“You want to hear the truth, huh? You want to hear that I bought the flowers for you because I’m an idiot? Because I thought that maybe, just maybe, you were interested in me the way I was interested in you?” Chasm stalks toward me, and I swear, I can still smell the burn of gasoline, the stink of ash. But no, he’s clean and I’m clean; it’s all in my head.
I swallow hard, but I don’t know what to say to that. Part of me feels ashamed for not chasing after Chasm that day. The rest of me loves what happened between me and Parrish. I don’t know. It isn’t exactly the time for romance, is it?
“I should never have brought it up,” I whisper, and Chasm scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Besides, I told you: I have a crush.” He keeps watching me, this unspoken communication in his gaze that I finally, finally get. Oh. His crush, the crush he told me about at the lake is … She’s me. If Chas is an idiot, then so am I for not seeing it sooner. “Anyway, she’s smarter, prettier, and way less dorky than you.”
What he’s saying, it isn’t a lie. It’s a game, one with stakes that are much less dire than the one I’m engaged in with Justin and Parrish. But a game, nonetheless.
“I bet she can run a six-minute mile and spends her weekends working out.” I try to smile, but the expression falls flat. I committed arson today; I destroyed Danyella’s dreams. Tears threaten, but I push them back. I can’t cry right now; I have work to do.
“Damn straight,” Chasm replies, but he isn’t even trying to smile. He’s watching me so carefully, like he’s afraid that I might break. He needn’t worry; I’m made of stronger stuff than he might think. “Don’t cry, Little Sister,” he murmurs after a moment, taking a step toward me. He adds something in Korean, but I obviously don’t understand. I wish I did. Oh, how I wish.
I cover my hand with the robe’s sleeve and rub away even the possibility of tears.
“Shall we get started?” I ask, pulling the phone from my pocket and doing my best to change the subject. It’d be nice to have my laptop; that’d make things much easier. But there’s no way in hell that Tess is going to give it back to me now. This’ll have to do.
“Started …” Chasm trails off and then nods, moving into Parrish’s room to grab his bag. When he comes back, I see that he’s got his own laptop in hand. Thank god for small miracles. “Just tell me what you want me to do; I’m yours.” He pauses, and we both take a moment to process the unintended double entendre. “Put me to work.”
“How are your hacking skills?” I query with a raised brow. I’m not technology stupid or anything, but my forte is video games, not real-life detective work.
“Ahh, I’m alright,” he responds with a loose shrug of his shoulders. We settle down together with our backs against the headboard, bare legs precariously close to touching. I decide to give Chas the phone to view the recorded video before I delete it.
I wish I could describe the expression on his face when he sees Parrish for the first time. As much as I care about Parrish, Chasm cares just as much, if not more.
“Do you mind if I play with this a while before you delete it?” he asks, and I nod.
We end up sitting like that for the rest of the night, until both of our alarms go off for school, but it only took me a couple of hours to see that ‘I’m alright’ in Chasm’s language clearly means ‘I’m damn good at what I do’.
It makes me wonder if he really does know the girls in the computer science club … or if that was just cover for ‘I am the computer science club’.
We’re both bleary eyed and exhausted as we crawl out of bed to grab our uniforms, but I don’t miss the fact that one of the sunflowers has wilted briefly overnight. A single petal drifts to the floor as I watch, and chills creep up and down my spine. That’s not a good omen, not a good omen at all.
“School’s cancelled today,” Tess snaps as soon as we come downstairs. She’s in the kitchen with the rest of the family, nursing a flat white and looking like she got as much sleep last night as Chasm and I did. Once again, Maxx is there, sitting at the table and working on a plate of eggs.
The way he watches me when I move into the room scares the crap out of me. He hasn’t forgotten about our conversation yesterday; he’s just been busy. Yeah, well, so have I. I was busy setting fire to my best friend’s dreams and trying to figure out where my stepbrother/boyfriend has disappeared to.
