Idle (The Seven Deadly #4)

I FELL ASLEEP IMMEDIATELY. I knew life always looked different in the light of day, at least that’s what I’d hoped. Around three in the morning, though, I was woken up by a few loud partiers across the hall. I tried everything I could to get back to sleep to no avail. They were getting louder and louder and louder until finally I couldn’t take any more.


I threw the covers off me and opened my room door to see Lyric, of all people, in T-shirt and wind shorts, her hair sticking up at all angles.

“You’re waking up the whole damn floor!” She was yelling at four obviously inebriated men.

They all turned toward me when I opened my door.

“Lyric?” I asked, my voice scratchy from sleep.

She ignored me and turned back toward the men. They had the decency to appear appropriately checked.

“So sorry,” one of them said. The others fought a giggle but kept quiet. “We’ll keep it down.”

They went back into their room and shut their door. As Lyric turned around, she glanced at me but didn’t acknowledge me. She went straight into Salinger’s room, closing the door behind her.

I stood there, my heart racing, my stomach queasy.

Why is she in Salinger’s room?

What is Lyric doing in Salinger’s room?

Oh my God, I’m so stupid.

I stood there, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Well, if that isn’t a giant bucket of ice water…



Confirmed.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


“GET UP,” I quieted to myself for the hundredth time that morning.

I fought the urge to stay where I was, to forget everything, and just let the world swallow me up how it saw fit. I’d cried for hours, cried myself back to sleep, only to wake up at eleven in the morning and cry again. I had an hour before my first round was to begin.

I didn’t know what to do. I honestly didn’t know what to do.

“I miss Mom,” I told the ceiling, tears streaming down the sides of my face.

I imagined her sitting on the edge of the other bed in the room.

“What should I do, Mom?” I asked her.

She didn’t answer me, though.

I imagined she smiled at me, and that made me miss her more than I could possibly explain. I wanted to roll over and hug her as tight as I could to keep her from leaving me again.

“Mama, I miss you,” I told the imaginary figure sitting there. “So much. I wish you could have seen me make something of myself. I wish you could have seen all the work I should have done while you were here. I wish you could have seen that in person. I regret not doing that for you. I know you were only capable of so much, and I should have shown you what it meant to be strong. I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up that night.” I sobbed into my hands then wiped my face on my sleeve. “So sorry for that. More sorry than you could comprehend.

“I feel awfully alone without you. I know I have Ansen and Katie, but they’re their own entity, aren’t they? They’d do anything for me, I know it, but it’s not the same.

“The girls seem to be doing so well it’s actually scaring me. I’m scared they don’t need me anymore. That frightens me because I love them more than I love myself. And I want to be someone’s most important person. Know what I mean? I feel if I was someone’s most important person I would have reason, value.”

I stared at her beautiful face, forever stuck in that state, never to grow old, never to see me marry or my sisters marry, never to know grandchildren.

I rolled onto my side and curled into a ball.

“I feel like I stole a lot of things away from you and the girls, Mama. I’m desperate for forgiveness, but you can’t forgive me, can you? That’s why I feel stuck. So stuck.”

I pulled the covers over my head, unable to look at her anymore, regardless that she was only there because I’d put her there. I laid there for countless minutes, counting the breaths I took that didn’t really belong to me.

My phone began to ring and it startled me. I tossed the cover once more to stop the grating sound but when I sat up, my mother was gone. I stared at the perfectly unrumpled bedding where I’d imagined her.

The phone rang once more and I picked it up.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Young lady, where in the Sam Hill are you?” Bernard asked me.

“I’m still in my room.”

“What in heavens—” he began but stopped short. “It’s no matter. Get up. Come down here. You have half an hour before your first round. I expect to see you in ten.”

I sighed. “Yes, sir.”

I hung up and decided I’d obey him. He’d come looking for me if I didn’t anyway. And for some reason, I didn’t want to disappoint Bernard. He’d been so kind to me, despite his rough demeanor. I was starting to learn that Bernard had his own way of caring for others. It was unconventional, but it was kindness.

So I stood up, stripped my clothes off, and headed for the shower, brushed my teeth, and dressed in clean clothing, placing my lanyard around my neck. I’d barely towel dried my hair when I decided I no longer cared. I forewent makeup, didn’t bother to dry, let alone brush my hair, and wore an old pair of slippers I’d brought from home on a whim instead of my nicer shoes.

I left the room, the key in my back pocket, and headed for the elevators. My saturated hair dripped down the back of my T-shirt. When the doors opened, there was a group of women standing, waiting to get on. They looked at me strangely as I passed them.

The skittles room was packed, but I found Bernard at a table in the far back. The stares I got walking from the front of the room to him made my skin crawl. Bernard’s eyes bugged when he saw me. He stood.

“There’s something wrong with you,” he told me.

“I’m fine,” I could barely say.

He looked worried. “Let me get Salinger,” he said.

“No,” I said a little too forcefully. “No,” I said again, softer.

He leaned toward me. “Are you sure?”

“I’m certain. Shall we discuss strategies?” I asked him, desperate to change the subject.

“Only if you are capable,” he stated.

“I’m more than,” I assured him.

He eyed me as if he didn’t believe me but gestured to the nearest table. “Sit then.”

We discussed strategy vigorously, but I found without a cluttered head I remembered everything as if I was recalling my own name. And my head was just that. Uncluttered or unable to cope with anything, however you wanted to look at it. Either way, I was starting to feel okay with it.

It was the most peace I’d felt in a long time.

Someone blew open the skittles room door and announced the first round. Bernard stood when I did.

“The best of luck to you, young lady.”

“Thank you, Bernard.”

I turned and made for the double doors that led into the corridor. Halfway through the room, I noticed a group of people. Among them were Salinger and Lyric. They stood next to one another. I searched my chest and stomach and wondered where my earlier feelings were, but they weren’t there. Just as well.

“Is that Lily?” Peter Aurek asked the group.

I felt everyone’s eyes when they turned to see who Peter was referring to. My dripping hair stuck to the sides of my face. I was certain my eyes looked red and swollen. I knew what I looked like.

Salinger’s eyes popped wide. “Lily?” he whispered.

I closed my eyes when he did it. A sliver of pain blasted through my entire body when he said my name but dissipated just as quickly. I was broken.

I ignored him.

“She’s fucking crazy,” Lyric said, probably delighting in my current state.

I didn’t blame her. If I was an opportunist as she was, I’d exploit me for everything it was worth too.

I’d just passed them when I heard her laugh. “Something is seriously wrong with her.”

I felt their eyes on the back of my head but kept going.

“Lily!” Salinger called out again, but I didn’t respond.

Instead, I passed through the doorway and straight for the tournament hall. When I reached it, the official stared at me, confused.

“Are you… competing?” he asked.

“Yes. Lily Hahn.”

He stuttered out an okay and flipped through his list. “Uh, uh, table twelve, seat three.”

I nodded and found my spot.

I sat.

I waited.

And waited.

A boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, sat across from me.