Though Deshawn wasn't truly there, he could touch and hold stuff from our world. Taron's weight was shared between the crazy girl and the ghost of his best friend but he had no idea. It was unsettling.
Together, the three of us walked through the front door where I was momentarily speechless at the interior. Just like every other Zobel boy house, it was large with winding staircases, expensive decorations, and designer wallpaper. The foyer alone was probably bigger than my whole house and led straight to the glass doors on the other side where more people danced in the garden. The smell of various alcoholic drinks and smoke clung to the air like a disease and groups of people came and went through.
Girls idled on the staircase, boys screamed from the pool outside and the music pierced my eardrums.
"So the obvious one would be his ex-girlfriend, Amalia Hadid. They were the most toxic couple I'd ever seen. I don't think they ever said one nice thing about one another, in private or in person. She cheated on him a few months before he died and they broke up because of that. It was a messy parting and he said a lot of dumb fucking shit about her when they finished. She was pissed and almost failed her exams because of it and the last thing I heard, her dad went around to Deshawn's house and told him to pack it in. He threatened Deshawn and at the time we thought it was the funniest fucking thing but I'm not sure anymore. Anyway, that's Amalia." Taron took his other hand and enclosed it over mine that rested on his chest. His fingers were long and bony, trapping me in place. "Then there's Marco Arandi
I stumbled around the home, avoiding friends and plunging into the unknown. I'd heard of these stories before. I knew about Amalia and Deshawn's relationship and how they'd walk into a party hand in hand but leave while screaming at each other. I saw Marco and Deshawn's friendship, two guys you either wanted to be or know. Then it all stopped and Deshawn died. I retreated to the foyer and wondered if they'd even turned up. If this party was for Deshawn, would they have risked it? Did their hate run that deep or was it a silly misunderstanding washed away by the seriousness of his death? If Deshawn hadn't have died, would they have made up? There were still so many people and I struggled to see above it all as my tiredness caught up with me. E
She blew out yet another sigh and stared at me. It was like something had finally clicked in her mind and her eyes hardened. It looked like she'd finally seen me for who I was."Reniella, you're lovely, honestly," she bit out. "I'm not sure if you've been told this before but you just have this vibe around you. You've got these eyes and this little smile that makes people feel like they should confess their entire life story to you. But I can't risk spilling any more secrets than necessary, I hope you understand."She brushed me off and turned to her friends.Without kicking up a fuss, I put the can back onto the kitchen island and stalk off. My eyes were heavy and I didn't feel like investigating anymore. I couldn't go upstairs to any of the rooms
"Reniella De Vega?" He sneered, looking down his long nose at me. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent and I was glad he had lost sleep over Ross's adventures. "Jesus, you two. Stand apart for Christ's sake, you look like lovers or something." The bitterness in his voice, I assumed, was directed towards me. It was probably because I was poor, far from perfect for his little boy. If I thought Zobel boys were all the same, their parents were even worse. Mr. Rivera had always been a grumpy bastard. "Get inside now. You better be quiet, I'm warning you. If you wake your mother up, I swear to God, Ross. You hear me, boy? We'll talk about this later." The big man hissed through clenched teeth. He placed a strong hand onto Ross's shoulder and with a swift push, he rushed his son into their home.
"I knew for a fact that Amalia and Marco had slept with each other because he was just as nervous as she was. He knew all the little secrets before I'd even said them aloud. While Amalia became quiet upon the release of her personal details, Marco was much the opposite. He came up to me, threatened me, pushed me. The Marco I saw that day was not my best friend. He was something else. Some white knight complex had taken over him, just another white boy trying to show off his new plaything. If he thought I'd do that to Amalia, he couldn't have known me all that well. I was just-" He cut himself off and lunged towards me before I could react. His hands found my cheeks where he cupped them roughly and my face was trapped in his grasp. His icy touch knocked the breath from my lungs and it felt as though I'd been knocked over by a car. My vision glazed over and all I could se
I gasped back to reality, plummeting from the dream world and returning to my body. Within my hysteria, I fell off the bed and landed in a pile on the floor where Deshawn once rested. Where was he? What was that?"Now you know why I hate Marco," Deshawn admitted. I saw that he was sitting on the edge of my bed, a longing look plastered to his face as he looked down on me but I knew he was thinking about his ex-best friend.Both of my wrists each had the name, Reniella De Vega written on it. Perfectly centered and readable, not dreaming."I need to talk to him then," I stated. Marco had an obvious dislike towards Deshawn, a dislike I needed to explore. 
"Now?" I asked quietly. My throat felt scratchy."Why not?""Because I know Ross, I've known him forever. It's weird."He shrugged.I stared at Deshawn for longer. The Zobel College uniform that he wore looked just as perfect now as when I first saw him. Freshly washed and perfectly pressed. He was the poster boy for Zobel College.I reluctantly rose from my huddle of blankets on the bed and to the wardrobe where I changed into my outfit of the day.Then, I grabbed my phone and left the house, making my way to the bus stop. I'd given the keys to Ross's brother's car back t
"Seriously, Ross? Weed? It's like 11 am," I asked incredulously. He chuckled before blowing the smoke out once again, attempting to make shapes with his mouth. "I'm only using up the last ones in the tray, don't worry about it, Bambi." "You're a mess." "I can quit," he snapped. "If I wanted to, I could stop it all. I just don't feel like it." I rolled my eyes and turned the newspaper page while smoke swirled in the air and mingled with the sweet sun glow. "I didn't say that," I mumbled.
"Need I remind you I have never done that before, so you don't have to worry, Marie." She rolls his eyes. My Aunt looks at him with a smirk before wiping the front and back of her wet hands on her red apron."Rather be safe than sorry," she sings as she grabs her white floral patterned tote back off the dining table. I walk over to stand beside my grandmother as I watch my aunt stuff her house keys in her bag before zipping it close."Oh, you still have that horrendously designed bag with the broken zipper?" My grandmother scoffs just by the sound of the zipper struggling to close as she flips another pancake on the pan.I burst out laughing when I see my Aunt's face. Her black curly hair tied into a bun keeping the tendrils out of her face yet she tries to place her baby hairs behind her ear. She grabs her bag with a scoff and gives me a small smile before heading towards the front door."Keep
INSECURITIES ARE what make humans imperfect and give them character. It makes people act out in ways they wouldn't have if they didn't have a feeling of anxiety, judgement and negative emotions attached to it.I know exactly what my insecurities are and even being self-aware doesn't change anything about it because I cant overcome them. It has become a part of me.As much as I hate my parents for everything they put everyone through, they did me well.As far as my skin was concerned, I was honestly blessed with the relatively clear caramel-coloured skin. Apart from some occasional acne that usually happened around the time of my periods, my skin was fine, probably because I was always diligent with the SPF and washing my face.Honestly, I wasn't the ugliest in the world, but nor did that make me a model either.When I used to go to school, my friend Raven used to alwa
"As if wolves would want you." I rolled my eyes. Playing along with what I knew he wanted.He was such an open book."Mhm, you want me," he teases as he raises his brows suggestively."Correction, jail wants you. Or Satan, or better yet, nobody!" I say sarcastically. I was a bit taken back by his teasing but I welcomed it. It was fun talking to someone other than my Aunt or grandmother. Its making me miss Raven so much."You break my heart," he says dramatically as he holds his hands on his chest over his heart."Yeah, I'm just doing what I do best,""Right..." he drawls as he rolls his eyes at my arrogance.He suddenly jogs so that he is in front of me, successfully catching me off guard. He then turns around and stops so that he is directly in front of me. I look at him in confusion.He takes
"I'm not your Sweetheart." I glared at him. "Okay, Sweetheart." And then I open my mouth to object but then he starts up again. "Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart," he taunted while smirking at me. "Leave me alone, posh boy." I groaned with a glare while trying to run away from him and behind Auntie Marie who I didn't realize had served herself some of my cake on one of the paper plates I had bought. I ignore Deshawn and watch as my aunt takes a spoonful of the cake and puts it in her mouth. Even Deshawn stopped annoying me and glanced between my aunt and me to observe my reaction to her trying my cake.
She was new here, I had nothing to fear. Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear... I was walking towards them with my grip on my baseball hat when I bumped into a hard chest. I yelped and tripped on the other person's foot, sending myself flying towards their chest. I made the mistake of letting go of my bag with the cake container and I could feel the sharp realization come across in panic as I just realized what I had done. I don't even look up to see who I had bumped into as I crouch down and peer inside the bag to see the smushed-up cake through the clear plastic top of the container. I mourn the destruct
"They have me, Jenkins, and his grandson. I think even Mrs. Halmshire's husband. Even on top of that, they hired like 5 men. Gloria came with a lot of cash. I'm surprised that she is moving into our town of all places. Yet again, everyone in this town is rich, it's just that we choose this lifestyle." Jenkins is like Aunt Marie. Not a member of the family by blood but still considered as family. My grandmother has so many children, nieces, and nephews from another family. She's friendly like that. "When did you get the time to meet them?" I ask curiously knowing that she didn't wake up until like 9 and it was almost 11. I didn't even see or hear her leave the house. "I woke up at 8 and Marie told me they lost a few trucks on their way to town and o
I examined my arm to make sure there were no marks and I was glad to see nothing. Suddenly I felt bad for the caterpillar. I look back to where I had seen it jump down and I tiptoe towards that spot in the grass. I look down only to see the caterpillar balancing itself on a blade of grass. Oh gosh. I didn't want it to die or anything so I looked around for a stick. I scanned the clearing and spotted a stick by the flat area in the center which was just meters away from the cliff. I smiled and ran over to the stick and came back for the caterpillar. I crouched down with the stick in my hands, trying to get the caterpillar to crawl onto the stick so I could mount it onto a tree where it wo
Maybe it was something in the air or something but I opened my mouth and almost made the mistake of talking. That was until he interrupted."You alright?" he questions. I'm momentarily stunned by the fact that he was talking and that he was talking to me.I felt betrayed for a second because it was as if his voice had broken something that we had an unspoken rule about:No talking.His voice was deep, husky, and a bit raspy, and I couldn't help but look up at him with big eyes, but he wasn't even looking at me."Yeah."
I shakily exhaled as my eyes dart from his body to my blanket. I tuck some loose strands of my dark hair behind my ear, feeling my heartbeat inside my chest. He was yet to notice me which calmed me because I seriously wasn't in the mood to converse with him. For some reason, I had a feeling he wasn't either. I could feel the sadness radiating off of him and I couldn't stop myself from thinking the wildest of thoughts: Maybe I should go ask him what's wrong. Nobody comes to The Edge; and if they somehow manage to, I don't think that it would be by chance. There was no way this guy who looks about my age walked into the forest looking for this place.