Chapter 33
Riiing—riiinggg.
The bell had rung, and students who had been chatting with their friends outside of the classroom quickly said their farewells and entered the classroom.
Benji was one of them. He strutted into the classroom as if he were the only person in the world. As he walked past me, he gave a quick glance with no indication of how he felt towards me. A brush of wind moved my hair from how swiftly he walked.
I exhaled as he walked further away from me, glad that he didn’t decide to sit close to me. I turned around to see where he actually sat; it was in the same corner as Violet. He didn’t seem to pay attention to her at all, though. He just sat there, scholarly.
Ayden, on the other hand, was unlike himself that morning—he hadn’t said a word, and his hair was messy.
His hair was never messy.
The clacking of boots echoed the classroom as Miss Kennedy stood up from her chair and walked in front of the desk, leaning up against it.
She folded her arms comfortably, giving us all a gentle stare.
“I hope y’all didn’t forget about the essay.
I’m givin’ y’all thirty minutes today and tomorrow to work on ‘em, and y’all can work on the rest o’ it at home. It’s due on Thursday.”
I had forgotten. By the look on everyone’s faces, they had too. Everyone took out their school-provided laptop and began writing. I stared at the blank document in front of me, realizing that I had to lie about my experience in Paris.
But it wouldn’t be too difficult. Not anymore. I learned to lie. I learned that I had to. Otherwise… would my best friends stay, knowing what I had done? Would I have any chance of making Hero and Ayden friends again?
I can’t fail. I’d already failed as a daughter. So, I can’t fail at this.
I can’t.
* * *
I finished my essay that day. I didn’t finish it in class, of course—I doubt anyone could finish a four-page essay in thirty minutes.
I spent all evening working on the essay, re-reading it over and over around fifty times just to make sure I didn’t accidentally put something I shouldn’t have, or to see if my lie was believable enough.
The essay occupied my mind, not allowing me to sleep unless I had finished it.
Just as I was writing the last sentence, footsteps were heard. A few seconds later, a knock sounded at the bedroom door.
“Can I come in?” the voice asked.
Hero.
“Yeah,” I called, glancing up from the laptop screen.
The door slowly opened, and Hero stepped in. I could barely see him—only his shadow was visible from the laptop’s light. The sun had already set, and I hadn’t turned on the light.
He flicked on the light switch, causing the lamp on the end table to glow. “What are you doing?” he asked, giving me a confused stare.
“Essay.” I yawned.
“In the dark?” he asked, walking closer to me.
“The dark helps me think better.”
“It’s not due ‘till Thursday, you do know that, right?”
I nodded. “I know.”
He sat down next to me, keeping his legs over the cover. “Can I see?”
Without thinking, I shut the laptop screen. There was no need to—there was no sign of what horrible act I had done—but I didn’t want Hero to read my lies.
“Sorry— I… my writing is trash,” I stammered, tightly gripping the sides of the laptop.
“C’mon, that’s not true.” He tilted his head, staring at me. “Do you remember when you used to write poetry all of the time? Those poems were on Shakespeare’s level.”
“Well, time has changed,” I replied, lifting my head up. “Plus, I’ve always been terrible at writing essays.”
Lies. Lies. Lies. I always almost get perfect scores on my essays.
“Well, okay, I’ve never read one of your essays…” he drifted off, “…but people tend to doubt themselves even when they’re great at something.”
I slid down the header of the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Ro, why’d you come to my room?”
But before Hero could respond, a notification popped up on my phone. It was a text from Ayden. “Need help NOW. @ Blake’s.”
I sat straight up.
“What is it?” Hero asked, concerned.
I scooted off the bed, putting a jacket on. “Ayd’s at Blake’s house, and he needs help.”
Hero’s eyes widened, getting off the bed. “He went at this time of night?”
“I don’t know what Blake might’ve done to him— we have to get there fast,” I said urgently. “Do you know where Marina keeps her car keys?”
“Are you seriously suggesting we steal my mom’s car?” he whispered loudly. “We don’t even have our license yet.”
“When has the law ever stopped you?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Please.”
He hesitated, then sighed. “Kitchen counter.”
The two of us quietly rushed downstairs. I grabbed the keys from the kitchen counter before heading out the front door. Marina probably heard the car ignition turn on, but we didn’t stay long enough to find out.
“Slow down,” Hero said, when he noticed that I was speeding. “We’ll never get there if the police pull you over.”
I sighed, slowing down to the speed limit.
* * *
Arriving at the house, I noticed that there was another car parked in front of the house, next to the driveway.
It was a red Lamborghini. It wasn’t one of the cars that Ayden’s parents owned.
I looked over to Hero, hoping he would recognize it, but he just shrugged.
I parked behind the car, and got out of Marina’s car.
Gesturing Hero over, he rushed over from the passenger seat, the two of us running to the front door. I pounded loudly on the door. “OPEN UP, BLAKE!”
In a few moments, the door swung open. But the person on the other side of the door wasn’t Blake. It was Ayden. His hair was the messiest it had ever been—it was covering his eyes—and his lip was bruised. He was breathing heavily.
“What happened?” I gasped. “Where’s Blake? And whose car is out front?”
Ayden pulled me inside without saying a word, and Hero followed. None of the lights in the house were turned on. Ayden then shut the door, leaving us in the darkness.
“You’re scaring me,” I breathed. “What’s going on?”
Ayden couldn’t look us in the eyes. “I messed up.”
“WHAT?” I shouted. “Where is he?!” I started frantically searching the house.
“In his bedroom—” he said, and Hero and I rushed to his bedroom before he could finish his sentence. “—but first there’s something you need to know…” he trailed off.
The door to Blake’s room was closed, and light shined underneath the doorframe. The doorknob rattled as I turned it. Locked.
“Why is the door locked?!” I asked, rushing back to Ayden.
“I didn’t text you to help me with Blake.”
“What?” Hero asked, narrowing his eyes.
“I texted you to help me with my cousin.”
“Your cousin?” Hero asked, a puzzled look on his face. “Since when do you have a cousin?”
The only mention of his cousin I could remember was during Ayden’s house party, when he and Jerry were arguing. They brought him up, as if he were someone intimidating.
“What does your cousin have to do with Blake?” I asked.
“I think now’s a good time to tell you, Peps.” Ayden slowly looked up and stared into my eyes.
Is he talking about why he was acting so strange during the field trip? Does that mean whatever was happening was now ‘over’?
“What is this about?” Hero questioned.
Ayden started pacing back and forth. “I’ve been a damn puppet.
My cousin has been controlling almost everything I’ve done since the beginning of freshman year.
” He scoffed, clenching his fists. “I did everything he asked, yet he was never satisfied. So, he took it into his own hands and succeeded in mere days.”
“What do you mean he controlled you?” Hero scanned his face.
“Everything to make you mad—to make you jealous—was all his idea,” Ayden answered. “He convinced me you deserved it, and I let myself be manipulated.”
That’s why he became friends with the bullies, I realized.
“So, what?” Hero asked, lightly scoffing. “You’re saying we would’ve been friends if your cousin didn’t manipulate you?”
Ayden shook his head. “I’m sure we still would’ve argued and stuff, just like in eight grade, but I wouldn’t have provoked and fought you this much.” He paused, then muttered, “And I wouldn’t have dated Pepper.”
Hero’s eye twitched. “What— what did you say?”
“I knew you liked her. It was obvious to me.” Ayden turned to look at me. “I’m sorry, Peps. I even tried to have feelings for you, because maybe then I wouldn’t feel as guilty. All of those times I tried to kiss you, I was trying to feel something. Anything.” He paused. “But I couldn’t.”
Because he’s gay.
“It’s okay,” I assured. “It was never serious, anyway. You know I’ve always liked Hero more.”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I know.”
Hero pushed Ayden. “You let him push you around like this? You’re a coward!”
Ayden just stood there, taking it. “I know. I’m sorry, Ro.”
Another push. Harder. “How could you do this to me?! Again!”
Violet.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“Why does your cousin have it out for Hero?” I questioned.
“All because of that stupid book,” Ayden spat.
“My book?” Hero asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Benji. He’s my cousin.” Ayden moved his hair out his face and glared at me, seeming to know I gave Benji the book. What else did he know?
Oh, no, this is bad. Benji was manipulating me too?
“He’s going to use the book to take revenge on Hero.”
“But the text is written in Sivad. He wouldn’t be able to read it even if he got his hands on it,” Hero said skeptically. “And why would he want revenge on me? I don’t even know him.”
“It isn’t your ancestors’ book.” Ayden stared at Hero. “It’s mine.”
What the heck is happening?
“What?” Hero scoffed, staring blankly.
“Your ancestors’ stole it,” Ayden said flatly. “You know what ‘Sivad’ means, don’t you?”
Hero shook his head.
“It’s ‘Davis’ backwards. My last name. Benji’s last name.”
I had no idea that Benji had the same last name as Ayden. If only I had known, maybe I would’ve put two and two together sooner—figuring out that they were related. I wondered if Miss Kennedy knew the two were related.
It didn’t matter, though. I couldn’t have known Benji was manipulating Ayden. I couldn’t have known he was manipulating me. But it didn’t matter if he manipulated me. I still kissed him.
Hero’s eyes widened, his lips parting. “No… that can’t be.”
Ayden had a puzzled expression. “I thought you knew.”
“I didn’t.” Hero stared at the floor.
“Okay, I still don’t understand how this correlates to Blake,” I said.
“Peps,” he began, “Blake was controlling to you, just like Benji was to me. I understood how you felt. I wasn’t just going to give him my money. I wanted to teach him a lesson.”
“What did you do?”
“I wanted to use the book on him,” he admitted, “but the only way Benji would lend me the book is if he went with. So, I agreed, but…”
“But?”
“He tricked me,” he seethed. “He used a spell that made Blake fall unconscious. He said it was to help me, and told me to help him move Blake to the bedroom, but once I did, he locked me out and told me he was going to use him as a test subject.”
“Wait— but Pepper has the book,” Hero said, turning to me, “don’t you?”
I swallowed.
“Don’t you?” he repeated in a more urgent tone.
I shook my head.
“What?” Hero asked, taking a step back.
“I didn’t know he was bad!” I exclaimed. “He said he wanted to help!”
“You gave him the book willingly?!” Hero shouted.
“Benji used a spell that made Pepper strongly attracted to him whenever he was close by. It wasn’t her fault,” Ayden chimed in, then stared at me. “It wasn’t your fault.”
It wasn’t my fault. Knowing that he forced me to have those feelings—forced me to cheat—lifted a weight off my shoulders. It made so much sense now. How my feelings for him just suddenly appeared when he was near, making me unable to resist him.
He tricked me. It wasn’t my choice. I would have never done that to Hero on purpose.
“He did what?” Hero asked, turning to me. “Is that what you wouldn’t tell me in Paris? That you had feelings for him?” His voice was gentle.
I nodded, breaking down into tears. “I couldn’t live with what I had done— I… I didn’t mean to do it.”
“You did something with him?” he asked, afraid to hear my response.
“We kissed.”
Hero inhaled, his jaw tightening. “How many times?”
“Twice.”
His nostrils flared and his fists clenched, marching over to Blake’s room. Ayden and I quickly followed.
Hero violently pounded on the door, and rattled the doorknob so hard I thought it would fall off. “You want revenge on me, huh? Come out and fight me!”
“Not yet,” said Benji’s voice on the other side of the door. “It’s not your time.”
“I will kill you!” Hero snarled.
“Maybe not that, but we do have to stop Benji somehow,” Ayden urged.
As much as I liked the thought of Blake getting what he deserved, him being a test subject for Benji didn’t sit right with me.
Hero turned around and wiped away my tears. “I’m not mad at you, Pepper. He forced you, and he will pay.”
He wrapped his arms around me, and shortly after, Ayden did the same.
“I am so sorry for letting this happen to you, Peps.”
“Benji did this,” I said sternly, easing out of the group hug. “Not you. It’s not your fault, Ayden.”
Ayden sniffled, and Hero looked away with a clenched jaw.
“I have a spare key to the room,” I whispered, rushing to my bedroom. Opening the closet, I brought down a shoebox from the shelf. I took the key out of it and threw the shoebox on my bed—which didn’t have a fitted sheet on it anymore—and rushed back to Blake’s bedroom door.
Using the key, I unlocked the door, but the dresser was pressed up against the door, blocking me from opening it.
“Benji, let me in!” I shouted, pushing against the door. “That’s my brother, you prick!”
“Ayden told me the story,” Benji said calmly. “He’s no brother to you.”
I was the judge of that, not Benji.
“And you’re no cousin to Ayden!” I retorted.
Even with the help of Hero and Ayden, I couldn’t push through the door.
“The dresser isn’t the only thing blocking the door,” he said. “I put a spell on it. You can’t get in.”
Hero tugged on my jacket sleeves, gesturing for Ayden and me to follow him into the kitchen. He turned on the dim kitchen light and opened the fridge.
I expected the fridge to be empty like usual, but to my surprise, it was completely full. I had never seen it so stocked since my parents died. I stared at everything that was in the fridge—a variety of meats, vegetables, fruits, and sodas.
Ayden placed a hand on my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic look. I leaned my head against his hand.
“Good, he has what I need.” Hero grabbed a few things from the fridge and shut the door with his elbow. He placed the items down on the kitchen counter, inspecting them.
“For what?” I asked, getting closer.
“A reversing potion for a locked door.”