Page 74 of Toxic Kiss

Declan climbs in next.

“You good?”

“Sure,” I say, and look out the window.

The others follow. Eren, with his careful eyes. Ledger and Ash, murmuring low, while Vex pretends to scroll through his phone.

My mother gets in last and sits across from me beside Auguste. She crosses her ankles and adjusts her blazer as if it’s insulting her.

I’ve learned a lot over the last five years while Haven was away in New York. For starters, I never realized how much Haven protected me, even unintentionally. With Haven gone, my mother turned her insults and criticism on me.

It has become clear that no matter what I do, I’ll never be enough. Without the stardom, I’m not even sure if my mother loves me. Haven saying that Mom only sees me as a dollar sign, used to anger me, but not anymore.

I stare at the city as it blurs past and let my mind drift.

Ten Years Ago

The roof tiles are warm under my back, baked by the late afternoon sun. From up here, the neighborhood looks quiet and boring. Perfect.

I wedge my sneakers against the slope so I don’t slide and take a slow pull from the stupid vape one of the seniors sold me at school. It tastes like watermelon candy.

I cough anyway.

“Wow,” a voice says behind me. “Very rockstar of you.”

I twist around. Haven is climbing out of the dormer window like she’s done it a hundred times. Which, knowing her, she probably has. This was her room, but I wanted it, and my mother pestered Auguste enough that they made her move.

Her purple hair with the blue ends is tied up in a messy knot, and there’s a smudge of purple dye near her temple where it didn’t wash out properly. She plops down beside me on the roof.

“Who says you can join me?”

“Me,” she says, far too cheerily. She wipes her hands on her jeans, then leans back, sitting quietly.

“You’re going to fall,” I say.

“Why? Are you going to push me?”

I snort. “Don’t tempt me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

Haven’s quiet for a beat.

“I came out here all the time when I needed to escape.”

“What would you need to escape from?”

Her eyes are sad.

“When my mom was sick. It was nice to have a place that was all my own.”

A tiny thread of guilt travels up my spine.

I hold out the vape. “Want some?”

“You’re coughing like a dying goat. Why would I want any?”

“I wasn’t coughing.”