Chapter 41
IVY
My father avoids me now. Even Anthony seems to be MIA more than not. But it’s kind of peaceful. There’s no one’s questions to answer or motives to ponder. I can just exist.
Even Brooke has dodged me for most of the day, but that changes at lunchtime when she drops in the chair beside me.
“I know you’re mad at me.” She appears like she’s about to cry and sounds like it too.
I finish chewing the apple slice. “Mad about what?”
She shields her face with her hands then drops onto the table surface. “About the pictures. I told Micah it was too much, but he’ll do anything to win.” She glances over her shoulder. “He is really recklessly determined.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” I can see the same trait in his brother. Both seem more desperate to beat each other rather than actually winning.
“I can’t wait until this weekend.” Brooke’s peppiness resumes even as Micah drops next to her while she completely ignores him and asks me, “Are you going? Please don’t tell me you’re skipping, because we worked really hard on it.”
I immediately notice Luca missing from his usual pack as Cain and Remy also take a seat.
It takes me a second to breakaway my glare from Micah.
I still can’t believe it was him. And it makes me feel weird that he’s seen the photographs and is sitting nearby with his normal charismatic demeanor intact.
Eventually, I ask Brooke, “What’s this weekend? ”
“Like one of the most important events of our senior year—homecoming.”
“That’s right. Defend the title. Defend the turf,” Remy hoots as he fist bumps Cain.
Brooke scrunches her nose like they reek. “Yeah. No. The game is secondary to the dance.”
“What? There would be no dance if it weren’t for us bleeding on the gridiron.”
Her eyes roll as she says, “Anyway, we’ve spent forever and a day planning the dance. You have to be there.”
Remy adds, “Yes, Ivy. We need you shaking that ass on the dance floor but more importantly, cheering us on at the game.”
Brooke gets too excited as she babbles, “Totally would make the night better. There’s still room on the squad if you want. Callie is sitting out the next few weeks with a sprained ankle.”
“Oh, yeah.” Remy gives me an up-nod before he winks at me. “Ivy in a tiny cheer skirt yelling my name would really get me going.”
“Never gonna happen.” The cheering or encouraging his antics in general.
Brooke stays locked on me. “Please at least come to the dance. I’m sure Luca won’t be there. He never shows for stuff like that.”
Micah speaks with the usual Montclair self-assurance, “He will if she does.”
Brooke holds up her hand, putting it in front of Micah’s face. “No one is talking to you.”
He threads his fingers in hers as he teases, “You just did.”
Turning to me, Brooke says, “I’ll call you later. I can’t with the overload of stupidity spewing all over.”
Micah watches her leave as I observe him. I get it. Mercy is the ultimate trophy in their world that they are desperate to win. But to dig up actual photographs of the collision is another level of crazy. “How could you use that of all things against me? It was such a cheap shot.”
There’s an odd air that passes between Micah and Cain before Cain states, “We’d better drop it. The two of them already tried to murder each other.”
“The worst moment of my life was used against me in a game. Therefore, I consider it only fair that I get to ask whatever the fuck I want regardless of who is trying to murder whom.”
“Maybe you should ask a different question,” Micah counters and I know he’s still toying with me. Though there’s something about his cunning stare that makes me believe he has information that will cut deeper.
Cain states, “If you keep being a dick, I’m not going to pull him off your ass next time.”
Remy nudges Micah. “I got ya, bro.”
I take the bait and brace for his response. “What should I be asking?”
“You should ask who I got the pictures from.”
The nice twin has really risen up on the I-want-to-deck-him meter. “Fine. Who did you get the pictures from?”
He stands as Cain instructs him, “Seriously, cut the shit.”
But Micah is unfazed. He leans over, moving eye-to-eye with me. “I said you should ask. That doesn’t mean you’ll get an answer. At least not yet.” Then he saunters away.
I can see it now. The likeness of his nature to his brother’s is uncanny. They’re both thoroughly vile. There is no such thing as a nice twin with these two.
“Ivy,” Cain interrupts my thoughts as I break away from asshat number two. “He’s screwing with you.”
“I know.” Obviously. It’s what the duo is great at apparently. “But he got the pictures from someone who was there that night, right? Maybe they have more. Or they can give me more information about who caused the crash. The witness said it was a pickup truck.”
Remy shovels fries into his mouth. “Have you seen the police report?”
“No. Everett told me about it.”
“Pussy boy from the party?” Remy snorts. “I’d ask to see it for yourself. Sounds like you could be missing some details to me. Brooke’s dad is a cop. You should ask him.”
That’s new info. And it makes more sense why she didn’t want to report anything.
And I can’t really say anything. My dad hit me, and I went on like nothing happened.
Reporting him or fighting seemed useless.
It didn’t hurt much. The pain was minor.
The realization that the person who should protect me is the one I needed protection from was defeating.
It wasn’t surprising. I’ve never been able to count on him. Why would anything be different now?