Page 27 of Queen Rose

Aria

Iwake up not at all refreshed. My eyes scan the room, hoping to find comfort in the familiarity, but I can’t. Nothing about this space feels good to me anymore. Everything has been contaminated—from the stuffed animals to my clothing to cheer competition trophies. This room is no longer my own. I don’t feel safe here. I spent half the night wondering if I was going to get a visitor who would destroy all the good feelings I’d had with Nate. Why the fuck does Conner have to be around so damn much? I’d laugh at my own question, but I may cry. It’s not like this is unusual, and it’s also not like his presence hasn’t unnerved me for years now.

I’m fairly certain I’m not imagining things. Seeing me with Nate on multiple occasions lately has unhinged Conner a little more than usual and the look in his eyes is enough to send violent shivers running through me. Enough to wonder if I’ve already made a colossal mistake bringing Nate anywhere near the house. That was always the key with Xander; Conner never really saw us together (because we weren’t actually together) so things coasted along smoothly. Or as smoothly as they can when someone who is supposed to be like an uncle to you is behaving in ways he shouldn’t.

This thing with Nate is real, though, and if I’m not mistaken, Conner senses that someone is infringing on his perceived territory.

Getting way too familiar with me.

Becoming a threat to his coveted prize.

Little does he know, the ripe cherry he’s waited so long to pop has already been claimed by Nate. I wanted Nate to be the one. I wanted to be in control—and I knew he’d allow me whatever I needed. Because that’s Nate. And I like Nate. A lot. More than I ever thought I would. He’s healing me in ways he doesn’t even realize, fixing this broken queen and straightening her crown.

And if Conner doesn’t win in the end, well, too fucking bad for him. Despite what he thinks, he doesn’t own me. Not my mind or my body. The more I’m with Nate and the more my friends encourage me, the closer I get to releasing all my darkness into the light. Every horrific thing that Conner has done is right on the tip of my tongue, just waiting to come out.

Frankly, I’m scared shitless about it. Full-on-panic-attack-of-epic-proportions type of sick. And the longer I continue to hide Conner’s perversion, the more I’m afraid the explosion will be horribly ugly.

If Conner touches me now, I might break. But if I tell my truth, what will everyone think of me? They’ll never look at me the same way again. It’ll be “Poor Aria, the girl who was molested and abused.”

My heart sinks as a hushed voice in the back of my head whispers to me. They’ll think you’re a liar. They’ll think you’re disgusting. They’ll question why you said nothing. Or worse, they’ll think you wanted every one of his depraved touches.

Deep inside, my guts wrench and twist. If I tell, it will be the most painful, humiliating thing I’ve ever endured. If anyone finds out, it will destroy me. My mom and dad would never forgive me for bringing that kind of shame on our family.

It’s like I’ve been living two lives, me and my alter ego. There’s Queen Aria, the confident head cheerleader. But then there’s Conner’s Good Girl, who is so terrified, she freezes every time she thinks about unburdening herself of all the sick, awful things he does to her.

But is there a third identity developing inside me? A girl who wants more than anything to be like everyone else. Live a normal life. Be happy. The one who feels so connected to Nate she doesn’t know what to do about it other than let things develop and hope when he realizes how damaged she is on the inside, he doesn’t run.

I wouldn’t blame him. Not for a second.

On our date, he’d made me feel wanted, sexy, adored. He thinks I’m perfect the way I am, unlike certain other people in my life.

But then I’d gotten up to the house, and Conner had been with Dad, drinking and smoking cigars. The message in his eyes had been crystal clear. I would pay for trying to have some semblance of a normal teenage life.

Fortunately, just as Conner had begun to follow me upstairs, Franny had appeared on the landing. She’d gotten my note about needing some help next week. I don’t know if she’d noticed the relief on my face, but either way, Erin, Becca, and Brandon will be taken care of next Tuesday morning into Wednesday. Nate and I will have a whole day to be alone together. Or as alone as we can be with eight other people at the lake house.

Thank God Franny had been in the right place at the right time. I don’t want to think about what Conner’s intentions had been.

* * *

The bell rings, signaling the end of second period, and I tuck my notebook and my graphing calculator into my messenger bag, stand up, and smooth down my skirt. I take a deep breath. I just need to get through the school day. Spring break starts tomorrow—Friday—and I have so much to look forward to with our trip to the lake next week.

Micah juts his chin toward us. “I promised Daph I’d find her after class. We’ll catch up with you in the lunchroom in a few.”

Lyla sidles up to me, Beau right behind her. “Was that code for ‘I’m going to bang my girlfriend in the bathroom now’ or what?”

I let out an unladylike snort, and attempt to hide it by covering my mouth with one hand. “Micah’s a big guy. He has big needs. Sometimes in the middle of the school day.” Lyla and I exchange a look and burst out laughing.

Beau’s brows lift and his head bobs, a goofy grin on his face. “Not a bad plan, actually. Whaddaya think, Seven? You wanna go find a quiet spot? Or … we could stay in here? We already know Murphy never eats lunch in the classroom.” He gives her a naughty wink.

Lyla’s face turns beet red as she looks first at a particular desk over near the door, then back at Beau.

Holy shit.“Please tell me you cleaned the desk afterward.”

Both of them start laughing and Lyla buries her face in Beau’s chest. A muffled, “You jerk,” is just barely audible, especially once Beau begins to laugh even harder at her embarrassment.

“Baby, Aria knows how bad you have it for me. You don’t have to hide.”

Thud.Lyla’s fist lands square in the middle of Beau’s stomach. “You’re asking for it.”

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