Keller looks at me thoughtfully.
“You know, most people think that they know Raph—he’s got this perfect life and he’s untouchable. Every girl wants him, every guy wants to be him or is just scared shitless of him, etc.
“But I don’t think anyone really knows Raph. He puts on one hell of a front. That’s what being next in line to the throne does.”
I don’t want to hear anymore, because I was in a good place just a few minutes ago—resolved not to let myself get caught up in Raph’s twisted web again. I don’t want to think about the glimpses of him that I’ve seen beneath the self-centered and arrogant fa?ade, the parts of him that I’m almost certain no one else has seen and all that it means. I don’t want to think about the fact that I know that his life isn’t perfect, that although our lives couldn’t be more different, he understands the loss and sorrow that’s plagued me for almost my entire life. That he understands it only too well.
But I don’t stop her when she continues.
“Even Layla never really knew Raph. But then again, it was never like that between them.”
I clamp my mouth shut but the question comes out anyway.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not for me to tell you about Raph’s business. I can only tell you what I see—and I’ve never seen anyone get to Raph the way you do,” she replies.
“I mean, like back at the beginning of semester—I’ve never seen him actually hate someone. He normally just doesn’t give a shit.”
“So you’re saying that you’ve never seen Raph hate someone as much as he hated me?” I say flatly. “Gee, thanks. That’s good to know.”
Keller rolls her eyes.
“No, I mean I’ve never seen someone get under Raph’s skin the way you do,” she says.
“Whether it’s hating you for blowing up his ride...” she laughs and I can’t help but laugh with her at the memory.
We stop in front of her motorbike and her grey eyes turn somber.
“... or whether it’s something else …”
I say nothing as I take the spare helmet that she hands to me.
“But I get that it’s Raph, and nothing about that guy is simple,” she says.
“So, just be careful,” she adds.
I nod silently, but something inside me already knows that the warning has probably come too late.
That night, I lock my bedroom door, although that foolish part of me waits to hear the sound of knocking. It never comes.
I tell myself that I should be glad. That it’s the smartest thing I’ve done since that night that Raph asked me to stay. But I don’t think I sleep a wink that night and the feeling like my chest is being shredded to pieces doesn’t go away.
“But you said that you were coming,” Dani’s voice pleads from the earpiece of my cell.
“I know I did, but I changed my mind,” I reply, as I stare up at my bedroom ceiling.
It’s two hours until kick off of tonight’s soccer match and I’m still firmly refusing to leave my room.
“Does this have anything to do with the way that you and Raph have been avoiding each other all day?”
I feel a pang in my chest at the reminder of the look on Raph’s face when he walked into first period trigonometry earlier. He wouldn’t even look at me. As if the sight of me alone was an unwelcome reminder of that mistake.
Unsurprisingly, he didn’t show at Dani’s and my lunch table and when I saw him in the hallway after classes, he turned and went the other way as soon as he saw me. As if he couldn’t get far enough away. I tell myself that I should be glad, but still, I can’t deny that I felt it like a knife to the chest.
Dani sighs then, interpreting my silence correctly.
“Look, whatever’s happened between you two, if you don’t show up to tonight’s game, it’ll look like you’re letting him get to you—and I know how much you’d hate that.”
Her words aren’t wrong, but I don’t think I can stand the sight of Raph right now without doing something stupid or embarrassing, like trying to kiss him again. For real this time. I stamp down on the traitorous thought. I remind myself that I should be thankful because this was exactly the sort of thing that I needed to avoid. I remind myself that not too long ago, I hated Raph, hated him with a ferocity which was beyond reason. What in the world would possess me to want to kiss him or to feel that stabbing in my chest, when he acted like he’d been burned by that almost kiss.
This is a mistake. His words play themselves over in my mind and I tell myself that he’s right—it was a mistake. Letting him draw me in was a mistake, letting him gain my trust was a mistake. Because Dani hadn’t been wrong when she told me that getting in with the Dynasty heirs was a dangerous game and no one came out unscathed. It’s good that this happened now because god only knows what would’ve happened if he’d actually kissed me.
Raph swore to me once that he’d break me if I didn’t stay away. I realize now how true that promise was, because I know deep down, that Raph St. Tristan does indeed have the ability to break me. But I won’t let him. I’ve lost too much already.
“He sort of kissed me, Dan,” I say finally.
I can hear Dani’s responding gasp down the line.
“What do you mean sort of?” she asks, once she gets over her initial shock.
“It wasn’t really a kiss, more like lip brushing,” I say, trying to find the right words.
“Lip brushing?” Dani repeats, incredulously.
“Like when two lips touch? That’s called a kiss,” she says flatly and I almost want to laugh, if it wasn’t so tragic.
“Okay, so you … lip-brushed. That’s great, right? I mean this is Raph St. Tristan we’re talking about. Every girl at Regency wants to lip-brush with this guy.”
“Yeah, except he acted like he was horrified and then told me it was a mistake.” I feel my voice waver as I say it out loud and I hate myself for it.
I love Dani, though, because as much as she seems to like Raph and has clearly been rooting for him, she goes into loyal friend mode almost instantly.
“Well, screw him. Who does he think he is? Raph St. Tristan is a loser.
“Okay, maybe not a loser because that would be impossible. But still, if he wants to act like an asshole, then he sure as hell doesn’t deserve you.”
“Thanks, Dan,” I reply, smiling despite myself.
“I mean I told you before that you’re like the hottest girl in Regency right now. You can have anyone you want.”
I don’t agree with her, but I keep listening.
“So, tonight, you’re going to go to that soccer game, act like you don’t give a shit about Raph St. Tristan and then go to the beach party after and enjoy yourself,” she says.
“Screw Raph St. Tristan,” she adds.
I agree with those last words. Screw Raph. It was a mistake. Fine. I can agree with that and tonight I’m going to show the asshole that I won’t be making the same mistake again.
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