



CHAPTER 5
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Queens Arrows and my dad were good friends, as Queens had emulated much of the community work my dad had done over the years. Dad was deep into the art world, had many galleries and his charitable efforts far exceeded the most charitable man. My father and my parents in general loved helping others, and that had not gone unnoticed by the papers. Queens was one of the first Dad called to take photos for events he put together, and the papers loved splashing what he did for others on their front pages.
Mackenzie was seeing that now, that connection. Dad held Queens's hand before he hugged him. My dad and I were very similar. At least, physically. Dad was slightly taller and broader, but our facial features resembled way more than my mom and me. My twin, Fin, looked more like my mother, but where the resemblance went elsewhere, my sister took more after my dad. They both shared a kindness about them and a general forgiving nature.
Yeah, she was more like him.
I smiled to see Dad and Queens together. Queens had Dad's arm supported.
"Speak of the devil," Queens told Dad. "Your morning meeting go okay?
This was another nod to my dad. He’d been cutting checks all morning. He and my mom donated a ton of shit to this university. Dad was actually in town today to do that, which was how Queens had collided with the pair of us this morning in the first place. And of course, we’d made that lunch date.
And what a coincidence that all just so happened to be on the same day Queens had his meeting with Arizen, happenstance a wild thing, crazy…
I observed Ms. Lanka, as Dad and Queens talked. The two were occupied, and I took the initiative to fill the void.
She looked, her head tilting way, way up. I had over a foot on her like I did on most people, and she wasn't short, average. Her freckled jaw worked a little. "You know Queens Arrows."
She had the same freckles on her lips, and I only noticed because she wasn't wearing any makeup. Again, she'd been trying to be a chameleon today. Her lips had been bloodred the time I'd last seen her, this girl faker than shit. My eyes narrowed. "He and Dad are old friends."
"Old friends?"
"Yeah." I lifted my head about the time something sweet touched my nose, sugar or honey or something. I didn't care for whatever it was. I wet my lips. "He's done a lot of events my dad's done. Charity work." I looked at the two of them. "We all bumped into each other on campus this morning. Dad's here to donate money to the school."
She looked at them too, and I watched as an apparent jump hit her throat. I wondered if I'd feel her pulse if I caught it, squeezed…
This was probably a sick thought, but at that moment, I did not care. This girl had crossed me, and this is where we were now in the middle of it.
And he donates money because you go to school here," she said, putting two and two together. Smart. She bit her freckled lip. "We both go to school here."
We do, little red. I leaned forward. "Fancy that.
"Yeah, fancy." She looked me over, a full tilt down my face and along my shoulders. I stood a foot from this girl, and she didn't step back. As already stated, ballsy… She folded her arms. "Too much to hope for an olive branch?"
Intrigued, I cocked my head, and she lifted her eyes.
"For the pictures and all that. The media coverage?" She shrugged. "I can see how it sucked, but I didn't do it maliciously or anything. I saw a story, and I took it."
She really was cold this one, heartless.
A little fucking opportunist.
She was lucky I didn't care about it, over it. The school had decided to make an example out of me that year, which was the only reason I’d lost football my junior year. I’d been a minor, and since that asswipe with the bottle had technically struck first, he couldn’t press charges. He had actually faced charges for assaulting me, and my family had made sure of that. They'd made everything vanish, and the football business could have been the same if my parents hadn't backed the school up in the decision. They'd attempted to teach me a lesson, and even though yeah, that crap fucking sucked, I was through with it.
I had more ambitious plans on Arizen, my face nonchalant to her proposal. "You want to forgive and forget?" I queried, leaning deeper into her personal space. "A peaceful truce."
If we could, yeah." A rasp crept into her voice, one darker and grittier than her already sultry voice. Am I getting to you, Arizen? Her eyebrows narrowed. "We're adults. We can act like it. Not to mention, this was three years ago. Now, I'm not saying you should just forget it, but—
"No, you're right," I told her, surprise lifting her eyebrow. I nodded. "Absolutely right. It all should be water under the bridge, and I'm not even playing football anymore anyway."
"You're not?"
"No, I'm not." I waved that aside, as Queens and Dad joined us. "Like I said, water under the bridge."
I did not have the chance to see how that comment landed on her face, for Dad and Queens broke in when they entered our section. Queens introduced Mackenzie to Dad as one of his internship applicants, and Mackenzie was a different person as she reached out to shake my father's hand. She was obviously aware by now of my family's connection to this place and Queens Arrows, and the earlier intimidation on her face disappeared. She opened up in front of me and my father, and that sick thrill was back. She was letting her guard down, her sins forgiven, and forgotten.
Round one, I guess, was mine.