Page 12 of False Idols

“Sorry, what?” I pretend I care that I wasn't listening, but I don’t. I’m not the kid I was when I went in, but my mother doesn’t know that. No one in Bloom knows how fucked up I am now and it’s going to stay that way. I don’t want anyone saving Nevaeh before I’m done with her. I’m going to make her scream.

“Your books and schedule? You have that all for tomorrow, right?” My mother is petite with brown hair that’s cut to her chin. My hair is darker, much darker than hers or my father, but I do have her eyes. I look like my father in every other way, but my mother and my eyes are the identical shade of blue.

“Of course he does,” my father rumbles and claps me on the back. I’ve got his build and stature. He played a wide receiver here and talks about it as if he’s never done another successful thing in his life, even though he owns the largest construction and development group in the state. “It’s a damn shame you can’t play ball this year. You would have been sensational on the field back then, son. Would have loved to see you in the colors.”

Back then.

He makes it sound like decades since I took the field, not four years. It may as well have been a century ago. A lifetime ago. I loved football. I dreamed about wearing the silver and royal blue my father wore, but now it’s never going to happen. Another thing Nevaeh took from me.

I shrug, lifting my bag higher on my shoulder. “It’ll be nice getting to a game now and then this year.”

“We got you season tickets. You can go whenever you like,” my mother tells me.

“Thanks, mom.” I kiss her cheek but my eyes are scanning the green space around us. We’re standing in The Oval, the quintessential spot on Bloom State campus that’s a point of pride for how it offers the best view of the school’s cathedral and the Green. It’s a wide open lawn that slopes downhill to the trees that work as a living wall between the campus and Bloom’s streets. The dorms are to the west of us, just behind the cathedral and the rest of campus to the East. The libraries and buildings and Unions spill out that way towards the football stadium until you reach Fraternity Row. I used to go up that way and party with Carrie and her friends before The Reaper cut her to pieces.

Why the fuck didn’t we go there that night instead of Bloom Point?

So fucking stupid. Stupid fucking goddamn-

“That little bitch is here!” My mother’s whisper may as well be a scream. I see her the second my mother does. Nevaeh. She’s walking with a girl I’ve never seen before. A little blonde thing that’s arm and arm with her. I frown. She’s supposed to be alone. Not with a friend. What the fuck is this? But then I see Pastor Mike and two dipshits I remember following me around in youth group.

“Pastor Mike is with her,” I observe. I tuck my hands in the pockets of the pressed slacks I have on. I look like a fucking rich douche. Like I did before I got locked up with murderers and became one too. I found my way, though and earned my respect. If they saw me dressed like this, they would gut me and I would let them. Doesn’t matter though, it’s a disguise that works as good as the dark hood The Reaper hides behind. That’s all I remember seeing from that night. A hooded figure, something that looked like a robe, slamming into me on my way down the path after Carrie. She was supposed to just be taking a piss but then I heard her scream and I knew something was wrong. I was drunk though, high too, and I fell more than I didn’t in the dark trying to find her. The Reaper ran right into me then and knocked me on my ass, covering me in Carrie’s blood.

I thought I was going to marry her and he covered me in her blood. My hands curl at my sides and anger rises up in me but then my mother steps in front of me and clucks her tongue at the sight of Pastor Mike and the bitch that put me away.

“She has some fucking nerve showing up here. I thought they took that scholarship away from her.”

I nod. “I know.”

My mother sighs and shakes her head. “I can’t believe you’re forgiving her.”

I say the words I practiced a million times when there was nothing to do but pace my cell and look at Nevaeh’s photos. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Beside us the camera crew van is pulling up. The brakes squeal when they come to a stop and I know it’s showtime. My mother may be kicking up a fuss at Nevaeh being here, but we need her here. It wouldn’t work without her.

“She was just a kid,” I add.

My father makes a noncommittal grunt. “It’s very admirable of you son. I’m proud of you.”

“So am I,” my mother sniffs and hugs me. “My poor baby.”

I pat her shoulder and let her hug me and sniffle into my shirt, but I don’t look away from Nevaeh. I can’t look away, because she’s smiling. I watch as she smiles, as her lush lips curve up, before I see the white flash of her teeth when she laughs. Sunlight warms her skin and bounces off her dark hair. It shines, hints of red and gold show and I want to fucking touch her. God. How many hours did I stare at my shitty printed out photos of her?

Nothing compares to the real fucking thing, even if she’s a hundred feet away from me. I want to get closer, but my mother won’t let go and the camera crew and news reporter are talking to my father.

“There she is!” The news reporter chirps and points at Nevaeh. I want to slap her hand away. I don’t want anyone else looking at Nevaeh but me. I waited a long fucking time for this, but I stay where I am. Still as a statue and with a dumb as fuck kid smile on my face, like everything is perfectly fine and the girl that I’ve thought about for four years isn’t walking so close I can hear the tone of her voice.

“Are you ready?” The reporter is getting mic’d up or something, but I don’t pay much attention. I just nod and say the line they expect with an easy going smile.

“Of course I am. I’ve been waiting for this for a very long time.”

“Well, wait no longer! Come with me, young man.” The reporter takes off across the green like they own the place and heads straight for Nevaeh. Adrenaline hits my body. I’m so fucking close to her. I want her to look at me. I fucking need her to. I’ve looked at her for so long, not having her eyes on me makes me want to break something. I want to fucking kill everyone she looks at.

“Excuse me! Miss Santiago! Miss Santiago!” The reporter has her hand up and is waving down Nevaeh’s group. I don’t miss the way Nevaeh’s big brown eyes get bigger and she looks like she’s going to faint.

I notice the second she sees me.

“Can we get a moment of your time?”

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