did.

My sisters and I had lost our mother, dad had lost his best friend. We were all heartbroken and in pain.

Everything changed after that. Life just didn’t taste the same without her and nobody could understand me the way she did.

I hated to admit it, but I resented her. I resented her for leaving me alone in a world I only knew how to navigate with her.

Then people in the city started asking questions. What could have pushed Celeste Starling to commit suicide?

She was such a happy soul.

She was always smiling.

She loved her family.

Of course she did. Of course she was. It doesn’t mean one is safe from dark thoughts. It doesn’t mean one is not prone to depression.

I wish I could say I didn’t know why she did it, but the truth was, I knew how loud dark thoughts could get. I knew how deep and cutting they could be. And sometimes, I thought as I felt my eyes fall shut, it felt like the only thing that could make them stop was deep, deep slumber.

“Nova?”

My eyes blinked open at the voice coming from my bedroom’s door. I looked up, closing my journal and facing my little sister who seemed wary.

I gave her a beaming smile to reassure her, although I knew she’d see right through me. That was the thing about Rory. She didn’t understand me, but she saw me.

She always had.

“Hey, Pipsqueak. What’s up?”

Folding a leg under me, I straightened up and patted my bedding, inviting her to sit down with me and she did.

“Nothing. Dad said to tell you breakfast is ready. He made blueberry pancakes.” She smiled and I smiled back, putting a braid that had fallen in front of her eyes behind her ear.

I’d spent the better part of last week-end styling her hair into bohemian braids and although it had been tedious, I hadn’t minded at all. I liked things that took time and meticulousness. I had both in spades. I liked being able to focus on one task for a large amount of time because that just helped keep my mind at rest. That was probably why I had picked up sewing as a hobby five years ago now.

Rory’s dark eyes matched mine and right then they looked worried. She was not even thirteen yet, her birthday a few months away, but she was so wise it felt like she was the older sister sometimes.

Aurora was also one of the smartest people I knew, and that wasn’t the sisterly pride talking. She had an abnormally high IQ and excelled at school. So much that her teachers had asked my dad if he wanted her to skip a few grades numerous times. He’d always refused because Rory didn’t want to. She wanted to stay with people her age.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Nova? Did you have another dream?” Her hand came to hold mine and I squeezed, my smile wavering. I couldn’t hide anything from her.

“Yeah. I swear they get more realistic with time. Sometimes I still can hear her voice when I wake up. I can still see and feel her.” I gulped, looking away.

“You know, sometimes our brains do what they have to do to put our hearts at ease. I wish I could see her or hear her again. Just once.”

I said nothing and simply rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb. As I said, Rory didn’t understand how much it hurt getting to talk to someone you loved more than life itself, to feel them and listen to them, only to blink and see they disappeared. That they were never there to begin with.

It felt like losing them all over again.

It felt a lot like losing my head too.

“Come on. Those blueberry pancakes aren’t gonna eat themselves.” I got up and pulled on her hand so she would follow after me.

She probably wanted to add something but decided against it, simply following me downstairs instead. I was glad she didn’t try to ask more questions and wordlessly agreed to stop talking about this.

I threw an arm around her shoulders as we made our way down the stairs sharing a smile.

We were only three weeks into the school year and the workload was already almost smothering me. Contrary to my little sister, I was no genius. I got good grades, because I worked like crazy to earn them and because my twelve year old sister tutored me— yes, nobody knew about that but Rory was the best freaking tutor out there.

I was far from ending up valedictorian but still, my grades were good.

“There you are.” Dad greeted us as soon as we came downstairs. “Two of my favorite girls.”

“Hey! I thought I was your favorite girl, daddy!” Celena’s little voice squealed from her chair as she glared at our dad, looking betrayed.

She looked ridiculous in a purple princess gown and matching tiara. The little menace had a light blue feather boa thrown around her neck and gigantic sunglasses that took up half of her face.

“Sorry, mosquito, he said what he said.” Rory took her seat at the table and pulled her tongue at Cece. I rolled my eyes because a twelve year old was still gonna act like one, no matter how high their IQ.

“Hey, no calling your sister insect names.” Dad gave her a pointed look while he scooped a few pancakes on her plate. “You’re my fav girl, baby. You know you are.” He smiled at Cece and she seemed content with that knowledge.

She waited until he looked away from her to pull her tongue at Rory though.

The first month after school started was always the best because dad made it his mission to be home as much as possible. Life was always really light and warm during that time. Then it went back to the stressful and fast lifestyle we grew accustomed to. Still, dad tried and that was the best we could ask for. For the great Damon Starling, that was saying a lot.

When mom died three years ago, he did his best to continue raising us on his own, but being who he was, it was hard to manage work and a household.

My dad was one of the best attorneys in the country. He represented the biggest firms, the most famous people, and he got very well paid for it. One reason for his success was that he was ruthless. He never let anything show and had no compassion for anyone as soon as he entered the courtroom.

Over the years, I’ve had friends saying how crazy it was that a man as merciless would have sweet and caring daughters like us. That it must be hard living with a man so strict and cold. To the outside eye, that’s how he seemed.

What they didn’t know was that the man they called a shark in a suit was also a big teddy bear at home. To me, he would always be the dad that had tea dates with Rory and I wearing matching princess tiaras. And who continued to have them with Celena once a week. He would always be the dad who made us breakfast every morning, came to every one of our dance recitals as kids and even once stayed still for two hours straight just so I could use him as a mannequin for one of my little sewing projects. No matter how many times I pricked him with my pins.

“Slept well, princess?” Dad pressed a kiss to my forehead when I sat down and put some pancakes on my plate.

My eyes briefly found Rory’s before I plastered on a smile and nodded. “Like a baby.”

I noticed how my sister pinched her lips together, probably disappointed that I hadn’t told him what I’d told her earlier.

But as I said, no one could understand the thoughts in my brain.

And the last thing I wanted my dad to think was that I was like mom. I resembled her enough as it was.

***

“My God, someone shut her up!” Zainab, one of my closest friends, groaned, letting her head fall against the locker next to mine with a thud.

I chuckled lightly, putting my books away.

“Well excuse me for wanting to protect my best friends from harm! I truly am a horrible person, am I not?” The tall blond next to me retorted, throwing her hands in the air, agitated.

“There will be no zombies or aliens, Jelena. Seriously, chill out.” Another calmer voice pitched in.

“How would you know that? Because you’ve never seen one? Or because you trust the government to tell us if a threat like that comes to be?” Jelena scoffed, crossing her arms against her chest, finding the mere thought stupid and delusional.

“Girl, you’re out here trying to tell us how to survive a zombie apocalypse thinking we’d want to survive in the first place. I’d just sit the fuck down and wait until they come and eat me.”

“You say that now, but once your fight or flight instinct kicks in you’ll be bashing skulls left and right, you just wait—”

“Okay, I think it’s enough for now.”

I loved my friends. I truly did. But sometimes they acted like they were my kids, fighting and arguing over the most trivial things. As you could probably tell, Jelena watched The Last of Us last weekend, and my conspiracy-theory-enthusiast friend was now convinced zombies were—or would be, a thing.

“Seriously you guys, I’m telling you we need to invest in bunkers and gather stockpiles of food, like right now. I think if we all pitched in we could buy some top of the line bunker with, like, room for eight people or something. Us four, plus Nova’s sisters, their dad and Mei’s cousin.” I frowned.

“Why would my dad stay with us?”

“Because,” she rolled her eyes like the answer was obvious, “We’d need eye candy in these rough times, Nova. That’s why Mei’s cousin would be with us too. Not to mention, we’d have to repopulate the Earth.”

I gagged.

“Your obsession with my cousin has to end, Jelena.”

“I mean, I’m with her on this. In a zombie apocalypse, they’d make the best eye-candy.” Zainab shrugged, fixing up her hijab in the small mirror glued to my locker’s door.

“Seriously, stop talking about my dad, that’s weird.” I gave them a stern look but they simply rolled their eyes.

“That’s what you get for having a young dad who likes to hit the gym four times a week.”

“Or should I say, a daddy…”

Jelena snickered, lifting a hand and Zainab slapped it in high five. I swear these two were like toddlers sometimes. Mei sent me an apologetic look that said even she agreed with what was being said about my dad and I simply shook my head in mock disappointment.

They drove me mad sometimes, and their obsession with my dad was weird and bordering on creepy, but I loved my friends.

Even though all three of them were born and raised here in Ravenbridge, it wasn’t until I moved here three years ago when we were fifteen that they started acknowledging each other’s presence. We quickly became inseparable, especially Zee and I since we lived only two houses away from each other. Jelena lived a street over and Mei lived in a whole other part of town.

We called it the North side.

See, Ravenbridge was a weird little town, divided right in the middle by a river you could only cross through a bridge— the people in charge of the name didn’t go really far, I guess.

Because she came from north of the bridge, people referred to Mei as a Northie.

There was a real schism between the two sides of Ravenbridge and I’d always thought it was messed up. Whenever I went there to hang out with Mei or drove her home from school, the one thing that never ceased to sadden me was the stark difference in scenery between both parts of town.

Where our side, the South, was all mansions and country clubs, Michelin stars restaurants and luxurious stores, the North was full of decrepit parks, pawn shops, and trailer lots. They even had a stripper joint from what I’d heard.

Originally, each side had their own high school but I was told that Northern High burned down four years ago and that no funds would be granted to the town to rebuild it given the fact that Southern High was plenty big enough for all of us. The parents’ body was not really enthusiastic about having to welcome kids they considered to be criminals in the making but there was nothing they could do about it.

Personally, I believed this whole thing was ridiculous. The school was the only neutral ground where we all mixed up and we were all just fine. I mean, granted, most people stayed with their own crew anyways, but the separation wasn’t as blatant as it was out there. Some parents, like Jelena’s for one, refused to let their kids hang out with Northies. She did anyways because Jelena wouldn’t be herself without that rebellious streak, and she loved pissing them off. Zee’s parents didn’t care who she hung out with as long as they weren’t boys and didn’t do drugs. And my dad, well, he was the first to say you shouldn’t judge a book by the store you bought it in.

Sometimes, small book stores sold real gems while other bigger ones only had superficial aberrations with no deeper meaning.

The bell rang, making Jelena groan. Mei chuckled and swung an arm around her neck before they started walking to their first class. Zainab linked her arm with mine as we walked towards ours. People said hi as we made our way there, and we responded in kind.

As I said, the school was the only ground where we all truly mixed together, and it was relatively peaceful. I personally got along with everyone, Northy and Southy alike, but as Zee would say, it might have been because I wasn’t born and raised here. I didn’t have it hammered into my brain that as a Southy I was worth more than Northies like most of the kids born and raised in Ravenbridge South have.

“Please, settle down.”

Mrs. Diaz was by far my favorite teacher. She was just so poised and elegant, so nice and soft, always smiling. She wasn’t even thirty yet and her being so young made it easier to communicate with us I guess. Today she was wearing a light blue dress that stopped below her knees and hugged her curves— and especially her pregnant belly, perfectly. I loved that dress, even more since I’d been the one to make it.

That was kind of my thing, I guess. I loved sewing and creating clothes. Mrs Diaz often complimented me on the way I dressed and one day I’d told her I made basically all of my clothes. She was surprised and asked if I took in commissions. I ended up making four dresses for her, the fabric I’d used was especially stretchable since I wanted her to be able to wear them throughout her pregnancy.

And she had. Her seven months belly protruded underneath the material and she looked phenomenal with her shiny black hair falling around her shoulders. She sent me a smile to which I responded before taking my seat. Zainab sat next to me and just like that, the ruckus started to die down until we eventually were all ready to start the class.

Just as Mrs Diaz was about to start her lesson, the door was thrown open again and a really deep, irritating voice was heard.

Now, I was not the type to dislike, let alone hate anyone. I aimed at being nice to everyone around me, part because it was in my nature, and part because it was simply better that way. I didn’t have the luxury to get angry, it was an emotion that was better smothered for me because angry people often lost control, and control was all I had. I was pretty good at managing my emotions, years of therapy and deep conversations with my mom helped with that.

But there was one person in my life that somehow made my calm persona waver.

Just the way he held himself, so cocky and arrogant. The way he spoke to me like he knew something I didn’t, the way he smiled and called me this ridiculous nickname made me want to smother him.

“Hey Mrs D. Sorry I’m late!” The bane of my existence sent her a charming smile before hightailing it to his seat at the back of the class.

Mrs Diaz didn’t even look mad, she was used to his tardiness by now.

“Late?” She made a show of looking at her watch, “I mean compared to your usual, I’d say you’re pretty early, Aiden.” She sent him a pointed look but the corner of her lips was turning up.

He grinned and leaned back on his seat.

“What can I say, you’re the only good teacher in this damn school.” He shrugged unapologetically and I rolled my eyes. I could’ve sworn Mrs Diaz just blushed as she shook her head at him.

See what I meant?

He was just so full of himself, so confident in his ability to charm just about anyone and I found it tremendously annoying. Not only that, but I hated the way even my breath caught in my throat whenever he was in my vicinity. I hated that his eyes seemed to lock on me whenever it was the case and I hated his freaking face for making me lose sight of the fact that he represented everything I grew up to hate: bullies.

Because that was the main problem with Aiden Walker. That was the main reason why my conflicting feelings for him bothered me.

He liked to pick on guys of slighter frames and different hobbies than him. I’d always hated bullies, they’d tormented me when I was younger and I refused to turn a blind eye on them like a lot of students and teachers did here.

On top of that, Aiden was my complete opposite. He was violent, cursed like a sailor and was just overall really frustrating to be around.

And as much as I tried avoiding that, I found myself around him a lot. We had classes in common— English was the only honors class he was in, but we also found each other together in algebra and art class. We had homeroom, lunch and even PE together too. So as much as I wanted to avoid him, I couldn’t.

That only added to my frustrations. I hated that he could make me feel so unlike myself, like my carefully crafted good girl persona just cracked whenever he came near me.

“Caillate, flattery will get you nowhere with me, Mr Walker.” Mrs Diaz sent him an unimpressed smile before turning back to the board to write.

He simply chuckled, getting his notebook out of his backpack before turning his head in my direction. When our eyes met, my heart seized in my chest. I hated to admit it, but Aiden was as gorgeous as he was annoying.

Jet black hair, bright green eyes and a skin so clear it was honestly unfair. Especially given the fact he probably only used ten-in-one body wash to make it that way. I was pretty tall, but he was taller. Even if I wore heels, he’d still hover a good five inches over me. He wasn’t on the football team but Jelena often commented on how he could have been given his stature. He had wide shoulders and big arms, if you saw him on the street you probably would never guess he was a senior in high school.

When he caught me looking at him, he had the audacity to smirk, leaning back and letting his gaze slowly peruse my body. I felt my skin prickle under his stare and my cheeks felt really warm suddenly.

I told myself I was going to look away but I found it nearly impossible. He looked smug, but at the same time, there was an intense glimmer in his eyes that made it hard to look away. When finally Mrs Diaz started on today’s lesson, I turned my attention back to her and tried to forget all about the guy with the piercing green eyes.