Page 1 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)

MAX

Fourteen years old

I tug at my crimson silk tie, removing it to relieve the suffocating feeling.

Next, I loosen my khaki slacks in order to improve circulation and ease the pressure on my balls.

Walking into the rich prick school entrance, I survey an army of stuck-up kids walking like they have sticks up their asses.

“Good luck, turd,” Andrew, my new shithead foster brother, says as he slaps me on the back and walks off. He’s a senior at this private high school. This is probably one of the most luxurious schools I’ve ever attended, and it reeks of money.

I don’t belong here. I don’t come from money, and I don’t fit in. Andrew walks off to a crowd of guys, possibly football players, waiting for him to pound their fists. A fresh start: new school, new home, new family.

Same old shit.

“Who’s that?” the guy asks Andrew, pointing toward me.

“No one.” He smirks, walking off with his friends.

Yeah, well, I don’t give a rat’s ass about you either, I want to yell out. Instead, I walk down the long hall to search for my first period.

A locker door slams as I walk past it, and a girl jumps in front of me. “Hey,” she says breathlessly, a smile meeting her eyes.

I jump my eyebrows in response.

“Are you new here?”

I nod and try to walk around her, but she blocks me. She licks her lips, and that’s when I notice they’re like soft pillows. “I can help you find your classes.”

I shake my head at her, and she huffs, taking the schedule from my hand. Damn, she’s nosy.

“Oh, I see you’re a freshman also, and your name is Maximilian Cano. Oh, we have three classes together. Perfect.” She looks at the paper in her hand and then glances at me.

“Okay,” I reply, reaching for the paper.

“We have first period together. Come on.” She grabs my hand, but I push it away.

I don’t like to be touched.

She jumps back, startled.

“Rainey, you’re embarrassing yourself,” a girl says from behind her.

Rainey.

“Oh, shut it, Lana.” Her lips go into a straight line.

My gaze goes to her petite body. She’s in uniform with a navy-blue tight skirt, a white button top like mine, and a tie. She is pretty.

“My name is Rainey Collins. The big mouth behind me is my best friend, Lana. You can follow us to class. Umm, we’re all from the same school as last year, Highland Academy Middle School, which feeds into Highland Academy High.

That’s how I knew you were new here,” Rainey rambles.

She stares up at me with her pretty brown eyes.

I give her a curt nod.

Rainey nods back and spins on her heels.

She stretches her hand out for me to take.

She keeps walking with it out, and I follow, unsure of what to do.

My hand must have a mind of its own because I latch onto it.

It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.

It radiates with warmth like a hot cup of hot chocolate on a cold night.

My body tingles with a feeling I can’t pinpoint.

Rainey tilts her head back and smiles at me with the most genuine smile.

No one has smiled at me like that in a long time.

They’re always fake.

We stand in front of the class, my hand still in hers. “I think we’re going to be great friends, Max.” She winks.

My lips twitch. Fuck, she’s beautiful. I’m not sure if she comes from money. If she does, she doesn’t show it like the others are—walking with their nose in the air.

The past four weeks have been a tumultuous blend of heaven and hell.

Hell is enduring the suffocating confines of this dreary hellhole with my new foster family.

Heaven, on the other hand, is the precious time spent with Rainey, where the world feels vibrant and full of possibilities.

I’ve learned to keep my circle tight and exclusive.

Having no friends is a consequence of my transient lifestyle, hopping from place to place.

It’s safer to keep people at a distance, like figures in a hazy dream, avoiding the heartache that comes with attachment.

Somehow, Rainey has managed to crawl under my skin.

Although she does most of the talking and follows me at lunch to eat with me, I don’t let my walls completely down.

She knows nothing about me, and I’ll keep it that way.

She loves to read, and what I enjoy so much is that she reads to me.

The sound of her voice is a lullaby. Rainey stirred up memories I buried as a child.

My mom was the last one to read to me. She would dive into all kinds of stories.

Some made-up, fairy tales, the Bible, and children's books. I can still hear my mother’s soft voice as she tucked me into bed and narrated various tales.

It felt like home when Rainey read aloud, and maybe this is why I like having her in my presence, but I also loathe it because I know what it means. I’m never at a place long enough.

“Hey, shithead, time for dinner.” Andrew barges into my room while I lie in bed. His long, shaggy blond hair falls to the side.

At school, he acts as if he doesn’t know me. To be honest, I’m glad. I’m not the attention-seeker type of guy, and besides, who wants to be around a stuck-up ass?

He slams my door, and I get up to make my way downstairs into the dining area where they eat. This house is enormous. Maybe six-bedrooms. I’ve only wandered into the living room, dining room, and the vast kitchen. Of course, my room. I’m grateful I have my own space and don’t have to share.

“Damn. Watch it,” Andrew shouts, throwing himself on the floor and hugging his knee. Mrs. Peterson comes running toward us.

“Andrew, are you okay?” She kneels next to him.

Andrew scrunches his face as if he’s in great pain, rocking back and forth.

“He-he tripped me on purpose. I have a game tomorrow.”

My eyes widen. Again, I should be used to getting blamed and beaten for it. Mrs. Peterson’s mouth gapes. She stands and takes two steps closer to me. Her hand goes up, and I flinch, covering my face.

“Oh, honey, I wasn’t going to hit you. I was about to put my hand on your shoulder.”

“I didn’t trip him.”

“Then it must have been an accident.”

“Mom, seriously, he’s a liar. He’s a rift rat. I’m your son, and you believe him? How many homes has he been in? No one wants him. His own parents didn’t want him?—”

“Enough, Andrew,” his mother shouts.

The pain in my chest morphs ten times, shattering it.

She helps him up, trying to lift a statue of a guy who’s built like a quarterback. “Let’s be more careful, Max.” Mrs. Peterson groans.

Andrew smirks. I simply nod, taking the heat for something I didn’t do.

He fakes a limp and walks back into the dining room.

Andrew and his parents sit at the table with me.

I should be grateful that I’m in a pleasant home, with my own room and a warm dinner.

The housekeeper washes my clothes daily, and I smell like fresh, crisp linens.

Yet, I don’t belong here. Andrew is an ass, but I’ve been around worse.

Mr. and Mrs. Peterson are kind. I don’t understand why they foster kids. It’s not like they need the money.

“How is school going? Are you adjusting?” Mr. Peterson lifts a brow, waiting for a reply.

I would rather eat in silence than chit-chat.

“Good.” That’s the most he’ll get out of me. Adjusting is for someone staying permanently, and that’s not me—no need to adjust. Scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes, I savor the home-cooked meal, eating like it could be my last.

“I know it’s tough, Max. You’ll get there,” Mrs. Peterson says in a sweet voice.

They turn toward Andrew and ask him about football. He goes on and on talking about his games and snobby girlfriend who’s seeing someone else behind his back. Not paying them any attention, I eat my dinner, relishing this moment, thinking back to when I once sat at a table with my family.

Three months have passed. I go through the motions of school and then home.

Rainey continues to get closer to me, like now she’s sitting under a tree with me on our lunch break.

I’m surprised she hasn’t given up on me and gone back with her friend Lana.

What I like about Rainey is that she doesn’t ask a significant amount of questions.

She talks about her brother and sister. It seems like she has a loving family.

Our legs touch gently as she scoots closer. I’ve gotten used to how our legs rub on one another, and a buzz runs through my body.

“What do you think? Do you like it so far? It’s my mom’s book. It’s so taboo.” Her eyelashes flutter.

“Yeah, I do.” I shrug. “Not my type of book, though. I’m not into romance.” She just started reading a book called The Thorn Birds .

“You might fall in love with it as we continue reading. I won’t read it at home, only with you. That way, you don’t miss out. My mom said it’s heartbreaking. It’s not a romance.”

I roll my eyes at her, and she giggles. She’s beautiful. We gaze at one another, and her lips look soft, pink, and glossy.

“You have gorgeous green eyes,” she breathes.

No one has ever complimented me.

I swallow as she gets closer. I mean, she’s already close. I stiffen. Her cheeks burn red. She wants to kiss me. Part of me wants it, and the other part wants to run. I know better than to let anyone in. She makes me want things I shouldn’t, like tasting her.

“Kiss me.” Her hot breath seeps into my lips.

She wants me to kiss her first. So, I do.

My body has a mind of its own. Our lips press together, and I part my mouth.

Her tongue slides in. We move in sync, thrusting our tongues, both of us desperate.

She tastes pure and innocent, and her warmth vibrates with desire.

My body relaxes, and my hand moves to the back of her neck.

When she pulls back, panting, and her mouth opens in shock, I freak out.

Frantically, I hurry to stand, but she grabs my arm.

“It’s okay. I liked it. Did you?” Rainey grins. Her smile is one that never fades. “You’re my first kiss. Am I yours, Max?”

Did I like it? More than that, I loved the feel of her lips. Taking a deep breath, I nod. “Without a doubt, I liked it, and yeah, you are my first.”

She blushes. The bell rings, breaking us from the spell we’re under. “Tomorrow, I’ll read you another chapter. I’m scared this book will break my heart.” She takes my clammy hand in hers and guides us toward the double door.

That was the last time I kissed Rainey, and the last time I saw her. There was no goodbye. When I went home after school, my bags were packed. I knew I’d never see Rainey again, and I also knew I’d engrave her memory in my mind. She was the only person who made me feel warmth.