NOVA
He locked me inside his room.
Hours ago.
The sun was coming up and he had yet to come back. I paced. I yelled. No one came to help.
I returned to his closet, thinking it might hold something that could remove a door from its hinges or break through it altogether. My big toe caught the corner of something wooden and I hissed, hopping on one foot. When I could wiggle it again, I crouched down and shoved a pile of pressed T-shirts to the side, revealing an oak box with an infinity symbol carved into the top.
It looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I lifted
the lid and stared down at my new findings. There were stacks of cash, fresh and banded together. That wasn’t too alarming. The gun gave me a little more concern. I lifted it and checked the clip, counting three bullets.
I’d keep it.
You’d think it’d have been the passports that disturbed me the most. There were six in total. All were of Rhett—or versions of him. Each had a different name, none matching the next. From what I could see, my Rhett didn’t exist. He wasn’t even twenty-four.
I dropped the books as if they’d burned me, and that’s when I saw it wedged in a corner of the box. My hand was trembling, making me miss its silver chain a total of three times before I was successful. The bold red butterfly spun in a circle, its wings catching in the light.
Why did he have this?
None of the reasons my mind presented made any sense. Even if there was a feasible explanation, what did it matter? He had lied to me about everything. My father had kept this pendant in his wallet. He was going to fix the clasp for me.
The sound of the lock clicking had me rising swiftly to my feet, tears be damned. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew I needed to get away from him.
When he stepped into the room, I was struck again by the realization that I had no idea who this person was. He had a gun in his hand. I tightened my grip on mine, wondering if he could hear how loud my heart was thundering in my chest.
I could have painted us right then, frozen in this exactly as we were.
Rhett Sullivan.
Mysterious boy dripping in shades of red.
The color of blood and love. War and passion. Dangerous and cunning. When I looked at him, it’s all I saw.
And then myself.
Nova Markov.
Eccentric girl dripping in sunshine.
I was yellow. Full of melancholy.
Venomous.
Crazy.
Insane.
The only thing left to determine, what I couldn’t see, was what happened when you mixed those two colors together. I pointed the gun at him and lifted my necklace so that it dangled between us, asking the most important question first.
“Why do you have this?”
“You know, you shouldn’t aim a gun at someone unless you’re planning to use it?” He stepped into the room and nudged the door shut with his boot, never taking his eyes off me.
I tightened my grip on the gun’s handle to keep it steady, feeling my palm begin to sweat. My entire body was on fire, raging emotions stoking the flames within me higher and higher.
“Answer me!” I gave the necklace a shake. The butterfly pendant spun in the air, its red wings’ catching a beam of light.