The secrets we bury

Fire and Fuel

Monday rolled around quicker than I expected.

The weekend haze hadn’t worn off, and I was still glowing from my not-so-innocent late-night activities. I stood in front of the mirror, brushing highlighter onto my cheekbones when my phone lit up.

Ethan:

Took the job. Can’t wait to tell you more. First day’s today.

A grin tugged at my lips. I typed back quickly.

Me:

Congrats. Still on for later?

Ethan:

Wouldn’t miss it. Have a great day, sweetie.

Sweetie.

That word danced around in my head like a forbidden song. I smiled like a goddamn i***t. For a moment, the chaos in my life faded into static. It was just me, my lip gloss, and a man I wasn’t supposed to want.

I finished getting ready — uniform flawless, skirt rolled just short enough to provoke whispers. The Graysons weren’t the only ones who knew how to make a scene.

My parents were gone again. Spain this time, I think? I lost track. It was always some deal, some investor, some excuse to abandon me in this castle of a house.

I didn’t mind. Their absence was my freedom.

I grabbed my bag and slid into my car, heading to Starbucks to meet the girls before school.

Starbucks.

We always claimed the same corner booth. The world felt smaller there — like nothing could touch us. Emma was sipping her usual caramel frappuccino, Averie was picking at a croissant she’d never finish, and Melanie sat nervously beside me, eyes wide, fingers twitching like she didn’t belong.

Because she didn’t. Not yet.

She was still in her trial phase.

“Melanie,” I said sweetly, stirring my iced coffee, “has anyone told you that you’ve been getting a lot of attention lately?”

Her face flushed immediately.

I loved that.

“Um… no?” she replied, voice barely above a whisper.

Emma smirked and leaned in. “Well, let’s just say a certain someone noticed you at the party.”

Melanie’s brows pulled together. “Who?”

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I let it hang.

Averie looked hesitant, eyes flicking to me like she was still unsure we should go through with it.

Emma didn’t wait.

“Thornton,” she said.

Melanie’s lips parted. Her face turned beet red. She blinked rapidly, then looked down at her drink like it suddenly became very interesting.

“He… noticed me?”

I gave her a knowing smile. “He asked about you. He thinks you’re sweet.”

She bit her lip, trying not to grin, but failing. That was all it took. One seed. One name. And she was hooked.

But what I wasn’t prepared for — the sharp, cold sting in my gut. It ripped through me before I could hide it. I sipped my coffee too fast, forcing a smile.

Emma caught it. Of course she did.

My phone buzzed in my lap.

Emma:

You sure you’re okay with this?

I glanced at her. She didn’t look up, just kept sipping, but I knew. She knew about me and Thornton. I told her everything — she was the only one who knew what he felt like between my legs, what he sounded like when he came.

I typed back slowly.

Me:

Not really. But it’s the means to an end.

Pause.

Me:

Besides… I’ve been talking to someone. Ethan.

He’s the perfect distraction.

She looked at me again — not judgmental, not smug — just aware.

Then she nodded.

We went back to our drinks like nothing had happened.

Melanie was still glowing at the thought of Thornton.

Averie said nothing, as usual.

And me?

I watched it all unfold from the center of my empire — feeling the burn of jealousy under my skin, the thrill of deceit rushing through my veins.

I was falling for one boy.

Selling another.

And controlling it all.

We got to school just before the bell.

The moment we stepped onto campus, Melody was waiting. Like a storm cloud ready to ruin a perfectly sunny day.

Her eyes were sharper than usual — narrow, defensive, mean.

“You really think you can steal my sister from me, you b***h?” she hissed.

Melanie stiffened beside me.

I opened my locker with a smile. “Melanie, sweetie, care to answer your sister?”

Melanie hesitated, but something changed in her. Something new.

“Mel,” Melody snapped, “what the hell is this?”

“I’m fine,” Melanie said, louder than I expected. “Why don’t you lay off Ava’s d**k, you act like you gave a f**k about me!”

Oop.

Even I was surprised.

Emma shot me a grin. Averie looked up for the first time that morning.

Melody’s mouth fell open. She blinked once, then twice, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You are so f*****g hilarious, you were warned Melanie, you think Ava gives a f**k about you. You just wait and see,” she snapped, turning on her heel and storming off.

We laughed. Loudly.

Melanie defending me?

My pieces were falling into place, slowly but surely.

First class of the day?

History.

Why? Who puts history at the top of a Monday morning?

We took our usual seats — my girls always close, always loyal. Melanie followed us like a shadow, notebook already out.

Then he walked in.

And my heart dropped.

Emma and I locked eyes.

Shit.

Why was Ethan walking into this classroom?

He moved to the board, grabbing a marker with shaky fingers. I tried to keep my composure, but I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The walls were closing in. His eyes scanned the room, then landed on me.

Frozen.

His mouth parted like he was about to speak, but nothing came out. We were statues — caught in the middle of a fire we both started.

Did one of my lies really catch up to me?

Had I been so sloppy as to never ask which school he was starting at?

Dammit, Ava.

He shook his head, looked down, then turned back to the class.

“My name is Ethan Conway,” he said, voice low. “I’ll be your substitute teacher for history this semester.”

I was going to throw up.

Without a word, I grabbed my bag and stormed out.

The hallway spun. I stumbled into the bathroom, threw cold water on my face, trying to breathe. My hands were shaking. My vision blurred.

Was this what a panic attack felt like?

Moments later, Emma, Averie, and Melanie burst in behind me.

“Ava, what the hell is going on?” Averie shouted.

I looked at Emma, then back to Averie.

“Ethan and I have been texting since Thornton’s party. I had no idea he’d be teaching here.”

Silence.

They all exchanged glances.

“f**k,” Averie muttered.

“s**t,” Emma whispered.

Melanie just blinked, lost as always.

I leaned over the sink, water dripping down my wrists.

What a tangled f*****g web indeed.