3. Poppy Wells

3

Poppy Wells

M ondays were my least favorite day of the week because instead of just sneaking cash out of my purse or using our food budget, my mom straight up demanded I handed over the money she thought was hers, even though I busted my ass off working two jobs last week to secure it. Though, it only took both of my managers one week to realize who I was and not so subtly fire me because the position had been filled by a more suitable match.

I hated this town.

However, my mom surprised me this morning because not only did she take all the cash I got from my last week of work, she also took all the money from my purse too, and now I was standing in the queue to get my coffee and I didn’t have anything on me.

I groaned as I searched my back pockets for any loose coins.

It was pointless though; I didn’t have anything .

She took all of it.

I wasn’t even surprised anymore. That woman took and took from me until I had nothing left to give, and even if I was nothing but a pile of bones on the floor, she’d take those too thinking she could get something for them on the black market.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

My eyes shot up. A few seconds went by, and the barista’s polite smile started straining with impatience. Her eyes rolled as she popped a cherry-red sucker back into her mouth. I glanced down at the white name tag that read Indie in black cursive handwriting from a marker pen. Great . I was sure me and Indie were about to become best of friends.

“I’m sorry, I—” I started but I was cut off.

“She’ll have our usual,” the girl beside me said before turning to me, waiting for me to say something. I nodded, unsure how to respond. How did you even respond to that? Or was that just me being stupidly dumb in social situations once again?

As she turned back to Indie, her chestnut brown hair and cream-colored bow swayed with her, along with the light blue denim mini skirt she wore. A small white, lace tank top was mostly covered by a dark blue cardigan that hugged her frame with multiple sewn on silver stars and the words Good Riddance Tour cursively sewn across the sleeves.

“Oh, also could I have the team’s lunch order please?” she smiled before showing the barista what I presumed was a student ID of some kind attached to a light blue flowery lanyard.

“You got it, Lia.” Indie took the ID, scanned the barcode, and handed it back before disappearing out back.

From the lanyard alone, I knew she went to Hawthorne Hills High—also known as the high school from the other side of the train tracks . If you weren’t born into generations of old money or weren’t part of the tight inner circles of the rivaling mafia dynasties operating beneath the quiet, sleepy beach town pretense of Hawthorne Hills, you went there . Which was also exactly where my lonely ass ended up.

Another reason why this small town sucked.

If the state of the building itself didn’t communicate its lack of funding, the state and attitude of the students who attended it did. Hidden away on what used to be the main street but was now just considered the locals corner of town, Hawthorne Hills High’s rustic exterior looked like an extension of Oxford with its intrinsic brick work and large winding towers covered in vines of ivy and moss. A creaky iron gate surrounded the school making it look more like a prison made to keep students inside, and once neat hedgerows now sprouted from the ground in uneven patterns, clawing at the pavement.

Bright neon strikes of pink, and orange decorated the walls with nearly no brickwork left untouched, and there were a handful of windows that were either cracked or fully boarded up with wooden planks from students throwing bricks through the glass.

Before I moved away a few years ago, the principal got arrested for grooming underage students, but as always in this town, he was given a warning whilst the children he abused were never seen again. The police blamed their disappearance on drugs, suicide, depression—the usual teenage shit that labeled us as bad influencers.

All of the cases were shut the day they were opened and were now gathering dust on shelves that would never see daylight again.

It should’ve surprised me, it should’ve shocked me, but it didn’t. I always knew there was a whole other world existing within this town—one of old money and corruption. Of elites, and power, and mafia legacies. It was a world I would never be a part of, and I couldn’t figure out if that was a blessing or a curse.

On the surface, Hawthorne Hills may appear to be a small, sleepy coastal town on the coast of Oregon with natural roaming forests and crystal-clear glacial waters, but between the cracks of perfection lay a world more dangerous than could ever be imagined—one fueled by dynasties of hatred and rivalry stained with blooded hands and the taste of deception.

I had my suspicions, my instincts, but in the end, there was truly no point in playing a guessing game inside my head as it was never going to be something I would ever need to waste a thought about. Two separate worlds. Two sides of the train tracks.

And I would always only belong to one.

“Oh, by the way, E, we’ve ran out of sprinkles, so you’ll need to put those on the next shipment order. ”

The sound of Indie grumbling as she walked past another one of the cafes employees startled me from my thoughts. There was an unmistakable British accent tainting her words, and I wondered how I’d missed that small detail before.

“What do you mean we’ve ran out of sprinkles?” One of the blond-haired baristas squealed in horror before following Indie around the back.

The two of them completely contrasted each other like night and day. Where Indie’s sharp, east Asian features and midnight black hair was tied up with a pencil atop of her head, the blond barista, or E as Indie had called her, embodied the essence of Rapunzel with her light-golden waves that hung just below her hips, and the softness of her pale skin that was painted with freckles across the bridge of her nose.

Even their outfits were wholly opposite with Indie rocking a pair of low rise, black cargo pants that hugged her waist, and a Calvin Klein black sports bra with white elastic banding. It was partially covered by a dark throw over which looked as if it had been crocheted by hand. The other girl, however, was styling a white sundress, a golden necklace with a little bee charm that hung low around her neck, and multiple golden bracelets around her wrists.

I didn’t think I’d ever been in a cafe with such a relaxed dress code. It actually made the atmosphere much calmer and gentler, despite the rush of people trying to grab their morning coffees. It was apparently run by one of the local students that attended Hawthorne Hills Elite Academy, aka the high school where rich parents sent their troubled kids hoping it would straighten them out enough so they could take over the family business as soon as they graduate. The thought puzzled me as an Elite kid was the last person on earth I’d expect to run such a down-to-earth cafe.

“Oh, hey Xan,” Lia smiled, giving a small wave to a dark-haired guy who looked like he had been chiseled by the hands of Greek Gods.

No kidding, his hands were genuinely wrapped up with white tape like a ring fighter, and all he was wearing was a tightly fitted black tank top that left nothing to be imagined and a pair of dark swim shorts. Even his hair was neatly trimmed on the sides with a longer length on top that sort of curled before slicking against his forehead .

“Lia,” he grumbled, a slight Polish accent slipping through. Despite his cold demeanor, the corners of his lips quirked upwards as he approached her. Instead of standing next to her, however, he stayed a few paces behind her like a bodyguard or an overprotective sibling would.

“You wouldn’t be here for say a particular blond-haired figure skater, would you?” Lia grinned widely up at him, teasing him from the way his eyes darkened. Was she referring to E? I really needed to start paying attention to people’s names in this town if I was going to be stuck here for another few years.

“No. I like the coffee,” he gritted out, eyes narrowed at the petite brunette who could not stop smiling at him.

“ Yeah ,” she drew out, “sure you do.”

“I do.” As he spoke that time, he unclipped the bow from her hair causing the top half of her hair that was held up by it to fall down her back.

“Xander!” Lia gasped as she realized what he had done and immediately pouted up at him. As she elbowed him in the side in a sisterly manner, Xander chuckled, shaking his head whilst he handed her back the bow.

Cheers suddenly erupted around the cafe as the ice hockey team made their way to the tables by the back wall, surrounded by tall, oak bookshelves filled completely to the brim. One of them I recognized as Benjamin Buckley, the town’s promising rising star and captain of the Hawthorne Hills Elite Academy ice hockey team. He was adored by the media and there was no doubt that he’d make the Oregon state college team next year.

Scouts were already looking at him due to his immense talent both on and off the ice, but I guess being the son of hotshot ice hockey legend Cade Buckley gave him one hell of a head start. There were countless clips of him online with his twin sister, Halle, and his youngest sister, Juniper—his family was a huge part of his image, and he had more than a million followers across all of his social media accounts that were full of pictures of him and his siblings doing fun trends and down to earth things.

Recognition sparked in Benjamin’s gaze as he looked past me and towards Lia. When she waved softly at him, it was all the invitation he seemed to need as he strolled over to where she and Xander stood. A navy-blue hockey jersey hugged his muscular frame, and a backwards cap covered his brown, shortened messy hair.

“Well, if it isn’t blueberry muffin girl!” he grinned, nudging Lia with his shoulder. She grinned up at him, completely swallowed by his tall frame, as the two of them dove straight into a conversation. I didn’t fail to notice how Xander eyed Benjamin as he talked with Lia, almost as if he was daring him to lay a hand on her just so he could beat the daylight out of him. I was gathering that he had that look on his face more often than not.

Just then Indie reappeared with my drink and a big brown paper bag, which I guessed was the team’s lunch order. For which team, though, I had no idea. Following shortly behind her, the blond-haired waitress reappeared with a silver tray topped with a handful of cups and small vanilla cupcakes. I finally caught the name on her nametag as she walked by, mentally noting that she was called Emmeline . I didn’t know how I’d missed that before as it was tagged right onto her pink apron and was written in what looked to be a sparkly pink gel pen of some sort.

Xander’s eyes slid almost immediately over towards her, utterly captivated by her movements, though I couldn’t tell if he was bored or inspired. The thin line of his lips wasn’t giving much indication.

Strolling over towards the counter, he innocently nudged her shoulder with his, sending her crashing to the floor. Cups smashed and coffee spilled all over the wooden floorboards as she tried her hardest to gather everything back onto the tray quickly as if she believed she was a nuisance to everyone else by just being there.

“ Xander !” Lia gasped, stepping between him and the waitress. “What are you doing?” She turned around and immediately dropped to her knees to help the girl clean up. “I am so sorry for this, I swear he didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled but there was a saddened element to it, something I couldn’t quite place. “Accidents happen, don’t worry about it, sweetie.”

Lia apologized profusely, regardless of what the other girl just told her, helping her up from the floor and handing her fragmented pieces of what used to be a coffee cup. “Still, are you sure there is nothing else we can do?”

“It’s fine, honestly, don’t worry about it! ”

“You!” Indie yelled just as Emmeline had finished talking. She made a headline straight towards Xander, jabbing her finger against his chest as she snarled, “Fuck off, Hawthorne, or I swear to the heavens I will knee you in the balls so hard you’ll see fucking stars .”

“Inds, it’s fine, truly. I’m okay,” the other girl was quick to say, trying to calm her friend down.

“Still, E, he can’t keep getting away with this shit!”

Xander smirked at her comment, utterly amused by the chaos.

Though, Lia was quick to snatch the team’s lunch order from Indie’s hand, and before I could register what was happening, she was already walking out of the cafe, arm looped around Xander’s, almost dragging him out of the shop and away from Emmeline.

I hadn’t missed much about Hawthorne Hills, but I certainly hadn’t missed that.

The drama .

I hated how observant I was when I wanted nothing to do with any of what just went down, and I hated how quickly I could pick up on other people’s emotions before they even showed on their faces. It was a trauma response, and I knew it.

I hated it, and I hated my parents for being the reason I had it.

Grabbing my coffee off the counter, I hurried out the doors.

“Hey, wait up,” I called out to Lia, patting her on the shoulder when I caught up, “Why did you do that? I can pay for my own drinks, I don’t need any charity.”

Her blue eyes met mine and I didn’t think I’d ever met someone who had eyes that looked like hers—it was as if they were kissed by the ocean.

“Oh, that? Aw lovely, don’t worry about it,” she said, a cheery expression covered her face, “we look after each other here and I noticed you looking for cash, so I thought I’d help.”

I pressed my lips shut.

We look after each other here.

Bullshit .

The only people this town looked after was themselves.

“Right…well let me pay you back tomorrow, where can I find you?” I asked. There was no way I was accepting free charity fr om that girl. If I wasn’t careful, she’d tell one person, and the next thing you knew, the entire town knew—and that was not an option, it couldn’t be.

They couldn’t know how bad it had gotten.

“Oh, honestly don’t worry about it,” she smiled.

“ Please .”

She must have acknowledged that this wasn’t something I was going to brush off.

“The ice hockey team is throwing a first day of summer break party tomorrow, and like always they’re trying to out-do our team by throwing them on the exact same day as us but they never manage to. You’d think with two of the players being heirs of the Sokolov Lotosovyy they’d put up a decent fight. It’s honestly embarrassing for them, and Jakson always goes all out for them too, so it’s not even a competition at this point…sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Xander questioned, but the way his whiskey-colored eyes stared into mine made it more of a statement, almost like he was forcing the words down my throat.

I nodded, my lips pressing into a thin line.

“Good. Carry on, Lia.”

“I’ll be at Jakson’s,” she smiled shyly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Great . Not only did I now have to figure out how to pay her back, but I also had to attend a party hosted by a guy I didn’t even know. Not to mention a party was the last place I wanted to be tomorrow, especially after what my mom had done this morning.

“Oh, and I’m Lia by the way. It was nice to see you again, Poppy!” she said before walking away, dragging Xander along with her. His eyes remained latched onto mine for a second too long before he nodded subtly and turned his attention back to Lia. Being under his observation felt like a specimen under a microscope—like he could see every dark, fractured secret of mine and couldn’t decide what to do with the information.

It was nice to see you again.

Lia knew me.

I shook my head; she couldn’t know me. Anyone in this town who had heard of me, or my mother to be precise, stayed at least fifteen feet away from us—people talked about me, not to me. I couldn’t even remember the last time someone in this town actually talked to me about something other than what happened all those years ago, and even when they did, it was always hateful.

Always designed to make me want to leave and never come back.

I guess they succeeded in a way…but I was back now and I wouldn’t let anyone push me away again. Not until I’d secured a surfing scholarship for Hawthorne Hills Elite Academy this summer. Then, I’d claw my way through final year until I could escape this town once and for all.

Out of reach from them all.

Out of reach from my own mother.