Page 9 of Love is Angry

“Whoa, hold on,” Cameron tries to cut him off, but Rhue isn’t finished.

“No, no, it’s absolutely natural. I certainly wouldn’t blame you,” he says, talking fast and loud enough to impede any further interruptions. “But the problem is, Cameron, that Madison isn’t into young guys like you or me. She likes ’em older and filthy rich. If you have a father that fits that description, save yourself the emotional trauma and keep her away from him. I’m told her pussy is addictive. Costs a pretty penny, too. Am I right, Madison?”

Cameron lunges at Rhue with impressive speed, yet still misses him; albeit, by mere inches. It makes Rhue laugh as he moves farther back and raises his hands in a defensive manner.

“You’re sick!” Cameron hisses. He’d like to go after Rhue again, but he’s hesitating. Smart move not to pursue this any longer, I reckon.

Rhue Echeveria isn’t a coward. He just prefers avoiding fights because of how easy he loses control if he does get involved. He turns into a beast. Cameron doesn’t know this, but he’s dodging a bullet.

“I’m being honest.” Rhue offers a polite bow. “Consider this a warning. I’m not looking for fights, here, Cameron. But yourdad’s a senator, if I’m not mistaken. Just don’t bring Madison to any family brunches. Trust me, you’ll live to regret it.”

Cameron exhales sharply and gives me a dark but curious look. Part of him probably wonders if what Rhue said is true. I can see it in his soft brown eyes—the doubt. The “what if” lurking and waiting to dig its claws into his conscience, to poison his thoughts and pull him away from even considering me a clean enough person to be around. I should have seen this coming. Rhue will poison everyone against me, sooner or later.

“As you might have guessed, Rhue and I go back a while,” I say, my voice returning. I sound weak. Faded. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

“No, no, hold up,” Cameron replies. “None of this is right.” He looks to Rhue. “You are the one who needs to apologize to her.”

“Dude.” Rhue laughs. It’s just one word, but it’s meant to insult me. It works.

“He needs to apologize to you,” I say, then grab my book of pirates and walk away. I don’t even need to know what Rhue is doing here at this hour. I’ve already checked with the student body, and he’s renting an apartment off campus. Classes ended some time ago. He’s not supposed to be lurking around. By all appearances, he’s just going out of his way to stalk and harass me.

I point a finger at Rhue. “Your beef is with me, not Cameron. Apologize to him. Don’t be a dick,” I tell him and walk away.

My heart is breaking all over again. Pieces are falling apart, chunks collapsing into the darkness that has been festering inside me since that day at Rhue’s house.

I should have stayed home. I should have never gone back there. I know that now – how quickly one decision can change your entire life.

Cameron calls out after me, but I choose to ignore him. If I keep my distance from now on, maybe Rhue will leave him alone. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt over this.

It’s going to be a nice evening, I notice as I look up and see the dark pink sky. Streaks of fluorescent orange and puffy white ripple across, the shades darkening as the night begins to settle over Ithaca. A nice evening, already marred by my past coming back to bite me in the ass.

Chapter 5

Madison

Dad doesn’t know.

I never told him anything. I couldn’t bring myself to break his heart like this. Besides, he’s the knight in shining armor type who’s never afraid of the dragon; except, in this case, the dragon is Julian Echeveria, and he’s got enough fire in him to burn our entire family tree to a crisp. None of this is worth that kind of trouble, especially not after I have managed to put some distance between myself and that family.

Well, Laura’s a bit of an exception. They say you can’t choose your parents. That being born is basically a lottery. Either you luck out with good parents like mine, or you get scourges like Rhue and Laura’s. The kids never ask for trouble, yet trouble finds them, anyway. It’s how I summarize my experiences so far.

“You sound a million miles away,” Dad says. His voice reminds me that we’re still on the phone. I’m taking a walk around the campus building. My Bluetooth earphones are in and I’ve got my hands in my jacket pockets, where it’s warm. The evenings have gotten colder. The air is crisp, and sometimes, early in the morning, milky mist lingers on my lips when I breathe. I look forward to winter in Ithaca. I was told that it isbeautiful. “What’s wrong?” Dad says, pulling me away from my thoughts once again.

“Nothing, Dad. It’s just first day jitters,” I tell him.

Crossing the street, I look both ways and only see a pair of crimson taillights heading downtown. This town is practically deserted after eight on a weeknight, I realize. Sure, there are still some people out, most of them flocking into the supermarket for last minute shopping. No one’s walking aimlessly or bar hopping. Then again, I should have expected this. Ithaca isn’t New York. At least not in the traditional sense. I keep forgetting to tone my expectations down a little.

“But the first day is over, Maddie. You should be chilling,” Dad replies, almost laughing. I suppose my anxiousness makes sense to him, bringing back memories of his own college experiences. “The worst has already passed. You’re settling in.”

The worst has not yet come to pass, but I cannot tell him that. He’ll move to Ithaca and accompany me to classes just to make sure no one messes with his precious angel of a daughter—ugh, I’m anything but. I can’t tell him that either, though.

Dad has been like this, overprotective, since Mom died. I can’t blame him. I protect him just as fiercely.

“That’s true. You’re right, Dad, I should loosen up a little,” I say, trying to smile as I walk down the street. It’s easy for me to blend in with this black tracksuit I’ve got on. It’s one of the first things I learned back in Rochester after things blew up with Rhue. Staying out of people’s sight and minds is easier than tackling the problem head-on. “I guess there’s more to it, though. The stress of moving from one place to another. Not knowing anybody here. A new school. It’s a lot to take in.”

“But you have always been good at adapting, Maddie. For as long as I can remember, you’ve been this tough little cookie that can withstand anything. Remember what your mom used to callyou?” His voice breaks. I know he’s got an image of mom in the back of his head. “Her little tardigrade.”

I laugh. “Right. Yeah. Leave it to Mom, the rebellious middle-school science teacher, to whip up a cool nickname for her only daughter.”

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