Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Peach
Kids Say – Henry Morris
“ H oly shit,” I gasp as my phone rings loudly, jolting me out of a deep sleep.
Wait. Not a deep sleep. A fucking blackout.
I tap around me in the bed, feeling it vibrate against the mattress but incapable of getting my hands on it. I can’t see shit, only able to squint one eye open to stop the headache on the side of my head from spreading to the rest of my skull.
Finally wrapping my fingers around my phone, I answer my dad, putting it on speaker right away so I don’t have to press it to my aching head.
“H—” I cough, scratching my throat when I realize how dry it is. Too much alcohol.
And I can feel that disgusting taste at the back of my throat. Too much coke.
“Hey,” I try again. “How are y?—”
“ I’m leaving ,” he cuts me off. It’s Dad Menacci, as opposed to Dad Sanderson.
I like to call them by their last names. They tried to introduce one and two when I was little. Dad and Daddy. Dad and Papa. Daddy George and Daddy Georgio. But seriously, who dates someone who has the same name as them in a different language? That shit is confusing for a kid.
No, I make my own rules, and I quickly decided it would be Dad Menacci and Dad Sanderson. I tried the old one and the young one when I was a teen, but Dad Sanderson really didn’t like me pointing out the twenty-year difference. What really happens is, I call them both Dad. And if they’re in the same room, I add their last name when they both go Yes, Principessa? Or Yes, Penny Pickle?
“Dad,” I huff. “You know you’re not leaving.” Every Saturday morning is the same.
“ He did it again. Who in their right mind cheats on me? I’m younger than him. I’m hot. I was a movie star, for fuck’s sake. ”
In Italy. He was a movie star in Italy for a few years when he was young. Then he met my dad and moved to Stoneview, Maryland, to live the life of the truly rich and famous.
I unlock my phone, checking for messages from my friends as he keeps talking.
“ I should have left the first time it happened. I should have taken you back to Italy with me. You were just a kid, you know? It was barely a year after we got you. ”
Something stirs in my stomach, making me feel sick. I don’t like when he mentions getting me . There are too many questions they've always refused to answer, and that I gave up on asking. But the worst is the reminder that there was a time I thought no one would love me enough to bring me home with them. I'm one of those kids…the ones old enough to realize they're not wanted. Who watched the newborns get snatched up like everyone's favorite candies. The kind of kid who was told she was lucky to be adopted just before six years old, because more often than not, we just end up in the system. Couples want babies to start their families, not strays.
" Did you hear me? " he insists on the other end of the line.
“Dad, if you really want to leave him, leave. Don’t just say you’ll leave.” We have this conversation two to three times a month. Every time my dad cheats on him, really.
I scroll through messages from Ella and Alex in the group. Ella sent all the selfies we took at the party, and I can see the way I gradually worsened during the night. Alex liked all of them with a pink heart. She disappears from the pictures at some point, then there’s a message that her boyfriend Xi picked her up and she’s going to the home they share off campus. Now that we’re in senior year, she spends less and less time in the campus house Ella, her, and I share.
According to the texts I sent around two a.m., I ended up kissing that guy who was hitting on me at the beginning of the night. He really wasn't my type, way too clingy. But my choice of men has been limited. I'm hit on a lot, but every time I try to take it further, they ghost me like I threatened their grandma. I've been ghosted so many times, I'm a haunted house at this point. A horny haunted house.
“ It’s more complicated than that, Penelope. ” He sighs, like nobody gets him.
But I get him. He wants to leave the man who doesn’t give him attention anymore, just doesn’t want to leave his money. And Dad Sanderson has always been a rich man. That prenup was watertight.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” I mumble.
I catch a picture of me and my friend Elijah that Ella sent. I’m clearly drunk off my face. Elijah is kneeling next to me, and my belt is wrapped around his neck while I stand next to him, holding it like a leash.
I barely stop myself from laughing. My dad is still going on about Dad Sanderson cheating.
Clicking forward, I look for Elijah’s number. We’re always chatting, so our conversation is right below the girls’.
I add a message to the picture.
Peach: I’m glad you finally learned your place…
“… and you need to tell him that he’s destroying this family with his actions. He’s irresponsible. Selfish. He’s hurting both you and me. ”
I roll my eyes. Do you know what’s exhausting? Parenting your parents. And my dads are so bad at communicating that they will forever be unhappy. No matter what I do.
“Why don’t you tell him yourself? I’m not your couple’s therapist.”
“ About that. Did you know he hasn’t shown up to the last two sessions? ”
I smile to myself when I get a text back from Elijah.
Elijah: Any guy who gets to be on his knees beside you is a lucky dude. ;)
Excitement buzzes through me as I bite my lip. I like Elijah. He’s not scared of admitting things other men would be embarrassed about. Not scared of accepting parts of him that fit with mine. We’ve always been friends, but he had left to study in Europe for college, so I hadn’t seen him in ages, and I thought I wouldn’t see him again until graduation. A lot of kids from our town go away for a year. Money can buy us anything, and when you’re from Stoneview, you can easily afford to study anywhere you want. But Elijah said he was leaving for good.
I was surprised when he came back unannounced during the summer, but we quickly became inseparable again. He’s a year younger, now a junior at Silver Falls University. Sometimes, it feels like he and I were made for each other. He can take my craziness and doesn’t try to tame me, and I make him a little less boring every time we hang out. Taking that man out of his shell is a full-time job. He’s not like the other guys at SFU. He’s as rich as any of us, has the world in the palm of his hand, and the kind of privilege only the richest people in the world do. And yet…he’s a good person. A real good guy. I take pleasure in making him blush. Or getting him drunk and ending up in compromising positions. With my belt around his neck, for example.
Nothing’s ever happened between us, though. And there’s a reason for that.
Elijah Hunter is Wren’s younger brother. And Wren and I are a whole different topic. A whole different problem. If Elijah and I feel like meant to be, Wren and I feel like forbidden lovers who could never work yet can’t help desiring the danger of it. It’s as electrifying as it is impossible. Both men would be a terrible idea, and I don’t often make good decisions, but staying purely friends with both of them is the best one I ever made.
“… Penelope, are you even listening? ”
I jolt out of my daydreaming, looking down at my phone.
“Yes, Dad. But I’m not going to get involved in this. We have the same conversation every time.”
“ Please, come home for the weekend. I’ll send a driver now. Your dad is so much more loving when you’re around. ”
“He’s also so much more loving when he’s at a public event for work. I’m sure you two have one of those soon.”
“ Principessa, per favore, ” he begs in Italian.
Shaking my head, I huff. The emotional blackmail is real. “Dad, I left two days ago. It’s the first weekend back at college. Be a big boy and go talk to your husband.”
I don’t listen as he lists all the reasons he’ll feel so much better if I go home today. Instead, I open the SFU app. This is pretty much the only social app we use because only people from our college have access to it.
As I scroll down, I barely register all the similar pictures everyone is posting of our gorgeous campus. The signature red brick castle is all over my feed. Some people are inside the castle quad, posting selfies with their summer St Barts tans by the Athena statue in the west quad, saying how excited they are for their whatever year, and some by the Poseidon statue in the east quad… They’re ready to “work hard and party.” Most people in this college could party their way through the four years and still have Mommy and Daddy get them a very nice job somewhere.
I check my DMs, making sure I haven’t sent anything stupid while I was partying a little too hard yesterday. I’m about to leave the app, when the noise of something moving through the air rings out from my phone.
Hermes posted.
That fucker, whoever they are, has a kink for me and my friends. Whenever they post, we can all fear to be the target. Because Hermes loves the popular students. It wouldn’t be such a big problem if they just posted stupid shit. But they don’t. They tend to post secrets we truly don’t want revealed. And their motto is my worst nightmare.
Your secrets are safe with me. Until they aren’t.
I tap on their post and my mouth twists. It’s not about me. But it’s bad.
Welcome back to campus, everyone. Did you miss me over the summer? I’m starting the year nice and easy…just a quick update that the ugly Hunter brother is back at SFU.
Some say Elijah spent a couple years studying in France. I say, he was trying to hide while he was glowing up, and um…he’s done hiding, but where’s the glow up?
I’m still a Wren fan, if you ask me. But I’ll let you vote in the comments.
Welcome back, Elijah. We didn’t miss you, because we were too busy drooling over Wren.
I’ll find out why you came back, ugly duckling.
Remember, your secrets are safe with me…
Until they aren’t.
#uglyduckling #Hunterbrothers #backtoschool
“Dad, I gotta go,” I say, not really bothering to follow what he’s saying anymore. “I’m not coming home this weekend, but I’ll be there for the Stoneview ball.”
It’s not like I have a choice. Dad Sanderson is running for mayor, and we have to play happy family.
Hanging up on him, I call Elijah right away.
“ I’m fine, Peach. It’s the same as before I left. I’m used to it. ”
I swallow the reassuring words I was about to throw at him. “Wanna go for brunch? It truly helps one’s reputation to hang out with me.”
He laughs. “ Sure. My reputation can only get better anyway. ”
“That’s the spirit. Let’s meet at the Acropolis. We can decide where to go exactly then.”
I hang up and hurry into the shower. The Acropolis isn’t far from here. It’s the part of campus where all the cafes, bars, and restaurants that are only accessible to SFU students are located. Our own little town only we can afford.
The residential area, where my friends and I have our houses, is far from classes, but it isn’t far from the fun. I just have to walk through Greek row, where all the sorority and fraternity houses are, and I’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes.
I’m walking the few steps down our porch when a black SUV parks in front of the neighbors’ house. That house belongs to Achilles and Wren, so I’m not surprised when they’re the ones who come out of the car.
I tilt my head to the side, noticing they’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday.
“Did you guys have a threesome with some girl who lives off campus?”
“What?” Achilles’s head rears back in surprise. His silver eyes blink rapidly at me. “How did you come to that conclusion?”
It’s not that he wouldn’t have a threesome or wouldn’t sleep with his best friend. Hell, I know he’s had a threesome with two other men before. But he hates when people assume anything about him.
“Same clothes as yesterday, meaning you haven’t been home yet.” I point at their clothes. Plain gray t-shirt and black jeans for Wren. Black t-shirt with a red skull spray painted on it, leather jacket, and black jeans for Achilles. “Wherever you were, you drove. Meaning you weren’t on campus.”
I smile mockingly at both of them, playing with a strand of my hair.
“Achilles is a hoe, so you were definitely with a girl. And since Wren hasn’t fucked anyone in about forever, I’m assuming he’d need someone to show him how to do it. So…” I clap my hands. “How right am I?”
“How right?” Achilles snorts condescendingly. “It’s a good thing you study how to save polar bears because the world would be a horrible place if you had chosen criminology.”
“Environmental Science and Engineering, Achilles.” I huff. “You’re my best friend and you don’t even know what I study.”
I say he’s my best friend, but in our little group, he’s probably the one I clash with the most. He’s always had this strange place as our leader, and most of the time, that’s a problem with me. Two strong, blunt, mean people are always a problem in a friendship. It doesn’t mean we don’t love each other, though. Same with Wren. Two dominant personalities doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.
But it does mean we’ll never cross that line. You know, the line I would never imagine crossing with Achilles because we’re truly nothing more than friends. Why can’t my body be numb when I see Wren? When I see Achilles’s pitch-black hair that falls below his ears, the way he runs his hand through it all the time and messes it up, all I want to do is scream at him to buy a fucking brush. When his steel eyes narrow on me the same way he does with anyone who dares address themselves to him, I don’t fall head over heels like all of the SFU female population. I don’t secretly hope to be the special girl he’ll finally settle with.
When I see Wren, though? His chestnut hair, short enough that a bit of gel styles it perfectly, his wide frame, strong arms, shoulders worthy to drool over… Fuck. It’s painful not to ask over and over again why don’t you have a girlfriend? Why don’t you sleep with girls? Is it truly for me?
His blue eyes catch mine. The kind of blue that’s a little too dark to be like the sky during the day, but too light to be the midnight sky. Perfectly in between. His eyes aren’t cold like Achilles’s. They’re welcoming, comforting. But I can’t help wondering if they’re that way to everyone.
How special am I to you, Wren Hunter?
I notice something where his jaw meets his ear. My curiosity gets the best of me, and I push onto my toes, swiping the red drop with my index finger.
“Is that blood?” I ask as I fall back, flat on my feet. I rub it against my thumb, but there’s so little that it almost disappears.
Wren’s thick eyebrows furrow, creating a line between them that I usually only see when he’s focusing on crushing someone else to make sure he stays on top.
He’s not a malicious person by any means. Achilles is a vicious man. Wren is nice, polite, not too wild but not too calm. Quiet enough to make people curious about him but assured in his person enough that he’s not a wallflower. He’s driven by success and power, but he doesn’t need to be loud about it. It’s just general knowledge, something everyone has always accepted since Stoneview Prep and all the way to his senior year at Silver Falls University. Wren Hunter dominates everything and everyone. Which is why I love to challenge him.
And that crease… It comes when he focuses at the gym. When he’s working on an engineering paper across from me at the library and wants to do better than me. When he’s talking about the next lacrosse game. When he’s annoyed, done with a conversation.
Or I guess when his friend finds blood on him that she shouldn’t have.
“You’re looking at me too closely, Peach,” he says calmly. The line disappears, and he smiles. “Not that I'm complaining. Maybe I cut myself shaving or something.”
“You haven’t shaved.” I can see it from the beautiful 5 o’clock shadow that appeared overnight.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” Achilles adds ominously.
I roll my eyes. “Shut up. I don’t care anyway.”
“Where are you off to?” Wren asks as I check my phone to make sure my other friend isn’t waiting for me.
“Brunch with Elijah. Bye, losers.”
I’ve barely taken a step in the right direction as Wren wraps his gigantic hand around my wrist, making it disappear within his hold. “Elijah?”
His voice always drops when he mentions his brother. They don’t get along. And that’s putting it nicely.
“Yeah. Cute guy, not very tall, looks nothing like you but shares the same blood. Ever heard of him?”
His upper lip curls in the slightest before he gets his reaction under control.
"Trouble, tell me you're not fucking my brother."
"Whoa," I scoff. "Calm down, will you? I'm going for brunch, not our wedding."
His face softens, but there's still worry in his eyes. "Peach…"
"I'm not," I say.
"Do you promise?" How can he go from stern to vulnerable so quickly?
I roll my eyes, trying to lighten the mood. "Sure."
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as I put my hand, palm up, in front of him. He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a marker. The fucker always carries them around just in case.
"I'll write it," he purrs with a self-satisfaction that should make me change my mind.
"The point is for the one promising to do it on themselves."
"Yeah, but any excuse to touch you." He chuckles.
He uncaps the pen, holds my wrist tightly, and presses the black tip to my forearm to write I promise . I’m worried he’ll notice the goosebumps while he looks at my skin so closely. I can’t control them, though. That’s the effect he has on me.
This little ritual has always been our way of keeping our promises and getting the truth out of each other. It came when we were in middle school. I got myself in trouble, and I asked him to promise not to tell any adult. I made him write it on himself so he would remember when he got to his house.
"Happy?" I flatly ask as he puts the marker back in his pocket.
“Yeah. Do you know what's funny? We were actually about to go for brunch too.”
“What? Go away, you’re not coming.”
“We’re starving after that threesome,” Achilles jumps in. “And we’re going exactly where you are. Let’s walk together.”
“I don’t even know where we’re eating, stupid.”
“Perfect, we can choose together.” Achilles wraps an arm around my shoulders, and Wren still doesn’t let go of my wrist as they start walking, dragging me with them.
“Wren,” I snap, annoyed. “Seriously, leave your brother alone.”
“I will once he leaves you alone.” He looks down at me, smiling a full set of white teeth.
“You’re not sitting at our table. Fucking bullies,” I grunt as I’m forced to keep walking at their insane pace.
He chuckles darkly. “We’ll see about that.”
Wren’s warm skin touching mine is way too electrifying for me to attempt to pull away anymore. But the idea of Elijah seeing us all arrive together feels wrong.
I don’t want to be the girl who gets between two brothers. The Hunter family is messy enough as is. And anyone who knows what’s good for them would stay away.