HEART BREAK ON SILENT ICE

Chapter 4: Dangerous Secrets

LEAH

My knuckles were white on the steering wheel the whole drive back to campus. My piece-of-crap Honda sputtered at every stoplight like a destroyed toy car.

What the hell was I thinking? Making out with Maxon? In his parents' mansion, of all places? Like his penthouse near campus wouldn't have been private enough? No no no…I shouldn't have touched him, it doesn't matter if we were in his parents' house or his own. F*ck! I messed up.

My sweater was still inside out. I couldn't even fix it because then I'd have to pull over, and pulling over meant time to think, and thinking was the absolute last thing I wanted to do right now.

Maxon Shivanski. Raya's boyfriend. My ex-childhood friend turned hockey god. Had his hands on me. His mouth on me. And I liked it. More than liked it. I'm going to hell. Dad's been right all along. Lord, have mercy!

The campus security guard waved me through the gate without looking up from his magazine. Must be nice, not recognize sin when it drives past.

My dorm loomed ahead, all brick and judgment. I'd told Dad I was heading back early to finish a paper. Not a total lie. I did have a paper. I also had plans to let my best friend's boyfriend get to second base, apparently.

And then there were those adults I nearly crashed into on my way out. Mr. Shivanski looked weirdly flushed, adjusting his tie. Mrs. Williams smoothed her hair.

Probably just had some heated argument about business or whatever rich people discuss. Not that I cared enough to wonder why they both looked so startled to see me. I had bigger problems.

Rich people and their complicated lives. Dad would have a field day with this moral failure buffet. I fumbled with my key card three times before the door clicked open. Four flights of stairs because the elevator was perpetually broken. Just like my moral compass.

My room was exactly as I'd left it that morning. Bed half-made. Books everywhere. Remnants of last night's ramen on the desk. I dropped my backpack and collapsed face-first onto my bed.

"What is wrong with you?" I mumbled into my pillow. I needed to write this down. Process it. My diary is the only thing keeping me sane these days.

I rolled over and reached for my bedside drawer. The bottom one, under my winter sweaters, where no one would look.

Empty. I blinked. Reached deeper. Nothing but wool and mothballs.

My heart skipped while I yanked the drawer all the way out. Dumped the sweaters. Nothing. No. No no no.

I tore through my desk drawers. My closet. Under the bed. Behind the bookshelf where it might have fallen.

Nothing.

My diary was gone. Three years of secrets. Including everything about Raya and Ron. About my feelings for Maxon. About every private thought I'd never say out loud. Someone had my diary. Someone knew everything.

*****

I shouldn't have come. Ron's birthday party was the literal last place I wanted to be after everything. Raya's text guilt-tripped me into it: Please? I need someone normal there. Everyone's being weird tonight. Normal. Right. That's me.

My hands shook while putting on mascara. Ugh. Like makeup would help anything.

Ron's penthouse is beautiful and has a clear view of the city below. There are bartenders mixing actual cocktails, music booming so loud I partially lost my ability to hear for a while.

I spotted them immediately. Ron by the bar, watching me with this smirk that made my skin crawl. Raya holding court on a white leather couch. And Maxon—s**t, Maxon—leaning against a wall, eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on me.

My diary. The thought hit me like a punch. What if someone here had it? What if they were reading my secrets right now?

Raya glided over, champagne in hand. "You came!" Her smile seemed forced. "Cute top." Target?"

"Thrift store, actually."

Her nose wrinkled slightly. Behind her, Maxon started moving toward us but Ron intercepted him, hand on his shoulder, whispering something to him.

"We need to talk," I said to Raya. "Privately."

Her smile froze. "About what?"

"You know exactly what."

Within seconds, Raya yanked me into a bedroom and kicked the door shut. The bass thumped through the walls so hard I felt it in my chest.

"What?" She crossed her arms, tapping one perfect stiletto.

"You and Ron." I forced the words out. "What the hell?"

She rolled her eyes and plopped onto the bed. "So you saw us." What’s the big deal?"

"Big deal? You're dating Maxon!"

"God, you're so naive." She mutters while checking her reflection on her phone. People hook up, Leah. It happens."

"With his teammate and your cousin? With Ron?"

"What I do with my body isn't your business." She looked up, all smiles gone, eyes suddenly razor sharp. "Unless you're jealous?"

Screeching I mutter. "He deserves to know." Something dangerous flashed across her face as she stood. "Look at yourself." Her finger poked my hip. "You really think he’ll believe you over me. You are nobody?"

The words hit harder than she knew. "You're nothing but my fat little project. My good deed." Her smile was all teeth. "Stay in your lane, church girl."

"Were we ever friends," I whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. "Were we ever?"

"Friends don't want what the other has. And you've always wanted what's mine."

I stumbled out of Ron's bedroom, Raya's words cutting deeper with every step. The party blurred around me, faces, music, laughter all swirling together like I was underwater.

Someone tried to hand me a drink. Someone else called my name. I pushed through bodies that felt too close, too warm, too everything until I spotted a hallway and practically ran for it.

The bathroom door was cracked open. I slammed it shut behind me, twisted the lock, and finally—finally—let myself break. The sob that tore from my throat didn't even sound human. I slid down the wall until I hit a cold tile, hugging my knees to my chest like I could somehow hold myself together when everything was falling apart.

Ten years of friendship. Ten years of standing in Raya's shadow, grateful for scraps of her attention, believing she actually cared. What a joke. What a stupid, pathetic joke.

The tears came hot and fast, mascara running down my cheeks in black rivers. I didn't bother wiping them away. Just rocked back and forth, crying so hard I could barely breathe.

My phone buzzed against my hip. Then again. And again. I finally pulled it out with shaking hands. Three texts from Maxon: Where are you? Saw you come in. Need to talk about earlier. Are you okay?

The sight of his name made fresh tears spill. What would he think if he knew about my diary? All those private thoughts about him. About us. About dreams, I'd never admitted to anyone. And now someone has them. Someone knew everything.

The sink dripped. Someone pounded on the door. The bass from the music vibrated through the floor, up my spine, into my skull where it pounded in time with my heartbeat.

I couldn't stay here forever, hiding in a bathroom while Raya played queen bee, while Ron smirked, while Maxon wondered where I'd disappeared to.

I hauled myself up and faced the mirror. Mascara streaked. Eyes puffy. Hair a mess. The perfect poster child for a girl who just found out she means nothing. I splashed cold water on my face and tried to fix what couldn't be fixed.

Maxon deserved to know everything. About Ron. About Raya. About all of it. No more secrets. No more hiding.

I opened the door and nearly crashed into a guy I didn't recognize. Tall. Glasses. Nice smile. "Are you okay?" he asked, voice gentle. "You look like you could use this." He held out a glass. "Just water with lime. Promise. Help after crying."

My throat was raw from sobbing. I'd never seen him before, but his eyes seemed kind behind those glasses. Maybe the universe was finally giving me a break.

"Thanks," I said, taking a sip. "Who are…?"And within seconds the room tilted sideways. Colors blurred. Sounds stretched in slow motion. While I tried rubbing my eyes to clear my vision…..oh god! Something was very, very wrong.

The room spun like a carnival ride. Colors smeared together, faces stretching into grotesque masks.

"Whoa there."

The stranger's arm wrapped around my waist. His voice echoed weirdly in my ears. My legs wouldn't work right. My tongue felt three sizes too big for my mouth. "Let's get you some air." He was steering me somewhere, through crowds that parted like water. I couldn't remember his name. Had he told me his name?

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I couldn't reach it. My fingers were numb. "Almost there." The elevator buttons glowed too bright. We were going. In my daze, I realized we were going up. Cold air hit my face. Stars wheeled overhead, too close, too bright. We were on the roof. Why were we on the roof?

"Beautiful view." He growled, while I tried to turn around, but my body wouldn't listen.

"You shouldn't have seen them." His hand was on my back, firm and unyielding. Who was he talking about?

The railing pressed against my stomach. The city spread out below in a dizzying carpet of lights and stars.

"Nothing personal." His voice was the last thing I heard before I felt the wind rushing past my ears, my arms and legs flaring like a dismantled toy.

Someone screamed from somewhere, probably a woman. It was high and terrifying while other voices joined in, a horrified chorus growing fainter as I fell.

I could hear someone calling my name, or maybe I heard wrong. But the last thing I remembered and felt was the sickening crunch of my own body hitting concrete with unbearable pain before everything went silent and still.