Chapter 1
904 Words
“Mummy! Mummy!”
Jason ran into the living room, his eyes wet, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
“Damien won’t let me play with his toy.”
Their mother came down the stairs slowly, one hand on the railing. She stopped at the bottom step when she saw them.
Damien stood a few feet away, the toy pressed against his chest with both arms.
“You can’t have this one.” His voice was quiet. “It’s the only one I have left.”
“But I want it,” Jason said, his lower lip pushing out.
“Damien.”
He looked up at her.
“Give your brother the toy.”
His arms tightened around it. “But Mom, he already has all my other toys. This is the only one I still have.”
She crossed the room and crouched in front of him, her knees cracking softly.
“Are you still a child? You’re eleven. Stop acting like a toddler.”
He looked down at the toy, not at her.
“But—”
“No.”
She reached out and lifted his chin with two fingers.
“Jason is your younger brother. He has a weak heart. Do you want to make him sick over a toy?”
Damien shook his head.
“I can’t hear you.”
“No, Mom.” His voice cracked on the second word.
Her hand moved from his chin to his shoulder, resting there.
“You’re the older one. You take care of him. You don’t make things harder for him.”
She squeezed his shoulder once.
“You remember what the doctor said.”
He nodded, eyes still down.
“You’ll have the company one day. He won’t have that. Let him have the toy.”
Damien stood there a moment longer, arms still wrapped around it. Then he walked across the room and held it out to Jason.
Jason grabbed it with both hands and smiled, already turning it over to examine it.
Damien didn’t wait to see more. He turned and went up the stairs two at a time, his footsteps fading down the hall. A door closed, quiet, not slammed.
He sat down on the floor beside his bed and pulled his knees to his chest, chin resting on them, staring at nothing.
**Seven Years Later**
The Lamborghini’s engine cut out in the parking lot of Newstar Academy, and heads turned before the doors even opened.
Jason stepped out first, one hand raking through his hair, brown strands falling loosely over his forehead. Damien followed, adjusting his bag over one shoulder, gray eyes moving briefly over the crowd before settling ahead. Behind them, the school’s iron gates stood open, the name NEWSTAR ACADEMY worked into the metal above in tall black letters, the kind of place with a waiting list longer than its enrollment.
“The Yates brothers,” someone murmured near the fence.
They crossed the lot without slowing down.
Jason glanced sideways at his brother. “You should date one of them.”
“Why?” Damien didn’t look at him.
“You’re older than me. I’ve had more girlfriends than you.”
Damien’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “I’ve had a girlfriend.”
“If you mean Janet, she doesn’t count.” Jason grinned. “She liked me more.”
They reached their lockers. Damien pulled his open, dropped his bag inside, and shut it with a bang that made a nearby student flinch.
“I could introduce you to someone,” Jason said, leaning against the lockers.
“I’m not interested.”
“You already like someone.”
“There’s no one.”
Damien turned to walk away. Jason grabbed his shoulder before he’d gone three steps.
“Tell me who—”
Damien had stopped moving. His eyes were fixed somewhere down the hall.
Jason followed the line of his gaze.
A girl walked toward them, dark hair falling in loose waves past her shoulders, her steps unhurried. She wasn’t looking at anyone, wasn’t trying to be looked at, but the hallway had gone a little quieter anyway.
“So that’s her.” Jason’s voice dropped, closer to his brother’s ear. “Not bad.”
Damien blinked and stepped back slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve got taste.” Jason was already smiling.
“There’s no one.” Damien’s jaw tightened. He looked at his brother directly. “Whatever you’re planning. Don’t.”
Jason raised both hands, palms out. “I’m not planning anything.”
Damien held his eyes a second longer, then walked off down the hall.
Jason watched him go, then turned back toward the girl, already disappearing into a classroom. He followed, hands in his pockets, and stepped through the door a moment after her.
His own seat was two rows back. He took the empty one next to her instead.
“Hi.”
She turned, one eyebrow raised slightly, checking if he meant her.
“Hi.” A small wave, fingers barely lifting off the desk.
“Jason Yates.” He held out a hand.
She glanced at it, then shook it briefly. “I know.”
He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Of course you do.”
“I’m Jennie.”
“Jennie.” He said it slowly, like testing the shape of it in his mouth.
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