COMPLEMENTARY [GxG]

Chapter 26 | Drawing Blood

The following day, for the first time in two weeks, I see Eris.

Every time I go to school, I mentally prepare myself for the possibility of confronting her again, but I've grown so used to her absence I'm completely thrown off, breath caught in my lungs, all sound drowned out by my heartbeat ringing through my skull.

She's trimmed her hair. The uneven black spikes are now a short, trendy shoulder-length bob, with her blonde highlights touched up and vibrant. I've been meaning to talk to her. Warn her the police suspicious of her so we can get our story straight and tell them the same thing in case they interview her, too. I should want her to crash and burn, but if she falls, nothing stops me from following after.

And before I can think of what to say, I'm already storming toward her, needing her in my grip before she slithers away. For once, she's alone in the parking lot, and I come up behind her and wrap my hand around the back of her neck, the contact overwhelming my senses as her contagion courses through my blood.

"We need to talk," I say. "Privately."

"Nice to see you too, baby," she says, as if our rivalry is still the petty teenage animosity it was before and not something that could put us both in prison. I dig my fingernails into her skin, every rational thought dissipating, replaced by the rage I've kept under tight control since learning of her betrayal.

My hand on her neck, I drag her away from the crowd of high schoolers toward the side of the school where we won't be seen.

And then we're staring at each other. I'm used to the initial hit of adrenaline her sudden appearances always produce in me, but today, it's not fading. She's forcing her gaze to be neutral in all the ways I'm failing to be.

"Well?" I ask impatiently. "My name is in the news, every journalist in San Diego is losing their minds over why my painting was found heading into Tijuana with a Vermeer and a Manet, and just yesterday I had to give my testimony to the police. But enough about me. How are you, Eris? Chopping up any more fingers as of late?"

She gives me a low, disdainful little laugh, reaching for a hit of her vape pen. She makes no effort to blow the cloud away from me, and that's it. I lose it. I shove her until she stumbles backward, her vape flying out of her hand, her elbows scraping against the asphalt as she falls.

"Really, bitch?" she asks. "You know first period starts in, like, ten minutes? Wouldn't want the princesita to be late for class."

"You had your father sell my painting without my permission," I snap. "You've ignored me for two weeks while the police is actively investigating my family, and now you just show up as if you're not actively ruining my life?"

"You think my dad sold the painting?" she laughs, leaning back on her bloody elbows, staring up at me without the slightest care in the world. "Nah, pendeja. That was all me."

"All you," I repeat. My voice comes out hoarse and silent. I needed to believe it was Iker. I needed to believe she wasn't fully to blame, because the alternative would send me spiraling. And here I am, my hands starting to shake, spiraling.

"You broke your end of the deal," she explains. "You didn't finish paying me back. You know we don't work like that, princesita."

"I trusted you," I say, even though what I mean is I kissed you, but admitting it out loud will only make me remember her warmth, the vulnerability in her eyes I thought would be enough to prevent her from cutting this deep.

"When did I ever give you a reason to trust me?" she asks, echoing the same words I told her weeks ago in the aftermath of my snitching to William. I'm as stupid as she is for taking me to L.A. Because I trusted her with my painting, making the same mistake.