Playing Heart Games

Level 11: Learn How To Be A Rebel

VIOLET

You need to learn how to be a rebel.

I gnawed on my fifteenth cookie. What did he mean, learn how to be a rebel?

I'd thought it over since he'd dropped me off at the house but I still had no idea what he was planning.

Instead of thinking about it, I tried to focus my attention on my homework. I gave up a few seconds later. I pushed my notebook aside, pulling my laptop across the kitchen island towards me.

I glanced around, then opened up Google and typed in Axel Ryder.

The house was silent. Mom and Ken wouldn't return from their honeymoon for a few more weeks. Which meant I was spending my evening alone, doing my homework in Ken's giant kitchen.

I still wasn't quite used to the house. At mom and I's apartment, the kitchen and living room had been one room. Doors led off into our bedrooms and the one bathroom. It was rarely silent, and the walls were thin enough to hear whatever our neighbours were watching on tv.

And now we lived here—in this huge chasm of silence.

My chest tightened. It had barely been a few days since she'd gone but I missed mom. If she'd been here, maybe I could have told her about Mark. She would know exactly what to say.

I shook the thought away. No, mom deserved a break. She deserved her happily ever after. And telling her that my new stepsister and my boyfriend had been together behind my back? That would put a crack in the perfect family she finally had.

I refocused on the computer screen.

Five minutes later, I had confirmed that Axel Ryder was my complete opposite.

A few moments on the internet and I'd discovered that his father owned about a billion corporations, that Axel had a thing for parties, and he had more Facebook friends than people I'd met in real life.

He was also very popular with girls.

I shut the laptop, releasing a breath.

Honestly, what was I doing? Revenge? It was so completely alien to anything I would usually do. And yet here I was. Playing this silly game of payback.

My shoulders slumped. I should stop. The mature thing would be to come to terms with everything that had happened. To focus on school.

And that's what I needed to tell Axel.

The sound of footsteps made me look up.

Alissa strode into the kitchen.

I froze. She crossed the marble tiles towards the fridge, ignoring me.

Even at home she looked perfect. Pink, lace trim, silk shorts and a matching camisole revealed endless perfectly toned limbs and a lean stomach. Her hair fell in golden-brown waves and her skin was flawless.

A jagged knife of envy sliced through my stomach.

Was that why Mark chose her? Because she was beautiful?

Usually, at this point, I would say hello out of politeness, even if she ignored me. But I couldn't make my lips form the word.

How long have you and Mark been meeting behind my back?

Doing something she rarely did when no one else was around, she glanced at me.

For a moment, my breath paused. Waiting.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. Then she turned, retrieving a smoothie from the fridge and leaving the kitchen.

There was no guilt.