Chapter 52
Henry: I’m happy about all the progress we made. You have a better hold of your anger management issues, and you’re learning to give her space. It’s healthy. I’m proud of you.
“He’s right.” I read the message to my new friend, who had no choice but to listen. “I’m becoming better, more patient, and all those things I despise.”
I hated that I couldn’t solely focus on Dalia, though.
“I had to prioritize my personal growth,” I said, my fingers forming air quotes. “Finding inner peace, whatever that means, before I could win her back. It’s all part of the plan. That’s why I’m building my cyber company, in case you’re curious—developing software and such.”
Being powerful never felt better. I’d fight the ugliness of the world, by being my most ugly self. How did I not think of that sooner?
Henry: PS Stop sending packages to my house. You made your point with the security alarm because it can always be useful, but the “PC for Dummies” book was over the top.
I snorted, slipping my phone back into my trousers. He was a mood killer, as always.
“Hmm!” The muffled sound of my new friend, sprawled on the ground with his face squashed under my shoe, interrupted my musings.
“Right, where were we?” I withdrew my foot from the Pioneer’s face—Rodrigue. “Being in love made me realize I finally had something to lose. So now I have to become my worst self to make sure she’ll always be okay. Love truly does make you grow.”
I was becoming a better man. I was kinder. Wiser. Before, I would have broken his jaw and destroyed his future, but now I was merely humiliating him. Mr. Henry was right.
“I don’t give a fuck that you’re in love,” he spat, coughing on the ground.
“Then perhaps you’ll care about me threatening to expose your little drug activity on campus, ruining your future and career prospects only a couple of months before your graduation,” I continued, offended that he wasn’t more interested in my monologue since for once, I was opening up. “But since you’ve been very cooperative, I’m offering you a chance to redeem yourself.”
Rodrigue massaged his cheek with the imprint of my Dr. Martens shoes. “Since when do you care about that?”
“I don’t, but I’m sure you remember Mich–Miguel—dammit, why is it so hard to remember his name.” I sighed. “You almost drove him to something very regrettable that touched on some of my personal issues. That’s why you’ll be serving him for the rest of the school year.” Leaning in closer, a sinister grin played on my lips. “Consider yourself his little doggy.”
“But I—”
I pulled a collar with a bell out of my pocket. “You should start wearing it.” I snapped my fingers. “Miguel!”
Miguel shuffled into the Pioneers’ house, his posture hunched. It was pathetic, really. Someone needed to slap some sense into him, make him straighten up and act like he had a backbone.
“Our friend Rodrigue over here will be your obedient servant,” I announced with a bright sneer. “If you need something, he’ll oblige. Isn’t that right, Rodrigue? Haven’t you got something to say to my friend over here?”
“Friend?” Rodrigue started to laugh, but the sound died in his throat—they always underestimated me, thinking I was joking when I wasn’t. “I’m sorry for how I treated you.”
“It’s okay,” Miguel mumbled. “I mean, it wasn’t okay, but…”
“Very well,” I interjected, clasping my hands together. “Rodrigue, behave, or I’ll have to put a leash around your neck.”
With a dismissive wave, I strode out, Miguel hastily matching my pace. I didn’t want to run into more Pioneers.
“Treating him like he treated me won’t solve this,” he muttered, now finding the courage to criticize the way I was handling things.
“I believe in payback.”
“I believe in redemption.”
“You and Sylas should be friends,” I deadpanned, blinded by the sunlight when I stepped outside.
I shielded my eyes with my hand and squinted, only to find Dalia standing before me, clad in black-and-pink leggings and a matching sweater, with her friend Yasmine by her side, also in sports attire.
“What are you doing here?” she fired at me before I had the chance to ask her the same thing. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“You’re the girlfriend. He’s always talking about you,” Miguel overshared. “Right, ex-girlfriend sorry, and Levi was helping me… kind of.”
“Or more likely overstaying his welcome. I gave you five minutes in the Pioneer headquarters, not ten.” Tara shoved my shoulder, ignoring me, as she marched toward Dalia and her sister. “Is that your outfit, really? Did you tie your shoes with ribbons? It’s sports, not fashion week, and you—” She gunned her eyes at her sister. “Don’t smile like that. It’s not going to be fun.”
“First time she doesn’t criticize me,” Yasmine whispered to Dalia before they exchanged a smile.
“Having a cute outfit is the best motivation to work out,” my little thief added. “I like your military look.”
Tara brought a hand to her forehead. “God, give me strength with this one.”
I was utterly lost—since when did they hang out together? “Did I miss something?”
“We signed up for a cross-country mission, forming a Unifier team, and Tara is coaching us since she won’t be a contestant.” Yasmine at least had the decency to explain.
Well, I wanted to run with Dalia. I could coach her anytime. I could chase her. Hell, I was even better than Tara and—
“Not that this is any of your concern.” Tara glared at me. “Just ignore him and let’s go.”
As I tried to speak, Tara’s commanding voice, reminiscent of a drill sergeant barking orders at new recruits, sliced through the air like a scalpel cutting flesh. I couldn’t decide what shocked me more: Tara embracing team spirit, her sister walking around with a bow on her back like Robin Hood, or Dalia’s apparent penchant for suffering, deriving pleasure from pain. She must have missed me.
“Just so you know, your mouth is hanging open,” Miguel taunted with mocking laughter. “It’s not like you’ll ever get her back.”
“Did you learn that from your suicidal group chat?” I shot back.
“You’re really hard not to hate, you know that?”
“And I don’t give one fuck,” I said. “You should have considered it twice before agreeing to work for me.”