Page 37

Lucas

The days whiz by so fast, it’s like they’re trying to break a new record. It took much longer than it should’ve to schedule some time to catch up with Aurora. The only time that worked for both of us—well, for me— is pretty early, and I need to get out of the door within the next three minutes if I want to get there before she does.

Which I need to.

Xander is making coffee in the kitchen, and I drop a kiss on his cheek as I rush past. But he grabs my arm and yanks me back, and despite me being much larger and much stronger, I stumble into him.

“I know you’ve got places to be, but you’re not walking out of here without giving me a proper kiss.”

Internally, I groan. Xander knows that when he uses that tone—confident dominance with a touch of I know what’s best for you —all I want to do is drop to my knees and let him do whatever he wants to me. I don’t have time for that right now, though, and my dick isn’t very happy about it.

Taking hold of my chin, Xander pulls me in for a slow, languid kiss that steals all the tension from my body. When he releases me, he smiles.

“Yeah. Figured you needed that.”

It takes me a moment to regain my bearings. “Thanks.”

“Tell Rora I said hi.”

“Will do.”

And then I’m off, hopping on my bike and racing down the streets toward the coffee shop we’re meeting at. She always tries to beat me there so she can order the tiniest, lowest-calorie menu item, and it pisses me off. Not at her—never at her.

At Dad for never giving her any attention.

At the toxic world of ballet for worshiping thinness.

At her high school friends who competed with each other to see who could lose the most weight within a week.

They all played a part in giving Rora insecurities that, no matter what I try to do, are determined to stick around.

When I make it to the shop, I don’t see her car parked on the street, so I rush inside and order for both of us. I get myself a coffee and Rora a large hot chocolate. She comes in after a few minutes, her tiny frame wrapped up in her light pink peacoat that Greg bought her a few years ago. God, she’s so thin, it looks like a light breeze could blow her over.

When Aurora spots me, she smiles and waves, but my stomach drops. She looks exhausted. The spark in her eyes has faded once again, although she’s trying to fake it. I guarantee she has bags under her eyes, carefully hidden by the makeup she’s wearing.

“Hey.” She throws her arms around my neck. “How are you?”

“All right. You doing okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

Both lying to each other, yet again.

“I’ve already got our drinks at our table,” I say.

Her smile wavers for a split second before she loops her arm through mine. I lead her to our table and take a few deep, even breaths. It’s all I can do to keep my thoughts from raging.

I hate ballet.

Fucking hate it.

Once we’re seated, I take a sip of my coffee, hoping Rora will follow suit with her hot chocolate. “How are your classes going?”

Aurora is a junior, and just like me and Theo, she’s attending Pemberton University. Her plan is to graduate with a dance major, specializing in ballet, and get into a company as quickly as possible.

“They’re going fine,” she says with a shrug. “Boring, mostly, except for dancing. Hurt my ankle a few weeks ago, but it got better pretty fast.”

Now that I don’t believe. Ever since Rora started dancing, I’ve watched a lot of her friends injure themselves. They always— always —start dancing again before their body is ready for it.

“You took it easy while it was healing?” I ask.

“Yeah. I mean, I still had to go to rehearsals or I would’ve gotten recast, so I just marked everything.”

“And you stayed off pointe?”

Rora rolls her eyes. “Obviously. I have no desire to make the injury worse, Luc. I won’t be able to perform at all that way.”

“What’s this? Aurora Wilson admitting that sometimes, she has to take it easy on her body? Shit, get a reporter in here. This is headline-worthy.”

“Oh, shut up,” she mutters.

“I’m serious. I don’t think those words have ever left your mouth before.”

“I don’t have to when you tell me every time you see me.”

Ouch.

I clear my throat. “You never told me what roles you got cast in the Nutcracker.”

Aurora takes a long, quiet sip of her drink. Back when we were kids, we used to have contests to see which of us could slurp our hot chocolate the loudest. Now, she’s as quiet as a mouse.

“For the first act, I got toy soldier again, and snow,” she says, sighing. “That’s gonna be one hell of a quick change.”

“Second act?”

“Flowers, marzipan, and…” Aurora glances away, eyes glassy. “Sugar Plum understudy.”

Reaching across the table, I squeeze her arm. “I’m sorry, Rora.”

“It’s fine.” She sniffles, and I watch as she tucks her real self away. When she meets my gaze again, she’s sitting straight, her head held high. “I’ll get it next year. I’m going to put my all into these roles, especially the understudy one. Same with my classes. And then hopefully the artistic director will notice my dedication and cast me next year.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure to put on yourself.”

“I can handle it.”

With a disapproving hum, I lean back in my chair. I don’t like this—not one bit.

Obviously uncomfortable with my lack of response, Aurora squirms in her seat. “I mean, she gave me the understudy role, and that’s gotta mean something, right? If she thinks I can perform it if something happens, then I have a chance for next year. Maybe this is just, like… extra training.”

“Does that happen a lot?” I ask. “An understudy getting the real role the next year?”

“Sometimes. And in this case, I’m going to make sure it happens.”

“Rora…”

“Don’t,” she whispers. “Please don’t. This is my last chance, Lucas. I’m not good enough to be anything but corps in the real world. A demi-soloist at best, maybe. But never good enough to be the Sugar Plum Fairy.”

“That’s not true,” I bite out.

“You don’t get it.” Tears fill her eyes. “You’ve never seen a professional ballet performance. They have this extra grace that I just don’t. And their technique… god, Lucas. I can’t beat that. But I can here.”

She’s wrong. I know she is, and it’s not just because I’m her older brother. I’ve heard her teachers compliment her. This past year, she made it into an elite summer intensive program. I was the one who picked her up, and the instructors there fawned over her. One of them told me she had the potential to become a principal dancer.

When I told Aurora that, she refused to believe me. In her eyes, she’ll never be enough, even if she’s the best.

I rub my face. She’s already a year ahead in school. It’s why she felt comfortable taking the college route for ballet instead of jumping straight into an apprenticeship. She’s sacrificing a couple years that she could be at a company, but she said she wanted the extra time to develop her technique. Something about starting later in her childhood and being behind.

“You put a lot of pressure on yourself,” Aurora challenges, and she starts counting off things on her fingers. “School, Xander, football, the Rooks, trying to take care of me and Mom even though you don’t have to anymore, working out—”

“All right, all right, I get it. Jesus.”

“If you can handle the pressure, then so can I,” she states confidently.

I’d be proud of her, but I’d prefer her confidence be directed at other areas of her life, not how large of a workload she can take on.

“That’s different,” I grit out.

“Oh? Why?”

“Because—”

Because I’ve sacrificed so much so you wouldn’t have to feel this way.

Because I’m the one who’s supposed to bear all the burdens.

“I don’t know, it just is, okay? You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.”

She hides her wince by glancing away. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Rora—”

“How’s your friend? The one who needed the anxiety meds?”

“She’s… fine.”

“That doesn’t sound too convincing.”

“She’ll be fine. We’re working on it.”

“Does she need more meds? I have plenty.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think she’s had to take any more. But speaking of, why did you stop taking them? What changed?”

“I just found… other coping strategies.”

“Like?”

“Things that work.”

“Aurora.”

“I can handle myself, Lucas. I’m a grown ass adult.”

“You’re nineteen,” I say flatly.

“Ugh, not you, too. Why can’t you just let me live my life?!”

“Because I don’t want you to end up in the hospital again,” I snap, my fists clenching under the table.

I regret my words instantly. The hurt on Aurora’s face is the same it was when I was at my most desperate. It was a mistake, yelling at her to try to get her to eat. It was the closest I’ve ever gotten to acting like our father, and I’ve despised myself for it ever since.

She needed my support, and I gave her my anger. I betrayed her. So when I came to my senses, I pledged to never be the reason for the pain in her eyes ever again. And fuck, it’s not like she wanted to end up in the hospital at the age of sixteen, dehydrated and malnourished. She was a kid. She’d been pressured. Manipulated. Misled.

It wasn’t her fault.

With a sigh, I reach across the table and take Aurora’s hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to fight. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am, I promise.” She squeezes gently before pulling away. “Thanksgiving break is almost here, and I promise I’ll give myself some time to chill.”

“Good. Everything okay at the house?”

“Mmhmm.” To my relief, Aurora takes another sip of her hot chocolate. “Greg has been busy. I’ve caught him ranting to Theo about Mark a few times. Is everything all right?”

“With the Rooks? Yeah, everything is fine.”

Just like I was, Aurora was given the chance to join the Glass Rooks, but she declined. She wanted her only focus to be ballet, and she has no interest in anything the Rooks are involved in. The only thing I care about is that she’s safe, and since she’s family, the Rooks’ protection extends to her.

But since she’s not a member, I can’t tell her the truth. It goes against the Rooks’ protocols, although it’s one I’d break for the right person. Aurora, though? I want her as far from this shit—and the stress that comes with it—as possible.

“And how’s Mom?” I ask. “I’ve been meaning to call her.”

“She’s good,” Aurora says, and for the first time since we sat down, her smile turns genuine. “She’s started humming again. I forgot she used to do that until I heard her the other day.”

“That’s good. That’s… that’s really good.”

Mom used to hum to herself all the time—while she did chores, while she went on walks, while she showered. She stopped after she realized Dad was cheating on her. He’d already crushed her self confidence down to nothing but dust, and that sucked the rest of the life out of her.

I’ve thought about hunting him down and killing him more than once, but he’s not worth it. My energy is better spent elsewhere.

“I know you don’t like Greg, but he’s really good for her,” Aurora tells me.

“That’s the thing that matters, right?”

“Yeah.” Her smile falters. “We miss you, though.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Greg and I don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but I don’t consider him to be a bad person. Honestly, I can’t pinpoint what exactly it is about him that I dislike, but I always trust my gut. It’s rarely wrong.

“Is Xan doing okay?”

“Yeah. Really well, honestly, other than he misses Phil and Rachel. He says hi, by the way.”

“Tell him I said hi, too. And… maybe you two could stop by the house sometime? Maybe for dinner? I think it’d make Mom really happy.”

For however much I hate being in Greg’s mansion, I nod. “We’ll make the time soon. I’ll definitely be there for Thanksgiving.”

Xander has plans to go back to our hometown to spend it with his family. He always does. I want to go with him, or for him to stay, but he needs time with his family, and Rora and Mom need me.

Maybe one day, we can spend holidays together.

Shit. What the hell are we going to do with Haven?

Colton has skipped out on holiday gatherings with his family since he turned eighteen. Normally he takes some kind of trip, but with us taking care of Haven, I don’t think he has any plans.

I’ll have to ask him.

Aurora and I talk for the next hour, and I’m relieved when she finishes off her hot chocolate. An actual, solid breakfast would be better, but it’s good to see her not avoiding sugar.

When we part ways, I wait until Rora gets in her car and drives off before getting on my bike. I take the long way home, wanting a few extra minutes of riding. Xander and I haven’t gotten out together in way too long, and I miss losing ourselves in the thrill of zipping down a highway, surrounded by nothing but the blur of trees.

When I step inside the house, Xander and Colton are in the kitchen cleaning up from breakfast. Haven must be watching a class because I don’t see her downstairs.

“Hey, Colt, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Same as usual. I’ll just hang around here and work on random shit.”

“What about Haven?”

That gets Xander to look up, and his and Colton’s expressions tell me they forgot about her, too.

“Doesn’t she normally do holidays with Athelia’s family?” Xander asks.

“Yeah,” Colton says, “but do you think it’d be safe for her to go? That guy has to know Athelia is Haven’s roommate. He could follow her home.”

“We could follow them instead,” Xander suggests. “Stay with them for twenty or thirty miles to make sure they aren’t being tailed.”

Colton stays silent for a couple minutes. He could force her to stay here, or Xander could take her back home. I’d take her to my family’s, but I don’t want to deal with them asking questions.

“Yeah,” Colton says eventually. “That could work. Probably better than her staying here with me. We’ll ask her—”

“Are you guys talking about Thanksgiving?” Haven asks, and we turn to see her making her way through the living room from the stairs.

“Did you finish your class already?” Colton asks with a disbelieving frown.

“No, I—um. Wes texted me, but Colton, did you say you’re not doing anything for Thanksgiving?”

“Never do. Holidays are overrated, anyway.”

Xander and I share a knowing look. We’ve tried to get Colton to come with us for holidays—either to stay with Xander or spend the day with my family—but he’s always refused. At first, I thought it was because he actually hated holidays. Now I know better.

“Oh,” Haven says quietly.

“If you want to go with Athelia, we could make it work,” I say. “We’d have to take some precautions, and you’d have to be incredibly careful with what you tell her, but it’s a possibility.”

“I’ll ask her.”

“Wait.” Colton drops the spatula he’s washing. “Did you say Wes texted you? Like Wesley Carver?”

It’s then that I realize she has her phone in her hand. We let her have it every once in a while so she can keep up with Athelia and Julie, but most of the time, Colton keeps it under lock and key. He’s too worried she’ll do something that’ll accidentally give her location away.

“Yeah. He wants me to meet up with Athelia.”

Colton stalks over to Haven and snatches her phone. “What the fuck? How does he even have your number?”

“He used to be one of Athelia’s best friends, remember?”

“Yeah, years ago! Why didn’t you delete his number?”

I’d tease Colton about how jealous he sounds, but I don’t have time for this shit. “Why does he want you two to meet up?”

“He says she’s lonely, which is kinda confusing,” Haven replies. “How the fuck would he know?”

The three of us exchange a glance. We probably should’ve told Haven that her best friend moved in with her three bullies, but we knew she’d get curious. And Haven getting curious right now is a very, very dangerous thing.

Colton hands the phone back to Haven. “We could potentially make that work.”

“Athelia told me she moved. I can get the new address from—”

“We know where she’s staying,” Xander cuts in. “It’s far enough off campus that it should be safe. No one would look for you there.”

“And one of us will stay with you just in case,” Colton adds.

At that, Haven’s face falls. “I’d prefer to catch up with her alone.”

“Do you actually want our protection?” Xander asks frustratedly. “Because you’re really not acting—”

“She’ll be fine,” I say, a plan forming in my head. “Like you said, no one knows where Athelia is staying. Haven deserves a little alone time. She’s been cooped up in here for what, two weeks? Something like that? Give her a break.”

Both Colton and Xander look pissed at me, and I know they’re going to give me hell the second we’re alone, so I ignore their glares.

“Can I see her now?” Haven asks eagerly.

“Why not?” I shrug my leather jacket back on. “Go get ready. I’ll take you.”