Page 42 of Muse (The Forbidden Hearts #1)

SOPHIE

I don’t leave my bed. I don’t speak. I hide, from my family, from the consequences of my actions, from the truth, the reality of what happened. We were caught. My whole life, everything Theo and I had, set aflame.

My sister knocks on my door at some point mid-day, but I don’t answer. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to face them, or have to hear my parents tell me once again how horrible I am. All I want is Theo. To hear his voice, feel his touch, know we are somehow going to be okay.

We aren’t though, and I know it, deep down inside. The look on his face, the light leaving his eyes as my father threatened him, threatened me… I know what that meant. He won’t risk me, for us. He will step back, step away, to try and save me.

But I don’t want any future that doesn’t have him in it.

I sleep, refuse to eat, and wallow in self-pity until Monday morning. I know I have to get up, have to go to school. Half of me wants to, so that I can see him. The other half, the rational half, knows it’s not going to go the way I want it to.

I force myself up when my mother yells up for the third time, promising to come drag me out of bed herself if I don’t get downstairs. She’s mercifully left me alone until now, letting me rot in my room. She probably doesn’t even know what to say. She’s broken me enough, done enough damage already.

I roll out of bed, head spinning at the sudden movement. I pull on sweats, the fabric comforting like a blanket, and throw my hair haphazardly into a bun. I don’t even look in the mirror, knowing it won’t be a pretty sight to see.

When I get downstairs, my keys are gone. My mother is standing by the front door, waiting.

“Let’s go,” she says, her voice sharp.

I blink, confusion clouding my thoughts. “Go where? Where are my keys?”

“You’ve lost the privilege to drive the car. I’ll be taking you.” She yanks the door open, her oversized purse clanging against it in her haste.

I follow her out, unable to form words. My car. She’s taking my car. I have no freedom left. I’m nineteen years old and being treated like a fucking child. I will never forgive her for this.

When I slide into the passenger seat, it takes every ounce of strength I have to not slam the car door shut. My frustration is palpable in the small space. If she can’t feel it, she’s totally oblivious.

She doesn’t speak as we drive, not so much as a goodbye when she drops me at the school doors. I jump out, anxious to get as far away from her as I can, and practically run to get inside and out of her line of sight.

The halls are bustling with Monday energy, each new week building excitement amongst the students as summer grows near. Summer, and graduation. A day I was so looking forward to, but seems so far away in this moment.

I stop just before Theo’s classroom door, taking one deep breath. Steeling my nerves. Then I round the corner and freeze in the entryway, my entire body going cold. Behind his bare desk is a woman I’ve never seen before. The whiteboard behind her head announces her as Ms. Jones, our new teacher.

He’s gone.

I can’t breathe. He left, he really left me. This is happening. My worst fear has come to life. My knees buckle beneath me, my head going fuzzy, and I almost collapse to the floor. Sal steps in, arms coming around me last second, saving me from the fall.

She half-supports my weight as she leads me to our desks at the back of the room, gently guiding me to sit in mine. She drops down, eye-level, and takes my hands in hers. “Sophie, look at me. You’re okay. I’m here. Breathe for me.”

I try to listen, I really do, but I can’t gulp air in fast enough.

My chest tightens as my emotions overwhelm me, taking me to a dark place.

Then Sal’s grip tightens on my hands, almost painfully, and it snaps me out of it.

“With me,” she says, then breathes deeply, in and out.

Her voice is nearly a whisper, but I hear it loud and clear.

Within a few moments, my breathing slows and my head begins to clear.

I glance around and notice almost everyone staring at me, some with their mouths agape.

My eyes widen in horror and I shrink back into my seat, trying to disappear, realizing I’ve now embarrassed myself in front of the entire class.

Sal’s head whips around, eyes narrowing on those closest to us. “Mind your business!” she yells out. Thankfully everyone listens, quickly averting their gazes. Then she turns back to me, her voice dropping low, “You are going to be okay. Let’s make it through class, and then we'll talk.”

I nod, quickly swiping at my eyes to hide the tears that have gathered there. Then I turn my attention to the new teacher, Theo’s replacement. She’s staring at me, eyes filled with what looks like worry, from her seat at his desk.

Finally, she stands. “Hello, I’m Ms. Jones.

I will be your teacher for the remainder of the year.

There isn’t much time left, so I will focus on making sure you’ve met all requirements for the class and getting you all ready for the final exam.

Sound good?” A smile lights up her face, and I must admit, she seems kind.

A chorus of ‘yes’ chimes from around the room, and then she nods. “Great, I will call roll in just a few minutes and then we will get started. Please, don’t hesitate to let me know if you need help with anything, or have any questions.”

I glance back over at Sal, her eyes locked on mine. I swallow hard and she gives me a soft smile, and I am forever grateful for her presence. I wouldn’t make it through this without her, I’m convinced of it.

I hold on through the rest of class, and the next two, grateful when lunch time arrives. I find Sal in the hallway, and with one glance at me, she nods, grabbing my hand and leading me towards her car. We shut ourselves inside.

As soon as the door shuts, I start to cry. Sal leans over from the driver seat, pulling me into her arms, and squeezes me tight. “Oh, Sophie. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

I’m sobbing too hard to even form words, so I just let her hold me until my eyes run dry and I can finally speak. “He left, he’s gone. I don’t—don’t know where he went.”

“I’m sure he isn’t gone for good,” she says, pulling back and shaking her head. “That man loves you, he wouldn’t just leave without a trace.”

“Then where is he?” I ask, exasperated. I drop my head back in the seat, sinking down into it further. “I have no phone, no car, my parents took everything.”

“What? That’s insane!” she yelps. “Here, use mine. Message him. I have him on Facebook, that’s how I messaged him about, well, about your birthday…” Her voice drops off at the end.

Hope. A spark of hope lights within my chest. I grab the phone from her outreached hand and navigate to Facebook Messenger faster than she can even blink. I type in his name, but nothing comes up. My eyes flit to hers, “Where is he? He’s not coming up!”

She takes the phone back, scrolling through her messages, until her face falls, lips pursing tight. “Soph…” she sighs. “I think he blocked me.”

The groan that falls from my lips is feral, utter devastation. My last hope, gone. But then my eyes widen in realization. His house. I know where he lives.

“Sal, I need a favor…” She glances over at me, her eyes brimming with skepticism. “Take me to his house.”

She bites her bottom lip, contemplating my request. But then she nods and cranks the engine, throwing the car into drive and pulling off. “Tell me where to go.”

I sit up straighter in my seat, buckle my seat belt, and guide her there. It’s muscle memory at this point, the route fully laid out in my brain. My heart begins to race the closer we get, anxious as hell to see him.

Please be here. Please be home.

We pull right into the driveway, fuck trying to be discrete. I jump from the car before Sal can even put it into park, my feet pounding the pavement as I sprint for the door. I knock, but no one comes. I knock again, silence.

Not even the sound of Winnie barking at my arrival. A weight begins to grow in the pit of my stomach. Dread creeps in.

I turn, passing Sal where she’d been coming to join me, and round the house. When I make it to the back patio, looking in through the glass sliding doors, what was left of my heart shatters again.

It’s not empty, not completely. But Winnie’s bowl and toys and leashes are gone from their spot in the kitchen. The record player that Theo coveted is gone from its spot below the TV. It’s devoid of him. The important pieces, the things he’d grab in a rush to leave, are gone .

And that means so is he.

He truly left me. I drop to my knees on the brick patio, the sharp edges digging in. It should hurt, but it pales in comparison to the pain inside of me. The emotional torment and physical ache of where my heart once resided in my chest.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

I repeat the word on an endless loop in my head, but I don’t cry. I’ve run out of tears. And when Sal finds me, leading me back to her car, I’m overcome with a sense of numbness. I don’t feel anything, not anymore.

It’s scarier than the tears.

We return to school, just in time to not miss the next class. When Sal and I part ways, I see the worry in her eyes, the fear for me. I give her a quick hug and thank her for trying. For taking me. Though, now, I wish I hadn’t gone.

But it’s too late. I know, and that’s almost worse than wondering or worrying.

The rest of the day is a blur, and more than once, someone has to try multiple times to get my attention.

I swear I catch looks and whispers in the halls, but I can’t be sure it’s not just my mind playing tricks on me.

My subconscious is wary of everyone and everything in light of all that’s occurred.

I push through the day, finding my mother waiting at the doors after the final bell. She whisks me home, making only a few snide comments on the way, and I refuse to engage. When we arrive, I head straight to my bed, and succumb to more restless sleep.

The next few weeks leading up to graduation are more of the same. Sleep, school, chores, sleep. Sal has made an effort to try and pull me out of my funk, but nothing works. I have no energy, no desire to do anything fun.

Graduation is this coming weekend, and I’d rather claw out my own eyeballs than attend the ceremony. I’d rather quietly collect my diploma from the school office and fade away .

I’m not eating much, I’m not sleeping well, I’m a fucking mess. I’ve lost weight. I look ghostly, and the worst part is, I couldn’t care less. I’ve been depressed before, so I’m no stranger to this emptiness, but this time somehow feels worse.

My sister crashes into my room, a ball of energy, and throws herself onto the bed next to me. “Soph! I got into the summer dance program!”

I groan, hiding my face under the blanket. But then the guilt crowds in. I suck it up, pulling myself up to a sitting position in bed. “That’s great, Bells. Proud of you.”

She frowns, looking me up and down, and I wince. I know I look horrid. I don’t want to worry her though, any more than I’m sure she already is. “I’m okay,” I say.

She shakes her head, “No, you’re not.” She rips the covers off of me and grabs my hand, yanking me from the bed. “Get up, you’re taking a shower. A long one.” She scrunches up her nose, “You stink.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, the word dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t feel like showering.”

“I don’t care! Come on, this is what sisters are for. Helping each other. Let me help you.”

I nod in submission and follow her to the bathroom, watching as she cranks the water up as hot as it will go and then steps back, giving me room. “Shower. I’ll wait for you in your room.”

I roll my eyes, but comply. I appreciate her more than she knows, for trying. Even Sal seems to have given up hope. I can’t blame her, though.

I undress and step into the steamy shower, letting the hot water cascade down my shoulders.

The spray tickles my scalp as it penetrates my thick curls, desperately in need of a good wash.

I’ve mostly left it in a bun for the past few weeks, unable to muster the energy to care for it properly.

It’s a tangled mess, so I start there, lathering it with conditioner and running my fingers through it in an attempt to get some of the knots out.

I shampoo, then condition again. Twice. Then I lather my body with soap, and take care to scrub every inch, trying to wash the negativity down the drain. I watch the water swirl, imagining it taking my sadness, my grief, right along with it.

I stand there until the water runs cold, forcing myself only then to climb out and dry off, wrapping one towel around my hair and one around my chest. I pad softly back to my bedroom, finding Bells waiting there on my bed, just as she said she’d be.

“Hi,” she smiles, then points to my desk chair. “Sit.”

I nod and do as she says. She comes to stand behind me, a brush and bottle of detangler now in her hands. She pulls the towel from my hair and gets to work, gently moving from section to section, combing my hair and bringing it back to life.

Maybe bringing me back to life, little by little.

A soft smile graces my lips as she begins to hum a song, and she catches it in the small makeup mirror. “There you are.”

“Here I am.”