Not today.
It’s not like I want to see him right now. I’m seething and boiling like a fucking kettle.
On the outside, it appears as if I’m practicing, my expression cool and focused. Truth is, I’m blowing off steam so I don’t combust.
Practicing is the only way I can do that. When I jump in the air, it’s like I embrace complete freedom, the type I’m not allowed on the ground.
People think I don’t feel. I wish I didn’t. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have the urge to jam my foot into a wall then break down in tears.
God, I feel so much like crying.
But I seal that urge in, hardening it with ice.
Mom said crying is for weaklings.
I’m strong, just like my mom, just like Reina, who I hope is also holding on.
After all, she seems to have inherited my mom’s genes more than I did. She’s the one who ran straight into danger, and I’m the one who left her behind and ran the opposite way.
“Rei.” Ari’s brittle voice pulls me back from my mind.
Plastering on a smile, I wipe the side of my face and turn toward her. She’s wearing one of her long skirts and a blue top.
Her jet black hair, the same color as Asher’s, falls on either side of her face in a short cut. Unlike me, she has no makeup on and is watching me with a kind, worried expression.
I tap the chaise lounge beside me, and she trips over her own feet to join me.
She’s warm that way, Ari. Sometimes, it seems too warm to be true.
Ever since I’ve gotten to know her, I’ve seen a similarity to my relationship with Reina. No one can replace Reina in my heart, but Ari comes close. I’ve loved her and taken care of her as a sister since we met six years ago.
“I’m so sorry about Asher. He can be so dumb sometimes.” She digs her teeth into her lower lip and clinks her thumbnails against each other.
Despite how close we’ve gotten, Ari has never actually lost her anxiety. Asher told me she developed it after their mother died. Ari saw it as some sort of abandonment and reacted hard to it. Her brother and I silently agreed to protect her from the harsh world surrounding her.
Well, as much agreeing as we can do. Asher and I are just…wrong. I don’t know if there’ll be a day when we’ll be right.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’m used to it.”
“Well, I’m not.” She lowers her head. “I’m sorry he doesn’t love you.”
Her words are like knives shooting straight to my heart. Deep down, I knew it, but to hear it out loud hurts more than I’d like to admit.
It’s like bleeding out—silent, but deadly.
Just when did we reach this phase? When did Asher and I stop holding hands and sneaking out to meet each other?
I know when.
When he first kissed me at fourteen. A real kiss, a kiss with sloppy lips and clinking teeth and wandering tongues.
I realized I couldn’t possibly live without this boy anymore, and it scared the fuck out of me because Asher isn’t mine. He’s Reina’s. I was only supposed to be friends with him, not decide I want to keep him for my selfish, backstabbing self.
Then Dad and Alex announced the engagement and I made the decision to stay the fuck away, bury my feelings, and pretend I had none.
That was the only way to keep away from someone who didn’t belong to me.
“I don’t think he has that in him.” Ari’s bright blue-green eyes meet mine. “He’s like my dad. I don’t think he ever loved my mom.”