Page 6 of Reckless Hearts
My reflection is captured in the mirror, and not for the first time, I wish my fucking face would somehow reflect my insides. That the poison and rot that exist inside me would show on my face as a warning to the world.
But instead, I look normal. Marcus Johnson is dressed for a night of fun.
Saskia’s voice circles in my head, vicious and taunting.
Doesn’t crazy run in your family?
There’s a self-combust part of my personality. I know it, and I try to keep a lid on it.
But now, I can feel that part simmering, seizing control.
I’m going to do something stupid. Something fucking stupid. I know it. I don’t know how it’ll manifest itself, but I can feel the tornado whirling inside me, and I know it will cause havoc wherever it lands.
My mind falls to the dealer I saw earlier in the night. I party hard, but always with alcohol, not drugs. I’ve never wanted to tempt the genetic gods by putting anything other than alcohol into my bloodstream.
But right now, alcohol won’t be enough to escape my own brain the way I crave.
Time to get high.
I open the door to the bathroom and take a step out. I’m about to head down to the living room when a familiar figure emerges at the top of the stairs like a vision.
Little Kleggs.
I stop short and stare at him.
Fuck, as Saskia’s brother, he’s always been so out of bounds. I flirt outrageously with him, but I always know where to draw the line.
Now, as I stare at that familiar blush spreading up his cheeks when he sees me, an urge surges inside me. To stomp and stamp all over that line.
I step toward him.
3
Seb
“Little Kleggs!” It’s Marcus’s voice. He glides across the hallway toward me. I stand there blinking at him like a startled possum. “Where are you off to?”
I’m actually planning to retreat to my room, put on my headphones, and watchStar Warson my laptop. After an evening feeling like an outcast in my own home, watching a movie about a lonely orphan on a rocky outcrop becoming the hero of the galaxy is quite appealing.
I’ve watchedA New Hopeso many times I can recite the dialogue backward and forward, but there’s something comforting about that. Like having a friend who never gets tired of hearing your weird theories about how the Force might actually work if you applied quantum mechanics to it.
I send a quick glance to my bedroom door, and apparently, that serves as my answer to Marcus.
“You’re not leaving the party already, are you? It’s just getting started.”
“It’s all Saskia’s friends,” I mutter.
He stares at me, and something almost like despair crosses his face before it disappears.
“Tell you what…why don’t we move the party into your room?” His voice is low and husky.
My eyes fly to his in disbelief. Marcus is normally at the center of any social action. He’s the type of guy who can walk into any room and immediately own it, who has everyone competing for his attention and laughing at his jokes within minutes. He’s got this effortless way of making everyone feel like they’re the most interesting person he’s ever met while somehow remaining the most captivating person in any room.
All of his and Saskia’s friends are downstairs, and he wants to hang out with me? Is this some parallel dimension I’ve suddenly found myself in?
Or is he just messing with me? Is he pretending he wants to hang out, only to laugh at me for believing him?
Even as I think the words, I dismiss them.
