[old] hexes for exes, briarville girls (1)

七。冷戰

(cold war)

THEY DIDN'T GET OUT, which Livia found rather tragic as she fixed them with an acidic stare, and if looks could kill, James and Jack McHill might be nothing more than a pair of skeletons like Princes in the Tower. Instead, both boys gave her a blank stare, before James finally said, "And that, my dear Via, is exactly why we're here. Why do you hate us?"

"Are you dumb or deaf?" Livia retorted, her hands dropping to her waist as she looked around, praying to heaven or hell that her parents weren't within earshot. "Why are you in my house? Who invited you? Or have you gone from murderer to trespasser now?"

"I'm not a murderer," James snarled in response. "I don't know what kind of bullshit you've heard, but I am not responsible for Melody's death. Don't you think we're all sad she's gone? But none of us could have saved her, Livia, and it's time for you to accept that."

What did James know about accepting things? He was the reason Melody was there, the reason Melody had stormed out into that street in a fit of fury, with hatred on her mind and an urge to scream at the planet they lived on that confined them. What was on Melody's mind in that last few moments she was alive? Did she see the speeding car coming, Grim Reaper prepared to take her soul, or did it come to her as much as a surprise as the news had to Livia?

Jack cleared his throat. "As for your other question, your Mom let us in, Livia. Please chill. We didn't break in or anything. We're not criminals."

They might as well be. They were, in all but name. Livia had to bite back from screaming at her Mom for letting these bastards in. She never wanted to see their faces around her house again, which was rather hard considering they lived right down the street.

"Are you done? If you are, please leave my house and never come back. If you do, I'm afraid to say my fists are itching for something to punch, and the two of you would make a wonderful punching bag."

Blank stare, though James' had an underlying fire. As sweet and polite and passive he may act, James still was a warrior underneath who sought to defend the innocent. One of those classic, unrealistic knights-in-shining armour. Too bad Livia wasn't a damsel-in-distress (though she supposed he would have done a horrible job at saving her if she was, considering what happened to Melody. Oh, wonderful Melody, why did you have to go?)

And it's also sad that James McHill was not innocent. There were nights Livia wondered if it was really all the boy's fault, with his charm and charisma and sugar. Could he really have been capable of such a thing?

Yes, Livia had always decided. Anyone is capable of anything. Just because she grew up with James doesn't mean she knew the true him. And he doesn't know the real her either, so she supposed they were equal in terms of secrets, masks and disguises. They all had their fair share, and were just particularly good at hiding it.