Crown of Thorns by E.M. Snow

5

I thinkabout Phoenix Townsend all the way home.

The way he looked at me. The words he said. It’s all haunting me and not even listening to music is enough to exorcise him from my head. So many emotions pour through me—fury and disgust and something else I can’t quite pinpoint—that I can’t seem to focus on anything else. Even my worry for Jasper has taken a back seat to Phoenix.

As far as I’m concerned, the king of Thornwood is the scum of the earth.

Before, I only thought he was a dick. A mean, entitled prick who used his wealth and good looks to bully his way through life. Now, I’m sure I hate him. I really need to talk to Margaret and convince her this fucker isn’t worth her time. We need to stay as far away from him as humanly possible. People like Phoenix—people that dark and venomous—they only ever try to drag others into their darkness with them.

As I climb out of the van, I acknowledge that my frustration is a waste of time. He’ll forget my name by tomorrow, and he likely hasn’t even thought about me since class. I got our assignment done and handed it in just before the bell rang, with no help from Phoenix, though I didn’t dare say a word to Mrs. De León. By the time I turned back to my desk, he had already slithered from the classroom.

I take a small amount of comfort in the realization that I won’t cross his mind again. It allows me to push all thoughts of him aside so I can focus on the things that are actually important in my life right now.

Like my brother.

When I reach the front door of the house, I square my shoulders as I unlock the door because I know I’ll have to confront him again. He needs to explain what the hell is going on with him, and I refuse to let him dodge me this time. I’m sure he’ll resort to emotional manipulation, but I’m prepared for that. Hell, after my encounter with Phoenix, I’m ready for the argument that’s bound to happen. Either Jasper tells me the truth, or he gets the hell out of Nina’s house. I don’t need him around if he’s going to drag dangerous bullshit along with him and not even tell me what I should be watching out for.

I’ve got myself all fired up now, which is probably a good thing after the way he walked all over me this morning.

Throwing open the door, I step into the living room and shout, “Ghost, where are you?” Because if he’s going to act like this, I’m going to call him by that shifty-ass nickname. “We need to talk.”

I’m met with total silence. My stomach twists with familiar anxiety as I call out for him again. “Are you here?”

Nothing but the buzz of the window AC greets me.

Dropping my backpack to the floor, I rush through the house to his room. The door is wide open, which isn’t a good sign. I look inside, and sure enough, some of his stuff is missing.

Jasper isn’t here.

He’s left … again.

Motherfucker.

The tears in my eyes take me by surprise. I’m supposed to be used to this by now. I expect this from Jasper and figured he’d be gone days ago. So why the hell does it still hurt so bad?

Gulping down the lump in the back of my throat, I back away from his bedroom and stumble toward the kitchen. The house feels like it’s echoing around me, it seems so empty. When I cross the threshold, I gaze around absently, and my eyes fall on a small black jewelry box on the counter. Pressing my palms to my eyes, I cross the room and grab it. When I open it, I find a pair of rose earrings inside, tiny stones I’m assuming are cubic zirconia set throughout the delicate floral pattern.

I release a disappointed sigh and shut the box, closing my fist around it. Typical Jasper. Whenever he fucked up in the past, he’d given Nina and I gifts in a shitty attempt to make up for his mistakes. Jewelry, clothes, a new TV—Jasper’s brought everything.

“Fuck you and your gifts, Jasper,” I say on a shattered breath.

Abandoning the earrings on the counter, I turn and trudge to my room to do my homework. If I get it done fast, I’ll have plenty of time to visit Nina. Because the loneliness of the empty house is mocking me, and I’m not sure I want to stick around any longer than I have to.

When I wake up the next morning, the reality sets in that I’m alone again, and I lay in my bed and stare up at a water stain on the ceiling. I consider faking sick, but that would just mean I’ll be stuck by myself in this house all day. That seems much worse than actually going to school, so I force myself out of bed and get ready for my run.

I go an extra mile, pushing myself so that I’m exhausted all through school.

Just as I figured, Phoenix doesn’t even glance my way in Spanish. Instead, he sits in stony silence, clenching and unclenching his jaw and hands and burning a hole in the whiteboard with his intense green stare. The only time he speaks is at the end of class—to some other genetically superior boy with a mess of strawberry blond hair—and that’s only to snarl, “I’m aware, Easton.”

To my relief, I realize I don’t care enough to wonder what he means.

When I stumble on them arguing in hushed voices in the hallway after class, though, I pause. Try to read their lips like a stalker. The conversation ends with Phoenix jabbing his fingers against the other guy’s chest before he stalks in the opposite direction. My direction. Our gazes connect, brown versus green, and he slows his pace.

He shoots me an icy smile that I feel in my very core. “Señorita Luna,” he drawls, pure venom dripping off my last name.

I twist away from him quickly, racing past the other boy who’s still staring after Phoenix like he’d screwed his sister.

Or his mother.

Which is probably the reason behind their argument because it’s so very … Phoenix.

Still, since Reina’d pointed out that I’m tragically uniformed, on the way home I glance through Thornhaven’s digital yearbook from last year until I find the guy Phoenix was arguing with—Easton. His last name is Madigan. I don’t need much a dossier on him because even I’ve heard of Peter Madigan, his father. The man’s made some of the worst movies I’ve seen in my entire life. He’s also worth billions.

I scroll to the Sports & Extracurriculars section and discover that Easton headed Thornhaven’s archery team last year. Of course, I lose interest in the whole damn yearbook a couple pages later when I spot Phoenix’s dark, tousled hair and chiseled jawline. He was captain of the wrestling team and the track team, so every photo captures him dripping with sweat, his face flushed and a cocky grin playing on his lips.

Why does it feel like he’s mocking me in every picture?

And why does he have to look so epic while he’s doing it?

My breath catches at that thought because he’s not epic. He’s the epitome of trash, I mentally scold myself. Enough said.

“Screw him,” I mutter out loud and put my earbuds in, refusing to waste another second of my life on Phoenix Townsend.

That’s why things feel almost normal again when I climb out of bed the next morning. Thursday. The universe has officially reset itself and all is as it should be again.

Once I’m showered and dressed, I head into the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast. My steps come to a halt when I spot the jewelry box sitting on the countertop, and I glare at it for several beats before finally letting out a heavy sigh and stalking over to it. Picking up the box, I open it and study the earrings.

They really are pretty, intricate. Like tiny gold, shimmering roses.

It’s clear Jasper is gone, and I probably won’t see him for another six months at least. I might as well take full advantage of something new and pretty, even if they don’t make up for his absence. Pulling the earrings from the box, I put them in my ears as I check the time. Then I get a granola bar from the pantry and my bookbag and race out the door.

I try not to think about my brother and where he might have run off to this time.