9. Maddison

Maddison

D reams are funny. My aunt once told me that the images and scenes that flood our dreamland give us insight into hidden parts of our psyche. If that’s the case, then I’ve got some dark shit locked up there. Because my dreams are filled with me running through the woods, with cloaked people chasing me, carrying bows and arrows, one of which gets shot through my chest.

When I wake up, I’m drenched in sweat, and my chest actually aches.

I blame the nightmare on the Everford name and its possible connection to me.

River said this family was hunted. I don’t know how, but apparently, my brain attempted to come up with an idea once it hit the REM cycle.

I exhale shakily as I sit up in the bed and drag my fingers through my hair. I need answers before I go crazy. I check the time on the clock and shock whips through me. It’s six o’clock in the damn morning. That means I slept for like fifteen hours. That’s crazy. But I do feel rested.

I stretch and yawn before climbing out of bed. I want to take a shower, but I don’t have any clothes. I hate the idea of waking River up. Then again, he does wake up early sometimes.

I pad over to the door, open it, and stick my head out into the hallway, only to nearly piss my pants.

River is standing on the other side with his hand lifted, as if he’s about to knock. He startles, as well, his hand falling to his side as he blinks.

“Shit, you scared me.”

“Vice versa, dude.” I press my hand to my chest where my heart is racing. “I was just going to see if you were awake.” I discreetly eye him over. He’s wearing jeans, a blue shirt, and Converse, so he’s definitely not going for a run, which is good since he got hurt the other day.

“I was doing the same thing with you. Did you sleep well? I’m guessing so since I haven’t seen you for like fifteen hours.”

“Yeah, I crashed hard. I feel rested, too, and my head is clearer.”

“That’s good. I wanted to see if you were up for getting some breakfast and then going to the library so we can try to find out more about the Everfords.”

I pull the door all the way open, aware that he subtly checks me out. “I’m down for that, but I need to talk to my mom later tonight … Did they for sure cancel classes today?”

He nods, sweeping his fingers through his hair. “And tomorrow, too.”

I grimace. “I think I’m going to have to raid my old bedroom and see if I’ve got any clothes lying around. I know you said Lily could lend me some, but we’re not the same size.”

“Actually, Lily has a bunch of extra clothes that designers have given her,” he explains. “She told me some of them aren’t her size but might fit you.”

“Why did they give her clothes if they weren’t her size?” I ask, placing my hand on the door jamb.

“To wear them to events. They send them to her, hoping she’ll wear them, but they don’t always send the right size.” He holds up a finger. “She gave them to me last night, but I didn’t want to wake you up, so I put them in my room … Hold on.” He heads to his bedroom, steps inside and, a moment later, returns with a handful of clothes. They’re on hangers and most are covered with plastic. He steps past me and into the room, where he places them on the bed. “There are shoes, too. Why don’t you look through this while I go get them?”

I head to the bed as he walks out of the room again. I begin rummaging through the clothes. I expect them to be Lily’s style, but weirdly, they match my own—wide-legged jeans, crop tops, and lots and lots of black fabric.

“Anything work?” River asks as he enters the room with a stack of shoe boxes.

I grab a pair of jeans and a crop top with a heart on it. “Yeah, but why are all these clothes my style?”

“Because Lily intentionally picked out stuff she thought you’d like.” He sets the shoe box down on the bed and sticks his hand into his pocket, removing what looks to be a small bag of makeup. “She’s good at that kind of stuff.”

I recall how she helped me pick out an outfit for my first day at the academy and how she did a great job.

“She is,” I agree, moving the makeup to the side and lifting the lid off the top box. Inside is the holy grail of shoes. “Red velvet boots? Oh my God.”

He chuckles. “I’m guessing you like them.”

“Um, yeah, they’re velvet boots.” I sigh, facing him. “I feel weird about this.”

“Don’t. They’re just going to end up at a donation center, anyway.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You should get dressed and get the boots on. I bet that’ll make you feel a tiny bit better.”

I narrow my eyes at him but smile. “I think you’re trying to play on my love for boots, but it’s working.” I grab the boots, makeup, and the outfit I picked out then head toward the bathroom but pause in the doorway. “Do I have time to shower?”

“Take as much time as you need, Maddy. We’re not on a schedule.” He smiles warmly at me.

And I don’t even bother acknowledging the butterflies in my stomach. I simply step into the bathroom, shut the door, and take a shower in the biggest shower I’ve ever seen. By the time I’m finished, I feel refreshed, I smell amazingly like sugar, my hair is soft as hell from the conditioner that was in there, and my skin is dewy and smooth from the scrub I used. I can’t allow myself to get used to this, though.

“It’s short term,” I say to myself as I take in my reflection.

I dig out some eyeliner to put on and some tinted lip gloss. I top the look off with mascara and call it good, leaving my damp hair down. When I exit the bathroom, River is sitting on the foot of the bed with a book in his hand. As I approach him, he scans up and down my body.

“Everything fit?” he asks.

“Yep. And while I feel like a total traitor to northside—which, FYI, I really don’t care—but anyway, I have to say that designer jeans feel so much better against my skin. The material is so soft.” I stop in front of him, and he angles his head back to look up at me. “What’re you reading?”

“A book I found in our library. I thought it might have some information that could be useful.”

“Did it?”

“Not really.” He closes the book, sets it on the bed, and stands up. “You ready?”

“Sure. How far is this place?” I ask. “Oh, and did Noah come by chance? I’d like to have my phone.”

“He showed up late last night,” he tells me as we start toward the door. “We can knock and see if he’s finished checking your phone for viruses. He showed up so late that no one really had time to talk to him. I think he’s avoiding.”

“Maybe he’s worried about telling you guys the truth. Like maybe it’s dangerous. The secret he’s keeping, I mean.”

His brows knit. “Why would you say that?”

I shrug. “It’s more common to me than the other way around.”

“Right.” He bobs his head up and down as he thinks about this. “Well, I hope he finally tells us. Even if it is dangerous, because I miss our friendship.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet.” I pinch his cheek.

He narrows his eyes at me, but it’s a playful gesture.

When we halt in front of a shut door, he knocks. Then he folds and unfolds his arms and fidgets with his watch band.

“You’re nervous,” I note, studying him closely.

“No,” he replies way too quickly.

“It’s okay if you are. You guys probably said and did some messed-up stuff to each other during your fight, right?” I wait for him to nod, which he reluctantly does. “Just say you’re sorry.”

“You say that like it’s that easy,” he murmurs, opening and flexing his hands.

I take his hand, attempting to comfort him. “It could be. Life’s too short to waste it on grudges, anyway.”

His gaze lowers to our interlocked fingers. “I guess I could do that.” His gaze meets mine and then falls to my lips.

Again, I think he might kiss me, and the frightening part is, I might let him. Fortunately, Noah opens the door. He looks sleepy, his eyes bloodshot, his hair a mess, and he’s wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.

“What time is it?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

River clutches onto my hand. “It’s pretty early … Sorry to wake you up, but we’re leaving, and Maddy wanted to see if you had her phone clear of any viruses so she can have it back.”

“Yeah, I finished it a few hours ago.” He leaves the door open and briefly disappears into his room before returning with my phone. “There were no virus on it or spyware, but I think they deleted a lot of stuff on it, like messages and stuff.”

“Awesome.” They probably deleted stuff from my aunt. I take the phone from him. “Thanks.”

“It’s not a big deal. It took an hour to do it. Plus, I kind of owe you for trying to help me,” Noah says with a dismissive shrug.

“I didn’t even succeed in that. And made the situation worse,” I grumble as I stuff the phone into the pocket of my jeans.

“She likes to blame herself a lot,” River explains to Noah. “And you’ll never convince her otherwise.”

“Hey,” I protest, lightly shoving him. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not right here.”

“Sorry,” River says, but with very little remorse. “But it’s true, and I wish it wasn’t.”

“He’s right,” Noah chimes in. “You do blame yourself a lot.”

“Well, at least you two agree about that. Although I’m not thrilled it’s on my part, but I’ll take it.” I flash them both a grin.

River glances at Noah who does the same thing.

“We should talk later,” River says to him while shifting his weight. “About some stuff.”

Noah rubs his cheek. “Okay.”

“Okay,” River agrees.

Silence stretches between us, and then Noah steps back, gripping the doorknob. “I’m going to go back to bed.” With that, he closes the door.

River blows out a breath., the tension in his body visibly relaxing. “That was so awkward.”

“Oh, for sure, but at least it’s progress.” I give his hand a squeeze. “Remember that?”

His smile is all sorts of sweetness. “You know, you could be a cheerleader.”

“Like a River cheerleader?”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I’m sure you do.”

He nudges me playfully with his shoulder as we start down the hallway. “Don’t worry; I can be your cheerleader, too.”

I feel lighter than I did last night, more clear-headed, and dare I say happy. But that makes me think of what happened with the society, and my mood plunges. He notices, his attention zeroed in on my downturned lips.

“Where’d your head just go?” he wonders as he collects his keyfob from a bowl that’s on a table near the elevator.

“I was just thinking about the society.” I daze off momentarily as images of tree branches and rain flood my vision.

Faint memories of that day, I think.

He pushes a code into the security box beside the elevator doors. “You know everything’s going to be fine with that. Now that you’re with me, and we passed their stupid initiation”—his jaw clenches—“they should leave you alone.”

“Maybe.” The doors glide open. “Why would they erase stuff on my phone?”

He steps onto the elevator, but I hesitate, taking a deep breath before entering. Outside of the window, I can see the view of the city, the towering building glittering against the rising sunlight that paints the morning sky with hints of dusty pink and glimmering orange.

“I’m not sure, but we’ll figure it out.” River holds my hands as the elevator starts to descend.

I stare out the window, thinking about all the weird shit that’s happened since I received that letter from the Royal Academy. The society came after me. I discovered I own a necklace that belonged to a deceased family. My aunt ghosted me but then sent me a strange message indicating people are after me. Then there was that wealthy man I met in the grocery store who knew my aunt.

“You know, it’d be a pretty view if it weren’t for the fact that we’re so high up,” I mumble as I stare out the window, gripping River’s hand too tightly.

He inches closer to me and slips his free arm around my back. “Just remember to breathe.”

I realize then that my breathing has become shallow, so I gradually inhale and exhale, attempting to steady it.

“River,” I say as reality slowly creeps up on me. “If by chance I’m an Everford, that means I’m going to be hunted, right?” When my gaze welds with his, he slips his arm up my back.

“Only if people find out.” He carries my gaze. “But I’m going to do everything I can to ensure they don’t. And if the society already knows, I will find a way for them to doubt their suspicions.”

I don’t ask him how he’s planning on doing that or remark on how implausible it sounds. I pathetically latch on to the hope that maybe he can follow through on his promise.

I usually don’t try to have hope.

But right, it might be all I have.