Her face has this symmetrical quality to it. Her eyes are huge and a clear blue, and when you’re close enough, you can see the grey flecks in them. Like a symphony of colours. The small freckles on her nose have been slowly disappearing over the years and she’s been hiding the traces with makeup. Her lips are full and have a perfect teardrop at the top that I haven’t been able to stop staring at since the day I sucked on it about a year ago.
No. It’s not only her lips that I haven’t been able to stop staring at.
It’s her.
All of her.
And it’s not only because of that kiss or the almost-kiss before that.
It all started that night. It started with chaos and refused to end.
I still don’t like Silver Queens. And not because she acts like a bitch to everyone at school, but because she’s not actually a bitch. She’ll go out of her way to snitch to the principal on anyone who bullies Kimberly, but she won’t talk to her. She’ll even hurt her if she feels her ex-best friend, Kim, might get close to her.
She shuts Summer and Veronica up when they make the other students do shit for them while she sits at parties like she’s a queen, accepting the peasants’ offers at her feet.
The sorry fucks line up to ask her to dance, only for her to tell them she’s not feeling like dancing, but they can sit with her.
She’s plastic. She’s becoming more and more a replica of her mother, and the worst thing is, I don’t think she even realises it.
When her eyes meet mine, she pauses for a fraction of a second before she harrumphs and directs her attention at the others.
Since that day in our guest room, Silver has made it her mission to avoid me and never stay alone with me. Whenever we meet at my house by accident — because I make her think I won’t come back at that time and then show up anyway — she pretends I don’t exist.
Like now.
It’s a game we play. Pretending the other doesn’t exist.
I still pull on her hair every chance I get. She’s lost that awed, surprised look over time, but it’s one of the rarest moments where she’ll stare up at me with wide eyes. They usually morph into glares way too soon, but that brief second is worth it.
Silver still tries to compete with me every chance she gets. She loses most of the time. In the beginning, I used to forfeit to see her eyes widening in a different type of way — with happiness — but lately, she’s been pissing me off with all the fuckboys she sits with at parties, so I make sure to see her lose.
I make sure she falls at my feet.
She stands up every time, though, and swings back even more determined. It’s one of her most admirable qualities. It’s like she can climb a mountain, then destroy it if she puts her mind to it.
I’m that mountain in her life right now. The one she’ll never be able to reach the top of. I won’t let her. I’ll keep her hanging on to me because I need the chaos she brings to the solid exterior. The way she digs her nails in and disrupts the boring cycle.
If I give in to her, if I allow her to have her way, everything will snap back to normal, and I don’t like normal.
“I brought snacks Helen and I made.” She carries the bags to the kitchen area.
“Are there any crisps?” Ronan helps her and she nods.
Xander follows, rubbing his hands. “I get half the crisps.”
“No!” Ronan brings out an imaginary sword. “Fight me for it, peasant.”
Xander brings out his own imaginary sword and they start jumping like monkeys around Silver.
“You mean, Mum made them and you just watched,” I say, feigning to read from my book. I can’t concentrate on words when she’s around. I always have this overflow of energy that starts in my chest and ends in my dick.
“Funny because you weren’t there,” she shoots back.
“I don’t have to be there to know you suck at cooking, Silver.” I don’t use her nickname when anyone else is around. If I do, they’ll pick up on my abnormal attachment to her.
That means weakness.
And I already made a promise to myself that there would never be another moment where I’m weak.