Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
The Crimson campus looks good like this, when the sky is grey and the stone buildings look a little bit gothic.
Some people probably hate it, but I love a grim-looking day.
Makes me feel alive.
Everything makes me feel alive, when I can run like this.
After a while, Niko starts telling me about some light Onyx House gossip. It’s nothing that Kieran would be rabid for, but instead more about hookups and parties.
When the conversation turns to Weston, my curiosity is piqued.
“Feel bad for the guy sometimes, honestly,” Niko says as we run down the path that cuts through the quad. “Seemed like his dad always treated him like dirt, then he went and died. All while his best friend starts fucking his brother.”
“His dad was also your dad,” I remind him.
He waves a hand through the air. “I know, but not really. I literally never met the man. I was his rejected bastard son.”
I hum. “Do you think Weston was jealous of his brother? When Hunter and Rayne started hooking up?”
“I get the impression he’s always been a little jealous of his brother. They get along now, but that definitely wasn’t always the case.”
I listen to the sound of our footfalls for a while. Once we’re out of the busy part of campus, we take a ridge along a hill on the south side.
The air is fresh, and the buds on the trees are slowly getting greener, even if today is gloomy.
“Still don’t understand why Wes has to act so intense all the fucking time,” I say. “Even when his phone was vibrating on the table last night, he treated it like a goddamn bomb.”
He cuts me a glance. “He doesn’t like getting texts.”
“What’s the big deal?”
Niko lets out a long breath. “Sev, I’m going to tell you something, but don't repeat this, okay?”
Nice.
Secrets.
Fucking tell me everything, please. Not for Kieran, but for me.
“What is it?”
Niko slows to a stop, pausing at the edge of a flowerbed and looking at me, catching his breath.
“Weston had a really fucked up childhood. He kind of kept it secret for a while, apparently, but after a night drinking with Noah a few weeks ago, he… let a lot of it slip to me and Ollie.”
I frown. “How fucked up?”
“His dad was abusive. Physically, verbally. If Wes even got a B instead of an A in school, his dad would hurt him. After a while he started only hurting Wes, never his brother.”
“Holy shit.”
Niko nods. “Apparently there was some bad shit at school, too. Weston was bullied, but he never did anything about it because he was afraid of what his dad would say. He told some story about a kid pushing him off the top of a tall playground set.”
My chest goes stony.
Niko’s giving me a sympathetic look, now, because he knows that I was treated horribly in elementary school, too.
By the time high school rolled around, I had switched schools and become the resident rebel, and everyone in my new school system respected me. I sold cigarettes like a delinquent out behind the art building, and kids wanted to get in fights with me, like a badge of honor.
But when I was younger, it was a different story.
I know exactly how it feels to be the outcast like that.
I clear my throat, still catching my breath. “Didn’t know that happened to Wes.”
“Me either, until recently. He definitely doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“He’s still infuriating. But that’s horrifying, what he went through.”
“Do you know the full story of what happened last semester, too?”
“Weren’t those attacks on his brother?”
Niko shakes his head. “Both of them, at the end. Weston almost got shot, too. Not just Hunter.”
“Holy fucking shit.”
I had heard about the bad stuff that went down at Onyx last semester, but with my leg injuries, I was holed up at the hospital the day it went down, then recovering at my mom’s house for a week after. I got the gist of the story later on, but never knew how deeply involved Wes was.
“No doubt in my mind Wes has to have some level of trauma from it. It’s sad. He said he hates sleeping alone because he thinks someone’s going to get into his room and hurt him.”
“Another person who doesn’t realize how much better it is to be alone,” I say.
He lifts an eyebrow. “Sev.”
“Fine. I understand. I can understand why he feels that way.”
Niko sighs. “All I’m saying is… give him a little leeway.”
We start up our jog again, looping around the stone buildings on the south side of campus. The clouds start to blow past, and for a brief moment the sun casts bright pillars of light between every tree.
Feeling empathetic with Wes is unfamiliar.
I don’t like it.
It’s like I’m suddenly wearing a strange coat that fits all wrong.
But there are three-dimensional facets of Weston that I never knew were there.