“Yeah.” She nods, squinting. “Look, I don’t care about you and Reyn. Actually, in a way, it makes total sense to me. Only the two of you know what it’s like to have gone through what you did.” She turns and heads the car up a long, twisting driveway. “And any idiot could see why you’re into him. He’s all sexy and cool and strong. A little mysterious. Very good at what he does.”
My cheeks heat. “Yeah, there’s all that.”
“I’m just telling you all that so you know,” she says, parking in front of a massive brick house, “you can talk to me, okay? I know I’m Emory’s girlfriend, but I can be your friend, too.” She cuts the car and looks at me, waiting for a response.
“Thanks,” I say, feeling awkward. Despite the fact I know she likes my brother and probably wants to get in good with him, the sentiment sounds sincere.
Later, when we’re in her room, I’m thinking that giving me this—a friend who doesn’t mind me being with Reyn—would probably accomplish the opposite of impressing my brother. She’s likely taking a risk here.
“Red would look stunning on you,” she’s saying, leading me into her closet. Although, to call this a closet would be like calling Lake Superior a pond. It’s furnished, for god’s sake. “But I’m thinking… red for a Preston girl is so pedestrian, right?”
I perch on one of the wingback chairs overlooking a massive shoe collection. “Uh, yeah. Pedestrian.”
If she hears the doubt in my voice, she ignores it, flipping through the dresses. “Black would be nice, but…” She gives me a look. “Too boring.”
I blurt, “I had sex with Reyn.”
She pauses, eyebrows rising. “Well, yeah, I figured.” There must be something on my face that signals this is more delicate than her usual ‘I had sex’ discussions, because she abandons the dresses, sitting in the chair beside me. “First time, huh?”
I nod, feeling stupid. “Like that’s a surprise.”
“Eh, people have gotten around nosier brothers.” She shrugs, and then haltingly asks, “Was it… okay?”
I know what she’s asking. “It was…” I fall back into the chair and try to find words to describe it. I’m still aching with the knowledge that, if we hadn’t gotten caught, we could have done it again last night. I can’t stop my blissful smile when I respond, “Better than okay.”
She meets my smile with a secret one of her own. “That good, huh?”
“You have no idea,” and ew, if she does, I seriously can’t hear about it involving my brother, so I hastily add, “it wasn’t like Emory thinks. He didn’t talk me into it, or like… manipulate me. We just…” I chew on my lip, trying to choose my words carefully. “We just happened. If anything, I think he was more surprised than I was.”
She watches me, forehead creasing in concern. “Vandy, your brother, he just feels betrayed. You understand that, right? The things he might be saying, or the way he might be treating you…” She shakes her head sadly. “I won’t excuse it, because I don’t know how bad it is. But I think—no, I know—that he doesn’t mean it. He’s just scared. Dating a guy like Reyn? There’s a lot of ways for it to go wrong. He’s cute and nice, and I like him. But the boy has ‘work in progress’ written all over him.”
“Yeah, well it’s not like I’m without my own baggage here.” I roll my eyes, fingers reaching up to fidget with the charm around my neck. “We make each other better, though. Emory doesn’t get it.”
“Talk to him,” she says, eyes imploring. “Like, make him talk to you. He’s stubborn but he’ll listen.”
I throw my hands in the air, feeling the floodgate opening. “I tried! He just has the most infuriating god complex. He wants to control me, Aubrey. They all want to control me. And like, how is it fair that he gets two girlfriends and no one blinks an eye? I’m not asking for two boyfriends. I’m not a greedy jerk like him, I’ll be happy with just the one, but—” I clamp my mouth closed, rueful eyes falling on her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
…bring up Campbell and the fact he’s still with her.
But Aubrey just snorts. “Girl, please. I’ll have that boy locked down and exclusive before she comes back for Thanksgiving break. Give me some credit.” She leans close, lips quirked. “Between you and me, here’s a little secret about your brother. When it comes to you, he’s stubborn as hell. But otherwise? He’s like putty.”
I scoff. “Emory?”
She bobs her head. “Totally. So easy to manipulate. Why do you think Campbell liked him so much? Why do you think he was so quick to impress the old guard? Why do you think he’s so terrified that you might be, too?” She raises an eyebrow. “Putty.”
I give her a long, searching look, and I realize that she’s completely right. Emory has always conformed to the people around him. This thing he’s doing, leading the Devils? It’s the first thing like this he’s ever gone into without someone else’s influence. Seeing it in that light, I think I’m starting to get a part of why it’s so important to him. I narrow my eyes. “Should I be worried about you?”
“I really, really like your brother, Vandy.” Something in her eyes softens, and when she looks like that, it’s easy to believe. “I only use my powers for good, but I promise to always respect and comply with your use of the Protective Sister card. God knows it’s time the tables turned a bit.” She repeats, “You should try to talk to him again. Don’t argue or fight. Just talk. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Emory, it’s that you’re his weakness. Use that.”
I nod, but I doubt it will do much. The whole situation feels hopeless and immoveable—just as steel as I’d felt that morning.
34
Reyn
I’ve spent a lifetime on a tightrope, balancing over a cavernous pit of shame, guilt, punishment, and fear. The rope sways but somehow, some way, I’ve always managed to stay vertical.
Pure defiance, mostly.