Remington: It means you should’ve fucked the other girl. The one whose face you saw, because your dick wants her and we always let our dicks decide who they fancy. That’s like the easiest and most logical explanation ever. Come on, spawn, my lordship taught you as much.
Creighton: I’m not even attracted to the other girl. She’s not my type.
Remington: Types are overrated. They can change.
My jaw clenches and I refuse to take Remi’s words as fact. After all, I’m the only one who considers him wise. Everyone else just seeks him out for fun times, not advice.
He’s probably the most balanced out of us all, but then again, he’s the only one in the house whose last name isn’t King.
Remington: And rude, btw, you left me on Read last night.
I exit the chat, leaving him on Read again.
But before I close the app, I go to someone else I’ve been leaving on Read for the last couple of weeks.
Annika.
My finger hovers over her endless texts. Some are telling me about her favorite music—classical. Her favorite film—Pride and Prejudice, all versions. Her favorite food—pizza—that she doesn’t get to eat a lot because of her disciplined routine. Some are selfies of her.
Those stopped after I ignored the first few.
Her last text was prior to the deliberate loss of control on my part.
Deliberate because I meant to push her away. So far away that she’d stop looking at me with those glittery eyes and parted lips.
It was my last bit of courtesy for someone who gave me food and didn’t hand me over to her brother on a silver platter.
That incident happened a week ago.
She’s kept her distance since—even during lunch. Before, she glued herself to my side and chattered happily until I got up and left.
Now, her chosen victims are either Remi or Bran. On and on, she talks to them about the last book she read or film she watched.
They listen to her, engage, and even reply.
Unlike me.
Ava even asked her if she’s finally given up on me. She laughed and subtly changed the subject.
She did give up.
Finally.
If I’d known it would be that easy, I would’ve shown her a hint of who I truly am a long time ago. That way, I wouldn’t have had to put up with her disturbing cheerfulness.
I click on the last selfie she sent two weeks ago. Her hair falls on either side of her face and she has both hands under her chin. She’s too young, oozing with an irritating type of happiness that grates on my nerves.
Yes, I’m young, too, but only in age. I’ve never felt young since the massacre.
A notification of a text shows up at the top of my phone. Did I somehow send a reaction or something?
That’s when I realize I’ve been staring at her selfie for about five minutes.
A long fucking time.
I scroll to the text she sent just now.
Annika: So I’ve been thinking.
Creighton: I’m surprised you do that before talking.
The dots indicating she’s typing appear and disappear.
Screaming emoji
Dead sticker
It’s happening GIF
Annika: OMT! Did you actually reply? Say the secret words or I’m reporting you for kidnapping Creighton.
What the fuck is she on about now?
Annika: I’m serious. I’ll report you right now. I swear to Tchaikovsky. That’s what OMT means if you were wondering. Oh my Tchaikovsky.
Creighton: You talk too much.
Annika: It’s really you. Hi! Also, thanks for replying after a thousand years. Really appreciated.
Creighton: If I’d known this was what I was in for, I wouldn’t have.
Annika: Wait, don’t ghost me yet. You’re seriously cold, did you know that? I wonder if you even have a heart beneath all that ice.
I don’t reply.
Annika: Here we go again. You’re leaving me on Read. But anyway, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day and I’m curious about the ‘deviant tastes’ part. I tried searching and asking around your childhood friends, but I think either you keep that part of yourself under wraps or it’s not true? At any rate, I want to know more. Can you tell me?
My hand flexes on the phone and I type with stiff fingers.
Creighton: This is my one and only warning, Annika. You have no clue what you’re asking for. Be grateful that I have no interest in you and run the fuck away. If you let me catch you, I’ll swallow you alive.
She reads my text immediately, but no dots appear.
Good.
“There you are.”
I turn off my screen and slide my phone into my pocket as Landon sits beside me.