Feuds Read online

  Davis wanted to crawl back under her covers and sleep forever. She wanted to skip right past this unbearable thing her life had become and move forward to some future, better time. The fact that she was even having these thoughts at all freaked her out a little. It was all within her control; it had to be. She’d been perfect before, and she could have it all back if she worked hard enough and focused and wiped her mind clean of the past week. It was all Cole. The kiss on the roof had been … it had been ecstasy. And that simple fact made her stomach twist in horror. His body pressing against her, feeling like its rough edges and soft spots were produced specifically for hers—all of that, it was an illusion. A sick, twisted lie. His skin against hers, the way his hands cradled her face so carefully. The way he’d whispered that he’d take care of her—she’d believed it all. She’d fallen for it, and she’d fallen for him, and now she had to face it: he had betrayed her, played her, used her.

  A single clear thought found its way into her head, giving her something to focus on beyond the pain in her limbs: she had to turn Cole in. She didn’t have a choice. She was jeopardizing everything—her reputation, her father’s campaign—if she didn’t. Because if she didn’t and someone found out, she’d seem complicit. Her life would be over.

  Davis showered quickly, indulging for only the briefest minute in the soothing feeling of the water pelting down on her aching shoulders. She threw on a pair of jeans and a button-down, feeling energized from her resolve. She sprayed her face with the barest mist of tinted sunscreen and swiped on a thin coating of lipstick. Her hand trembled a little, but that was just from her exhaustion; it had to be. She switched on her vitals monitor then—she tried to remember to get a read at least once per week, but it had been a while. She centered her body in front of the tablet, so the device could get an accurate reading. Maybe she wasn’t eating enough. The machine would tell her which nutrient supplements to load up on. The machine emanated a shifting red beam that scanned twice over the length of her body. Then the red light disappeared and a soft thrumming sound indicated that her report was about to be generated.

  Just then, the intercom blared to life from the bedroom. Davis heard the squeal of Fia’s tinny, little-girl voice blaring out of it; she hit cancel on the report and moved quickly into the bedroom to see what her sister wanted.

  “They’re, like, almost gone,” Fia was saying. “Davissss. Daaaaaavis. Hurry up!” Davis rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling a little; Fia was so bubbly and full of life. No matter what else was going on, she never failed to make Davis feel a little lighter.

  “Hold one hostage for me,” she said into the device. “I’ll be right there.” Davis smoothed her shirt with her hands and took a few steadying breaths. Seeing Fia and her father would calm her. It would make her feel more like herself. Confessing would relieve the enormous burden she was carrying, wrap her back in the safety of their protective net. She would do it.

  She glanced at the vitals monitor, wondering if she should generate a new report. She hesitated, about to step back on—but pulled back. Davis dashed out of her bedroom, heading toward the sound of voices coming from the living room. She was almost to the threshold when Frank materialized, blocking the only entrance to the room with his hulking frame.

  “I don’t have time, Frank,” she hissed under her breath. “I need to talk to my dad.”

  “Your dad’s busy,” Frank told her. “He’s in a meeting.”

  “He’s always in a meeting,” Davis snapped. “He can take two minutes to talk to me.” She shoved into Frank, harder than she meant to, and he moved out of her way, looking surprised. Davis stepped into the living room. There was her dad with a camera crew and … was that Wes Hollinder of the Hollinder Hour? It was. Davis felt her heart sink; the Hollinder Hour was one of the most watched programs in all of New Atlantic. Apparently she was interrupting something big, after all.

  “Dad?” Davis said, taking in the scene. Her face flushed as three sets of eyes—the cameraman’s, her father’s, and Wes Hollinder’s—turned to meet her own. Her dad stopped in midsentence and the cameraman yelled, “Cut.” Then her father moved toward her, and a look of concern passed over his features.

  “Davis, sweetheart,” he started. “Is everything okay? Didn’t Frank tell you we were in here?”

  “He did,” Davis said, her heart hammering. “I’m sorry. We can talk later.” She backed out of the room and hurried into the hall, shaking.

  “Davis, wait,” her father called after her. “Just a second,” she heard him tell the other two men. “This won’t take long.” He met her in the hallway, his brow furrowed. “Honey,” he said. “What is it? You look upset.” Davis stopped, surprised that he’d hit pause on what was apparently a huge interview to listen to what she had to say.

  “You’d talk now?” she asked. “In the middle of an interview?”

  “Of course,” her dad replied. “If it’s important. You must know by now that you’re my first priority.” Davis’s heart swelled and she struggled to blink back tears. Her dad truly loved her; that much was clear, despite the campaign and everything else going on. He loved her, and she knew in that instant that she couldn’t bear to let him down. There was no way she could tell him about Cole and devastate a career he’d been building as long as she could remember. She saw that now. He tried, he really did. It couldn’t have been easy. She had to support him—she couldn’t ruin his life. She wouldn’t come clean. Instead, she’d pretend Cole had never existed. She’d return to her normal life, to being the perfect daughter she’d always been before. She had no choice.

  “Mr. Morrow?” The cameraman poked his head out from the living room. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir, but I wanted to remind you that we’re on a tight schedule. Mr. Hollinder is putting in an appearance at a charity event in just over an hour.”

  “Just give me a minute,” her father told the cameraman. “I’m with my daughter.” The cameraman nodded, looking uncertain, and retreated back to the living room.

  “Davis, you’re shaking.” Her dad put his arms around her, trying to draw her close. She shrugged him off.

  “No,” she said, backing away. “I’m totally fine, Dad.” She pasted a smile on her face, hoping it looked natural. “I’m so sorry to interrupt you. Really. I was just a little stressed about dance,” she said, fumbling for an excuse, “but I never would have gone in there if I’d known you were in the middle of an interview. Frank just said it was a meeting. I should have known better—I’m sorry.”

  He held her eyes with his own, his brow furrowed. She maintained her smile, waiting for him to continue. He ran a palm over his jawline, which was freshly shaven for the interview. “I checked in on you around noon and you were asleep,” her dad said. “I know how much strain you’ve been under with the Olympiads coming up. I was happy to see you get some rest, noodle.”

  “Noodle? Seriously Dad, you haven’t called me that in forever.” She frowned at him, pretending to be annoyed, though the use of her old nickname almost made her cry, it was so sweet. “And I did get some rest,” she assured him. “I’m fine now, I swear. You should get back in there.” For some reason, though, her dad wasn’t leaving. It made her feel even guiltier to know that he would take time out of this important interview to talk to her, even though she really didn’t have anything to talk about—at least as far as he was concerned.

  Her father sighed and rubbed his temples, and the gesture made him look somehow older. For the first time, Davis noticed a few gray streaks in his sideburns, and she wondered when they had appeared. He’d never looked anything but distinguished and handsome to her; she so rarely saw him with his guard down. “The thing is, honey,” he continued, “you’re always in the spotlight. Everyone’s following your Olympiads progress. I know how hard it’s been for you. And I want you to know that you make me incredibly proud. I couldn’t be prouder. You’ve already helped me so much during this election. It hasn’t been easy on you—or Terri, or your sister. I�
��m aware of that. And I’m so grateful to you for being the way you are.”

  So much of her had wanted to tell him the truth only moments before. She had badly wanted to be relieved of the burden, to have someone else handle it for her. But she knew she never could. Even the knowledge that she’d done something that could potentially hurt her father threatened to rip her apart. Even if he never found out—and he couldn’t—she’d always know. She’d always carry that burden. The only way out of this was to return to as normal a life as possible, as quickly as possible.

  “Come here,” her dad said, pulling her into a bear hug. “What is it, Davis? Is it really just practice that’s bothering you?”

  She shook her head quickly, pulling away. “I’m fine. Really. Really, Dad. Just get back to the interview. Time is money, right?” She smiled again. “I’m late for meeting Vera, anyway. That’s where I was headed before—I was on my way out.” The second she said it, she was glad she had. Seeing Vera—hearing her gossip and helping her weave elaborate braids through Davis’s dark hair and brainstorming Vera prospects for the orchestra—all those normal things they always did together were the quickest way to feel normal again, she was sure of it. It was what she needed more than anything just then, she realized. Even thinking about it lifted her, just a little.

  “I’ll see you later on, okay?” she persisted.

  “Okay,” he told her. “Don’t stay out too late.”

  “I won’t.”

  Her dad moved back in the direction of the living room, then paused, one hand resting on the doorframe. “Davis?” he called after her.

  “Yeah?”

  “I meant what I said about being proud of you before. I couldn’t wish for a better daughter.” The pang that crept up her chest was almost as crushing as the one she’d felt at Cole’s betrayal.

  It was only when she was well outside, halfway to Vera’s, that she remembered Fia and the cookies. She massaged her temples, suddenly feeling even more stressed. It had been so long since she’d spent time with her little sister. She’d make it up to Fia later. Later, always later. But she would, she swore it. She pulled up her tablet keypad and typed out a quick message to her sister.

  “Sorry, Fi-Fi,” she wrote, adding in a wink face to show she was teasing—Fia hated that particular derivation of her nickname—“Didn’t mean to skip out on cookies. Let’s do something just you and me this wknd? Froyo and park? Love you. xo.” She hoped mentioning the park would show Fia she really was sorry … that she meant it. Froyo at the park downtown had been their tradition when Fia was really little. Davis wasn’t sure when it had stopped, but she made a firm resolution to bring it back. Davis made the promise and put it out of her mind, eager to get as far from home as she could.

  * * *

  Five hours and countless wardrobe options later, she and Vera were on their way to the House of Mirrors. Davis’s pulse was in her ears; she was high on the adrenaline of anticipation, glad to be out with her friend. This was what she needed to distract her from the turbulence that had marred the rest of her life lately.

  “I’m so glad you suggested this,” she remarked as they climbed aboard the monorail, sliding easily through security and past its chrome doors. Prior volunteers had replaced the Imp workers on strike, so the monorails were running again.

  “Duh,” Vera replied easily. “Don’t you remember talking about it last week? I also left you like four messages about it. Here, try these ones. The brown doesn’t stand out enough against your hair.” Vera removed a dangly earring from her own ear and pressed it into Davis’s hand as the monorail whizzed past the East Sector toward the House of Mirrors. “You’re sure you still want to go?” Vera’s eyes were bright with concern. She would never pry, always wait until Davis was ready; it was the way she’d always been.

  Davis offered her what she hoped was a reassuring smile, nodding. She rested her head on her best friend’s shoulder, trying not to look out the window or think of what stretched beyond. What she’d seen earlier had started to feel like a distant memory, and she wanted it to stay that way. Instead, she focused on the earring: the feeling of its sharp prong in her palm, the flash of sparkle from the rhinestones. Normal images. Images that would repeat themselves in the form of dancing and music and everything she knew and loved, all through the rest of the night, until what she’d seen before faded entirely.

  The club was in a totally sketchy industrial district in a gutted-out factory that had, in old-time Columbus, supposedly been used to manufacture steel. But Davis loved it. It was safely nestled far away from the Slants, and it bordered the river where there were no neighborhoods, just wilderness. Typically that kind of wild inspired fear in her, but for some reason this patch of the city was beautiful—at least from where she sat in her sanitized, Prior-designated monorail car. Its fields stretched for what seemed like eternity, and at this hour of the night, the stars twinkled patterns that weren’t too dissimilar from Vera’s gold silk top. Davis absently took the earrings from her friend and swapped them out with the gold and tiger’s-eye pair she’d been wearing. Her whole outfit—the sequined minidress and razor-sharp, strappy stilettos—screamed “Vera,” with its obvious glamour. It was a far cry from the understated, sleek looks Davis usually favored. That was because she’d run out of her apartment totally underdressed and unprepared for the House of Mirrors. Anyway, it was nice to wear something un-Davis for a change. Maybe it could help her leave all the other parts of her life behind, at least for the night. For Vera’s part, it was hard not to notice how petite she was in her own black patent pumps, tiny leather shorts, and gold halter. She made up for her diminutive size with bold apparel.

  “No one’s going to care what’s in your ears,” Oscar said in a bored tone from where he sat next to Vera. He cocked his chin, revealing lazy blue eyes from under the shock of blond hair that was perpetually crossing his forehead. “We care what’s here,” he said, brushing one hand against the side of Vera’s chest, “… and here.” He finished by moving it down to her butt. Vera swatted his hand away and rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t be crude,” she told him, looking annoyed. “Sorry,” she mouthed at Davis.

  Davis smile gratefully … Oscar could be tough to be around, and tonight she wasn’t in the mood. Vera seemed to understand that intuitively. Davis blinked back the emotion welling within her. Thank God Vera was around; the Olympiads and PAs might have distracted them, taking the focus away from their friendship for a while … but that was the beauty of a friend like Vera. When someone’s known you your whole life, the bond was strong enough to withstand just about anything.

  Oscar pawed at Vera next to her, and for a second, Davis’s thoughts flashed to Cole’s face, and his hands. The way he’d touched her had never seemed anything but caring. Sexy, yes. But in a very good way, a way that made her feel like he’d only ever touch her like that.

  Then again, Cole was a lie. Vera and Oscar were not.

  Vera squinted out into the night as the monorail pulled into the platform. “Why are so many people walking back this way?” she wondered aloud. “It’s super early still.”

  “Maybe the band sucks,” Oscar offered.

  Vera giggled and punched Oscar in the arm.

  “Doubtful.” Vera linked arms with Davis and pulled her in the direction of the club. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, so only Davis could hear her. “Tonight will cheer you up.”

  Davis forced a smile and gripped her friend’s arm tighter. She missed Vera. She missed the closeness they used to have, the way they used to stay up all night talking. She missed the million times as kids they’d snuck snacks from the pantry at Vera’s house in the middle of the night, and played MASH until the early hours of the morning, giggling, legs intertwined at the ankle. And the times later, as they started to grow up: sneaking into movies without paying by flirting their way past the ticket guy; then later, Davis sitting in the front row of Vera’s cello competitions, biting her nails to the quick as Vera made it
into the final rounds—and crying actual tears of joy when her friend won first place, moving into the top echelon of young cellists in the Columbus orchestra. She needed this night with her friend. She needed her old life back.

  The closer they got to the club, the more obvious it was that something was up. Throngs of kids their age were exiting instead of entering, and doormen were standing in front of the sliding doors, which were usually drawn apart by now for the opening acts. Oscar grabbed one of the kids’ arms, stopping him as he walked past.

  “Hey man, what’s the deal?” he asked.

  “Show’s off,” the kid said, shaking his head. “Hope you didn’t buy your ticket in advance, dude. They’re not doing refunds.”

  “Off? Why?” Vera’s brow was furrowed, her pretty hair highlighting her look of confusion. “It’s been set for months.”

  “One of the drummers never showed up,” the kid said with a shrug. “They had to cancel the whole thing.”

  “Oh no,” Vera said. “What are we supposed to do now? We’re way out of the city.”

  “I know a place,” Oscar told them. “It’s just one stop back toward the city on the monorail. It’s a divey kind of place. I’ve been there with the guys. Our IDs should work just fine.”

  “Great!” Vera clapped her hands, grinning at Davis. “You on board?”

  “Sure.” Davis tried to match her enthusiasm, but she sounded a little down in the dumps even to her.

  “Cheer up,” Oscar said, slinging one arm around her shoulders and the other around Vera. “I don’t know what’s up your ass, but I’m a happy guy tonight. Cheap booze, two hot girls…”

  “Shut up, dirtbag,” Vera told him, swatting his shoulder, but she was laughing as she said it, and even Davis felt a small swell of affection toward Oscar. He’d been a part of her life for years … almost as much as Vera had. They’d known him forever, even before he and Vera had started dating. He was a constant in her life, and although he could be super annoying, Davis liked how loyal he was to Vera. She liked the consistency of the three of them together.