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Page 90 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)

He’s wearing a blue shirt that makes his eyes sparkle. His jet-black hair falls to his eyes. He throws a puff of air to set it back. He makes the stupidest face at my question.

“Yes, but checkers and chess are boring.” His fingers dig into the peel of the orange.

“Not if you know how to play right,” I retort.

The wood in the treehouse creaks when Max moves. “I know how to play. It’s just not fun. I’m too good.”

“Let’s see if it’s true.” I twist to get the board out and arrange it. Then I take out my strawberry lip gloss from my pocket. I smear it on. Ever since I asked Max to kiss me, he stares at my lips. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

I like Max.

He keeps my mind busy playing and listens to me when I talk about Mom and Dad. Max talks to me about his parents, too. He makes me feel better and lets me sleep in his bed when I’m scared. I’m always scared in this house. Jason is strange. Max and Drake protect me.

“What?” I ask, and he gives me an odd look, his brow climbing to his hairline.

His lips press into a thin line. “Your lips are shiny. It looks like you ate a greasy cheeseburger.”

I scoff. Boys are so dumb. “It’s called lip gloss. And your hair looks like a mop.” I regret the second I say that. Mrs. Sara hasn’t taken him for a haircut.

He tries to fix his hair, and his face goes sad.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him.

I shouldn’t be mean to my best friend slash future husband. The thought of a husband makes me want to throw up. Then we would have to kiss like Drake and his girlfriend. Max and I spy on them.

“I’m sorry. I upset you. The lip gloss is fine,” he says, but he moves to open the door to climb down the tree.

“I’m going to listen to music.” He gets teased at school when his hair gets too long.

They call him a shaggy dog. I shouldn’t have said that to him.

Mrs. Sara needs to take him for a cut. Or maybe I can cut it.

Once I’m done cleaning up the board pieces, I climb down. My heart races with anxiety when I see Jason raking leaves.

“Hey, Sol,” he says.

“Hi.” I wave, and my feet move faster.

“Come help with these leaves.”

I shake my head.

“Sol,” he yells.

Max runs out. “Come on, Sol. Let’s eat,” he says, reaching for me. He’s always been my golden knight. He knows Jason gives the ick vibe.

“You’re going to get it, boy!” Jason yells.

I know what that means. He hits him with a belt when Mrs. Sara isn’t home.

He had marks before I noticed once, on his back.

When I asked, he said one was from his dad.

Only one. But the rest were from Jason. That meant every time Max defended me, he would get hit.

Every time he would tell me to go to the room when Jason was drinking, he would get hit.

Then Drake would defend Max. Drake would get hit, too.

Tears fill my eyes while sitting on my bed holding my stuffy, Daisy, that Max gave me. I miss Mom and Dad. I’d do anything to be with them. Max saunters in, his feet shuffling.

“Are you o…okay?” Dumb question. He’s not.

His smile is faint. “Fine. Are you okay?”

“I miss them,” I whisper.

“Me too.” He lets me cry on his shoulder because I’m his best friend. And best friends stick together. Max never cries.

When we’re all alone, all we have is each other.

Beeping. I hear it again. The voices around me are distant.

“What’s happening?” a man shouts.

I can’t make it out, the voice is as if I were miles away. “She’s crying.” His voice sounds frantic.

“Yes, it can happen. It’s a reflexive or involuntary response,” another man responds.

“Something is making her react this way. It has nothing to do with reflexes,” he shouts.

“Mr. Cano, you need to relax. We are trying to calm her down.”

I’m trapped, and I can’t get out. I can’t wake up. I want to scream.

Max. Oh, Max.

A flood of memories of Max and me crashes over me, overwhelmingly.

I’m torn between gratitude and guilt, as I recall how many times he risked everything to save me.

Yet, the scars, like road maps, are etched into his toughened skin, a constant reminder of the price he paid.

Every time I kissed his scars, he never resented me.

I don’t deserve a man like Max. He says I saved him, but he saved me. He fucking saved me. A small boy who was barely hanging on saved me —my guardian angel.

I remember everything.

I’ll ensure he finds his happiness. Staying with me would only hinder him, yet I ache at the thought of losing him.

He deserves his own fairytale ending, and deep down, I know I can’t offer that when I’m still unsure of who I am.

I’m not quite Sol, nor am I fully Rainey.

I’ve lived two separate lives, and now I remember both vividly.

I’m a girl caught between, grieving the loss of two selves, unsure if I can ever truly let either go.

So, who am I to Max? Sol or Rainey, and what name would I go by?

The last memory hits like a deep puncture wound to the heart.

Jason’s hands clamp roughly around my head, and in one swift motion, he plunges me into the cold water.

Instantly, the frigid liquid envelops me, pressing against my skin like an icy vice.

My lungs scream for air as I fight against the suffocating embrace, while the world around me dissolves into a muted blur.

Sound becomes a distant memory, replaced by the dull roar of water filling my ears, drowning out all else.

I’m gasping for air. Sharp pain fills my heart, my lungs.

“Her heartbeat is slowing down. It’s barely keeping pace. Get the crash cart now!” a doctor shouts.

“What. No. Her heart was beating rapidly. Why is it slowing down?” Max asks.

There is a lot of noise. This dream is so vivid I can’t wake up.

I’m drowning.

“Baby, don’t leave me. You promised me forever,” Max roars, and the pain in his voice pierces my soul.

The darkness envelopes me with its shadows, and this time, it feels like it might be forever.

Everything goes silent.

Then I gasp.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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