CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
ALEX DAVALO
I messed up!
Sandro was busy playing a video game on his laptop when I walked in. The sound of clicking keys and virtual explosions filled the room, creating a buzz that felt familiar yet distant as thoughts swirled in my mind. “Sandro,” I said, half deep in thought, trying to shake off everything I had just experienced.
He paused the game, the screen dimming as he turned his full attention to me. “Alex, what happened? You returned late from school. That’s unlike you. Father asked after you, but I had no answer for him. You were not even taking my call. Are you okay?” He looked genuinely worried, his brow furrowing as he set aside the controller.
“Do you think we are being too hard on Nadia?” I asked, my voice soft and uncertain. It felt strange to entertain the thought, but it had been gnawing at me since yesterday.
Sandro’s expression shifted as amusement and disbelief washed over his face. “Hard on her?” he echoed. “How can we be? We’ve only treated her the way she deserves to be treated. Besides, everyone else treats her the same way” He laughed, shaking his head as if to dismiss the seriousness of my question.
“Don’t you think we’ve been too cruel to her?” I pressed again
“Wait,” he said, surprising me with a look of disappointment. “I hope you’re not thinking of convincing me to lessen our punishment on her?” The disbelief in his tone was heavy, and I could feel the tension thickening the air between us.
“I just came back from the hospital where Nadia was admitted,” I tried to steady my nerves. “I was told she fainted during her test the previous day.”
“Oh, you found out,” Sandro said, nonchalantly turning his focus back to his computer game like it was no big deal.
Honestly, it was infuriating. “You knew about it and didn’t tell me?” I could not even hide the anger in my voice.
“Why should I tell you?” Sandro shot back, turning to face me, his tone sharp. “Wait a minute! Don’t tell me you’re worried about that slut! She deserved what she got!”
“No, Sandro! She doesn’t!” I said, almost protesting without thinking. The anger bubbled within me, but I quickly realized I was becoming too emotional over this.
Lowering my voice, I tried to keep a calm composure. “Maybe she deserves it,” I continued, “but we need to show sometimes that bullying her is not all we’re about.”
Sandro’s eyes widened in shock, and he kept staring at me in disbelief. “Then what else are we about? I can’t believe you’re saying this,” he managed to voice out.
“I can’t believe I’m saying it as well,” I admitted, brushing a hand through my hair. “I know Nadia doesn’t deserve our sympathy. I know she’s nowhere near our class. I know thinking about her just pisses us off and makes us want to see her suffer even more. But there is something about her…” I paused, realizing the weight of my words. “Something about her that makes my heart want to love.”
I froze for a moment as those words settled between us. I had never imagined I would say something like that about Nadia. I anticipated Sandro’s reaction to be one of disappointment or anger, but to my surprise, my twin brother remained calm-cold, even-as if I had revealed a troubling secret.
“I… I just don’t get it,” Sandro stammered. “What do you mean there’s something about her?”
“I feel some strange connection to Nadia,” I explained quickly, feeling the urgency within me. “I’ve tried to shake it off, to tell myself that my feelings aren’t real. I’ve tried to remind myself how much I don’t like her. But they just won’t go away. The more I try to ignore it, the more I realize that I’m drawn to her.”
“So, I’m not the only one who feels the same way,” I heard Sandro say, his tone reflective and lost.
“What did you just say?” I asked, looking straight into his eyes for confirmation.
“I feel the same way towards Nadia too,” he confessed slowly, almost bitterly. “The more I think about it, the angrier it makes me feel.”
“Angry? Why?” I inquired, furrowing my brow.
“Because I hate admitting to myself that I might be falling for her,” he admitted, the tension in his voice palpable.
I felt stunned and bewildered. “Could this be that she’s our mate?” I blurted out, looking shocked. The idea sent a wave of confusion crashing over me.
“No!” Sandro cut me off almost immediately, his voice raised. “It’s impossible for us to be mated to an ordinary girl like Nadia!” He sounded firm, almost defensive. “We’re just overthinking this. We can’t let her mess with our heads,” he cautioned, his gaze now intense.
“But we can’t keep lying to ourselves!” I insisted. A burning frustration flared in my chest, the image of Nadia and her struggles replaying in my mind. “What if there’s more to her than we think?”
“I’ve had enough of this, Alex,” Sandro said, getting up from his chair abruptly.
“I can’t let you ruin my evening because of that slut.” He walked away, leaving me standing there, torn between anger and concern.
As he left the room, I felt a sense of loneliness settle in the silence. Did we have feelings for Nadia? Was it possible to feel this way for someone we had bullied for so long? The chaos of confusion whirled within me as I pondered the implications of our emotions.
I sank onto the edge of Sandro’s bed, my thoughts racing. I had known Nadia was not like us; she was different. She was quiet and withdrawn, constantly avoiding our glances. But I realized I didn’t truly know her. We had only seen her through the lens of our arrogance and superiority. What if there was more to her story? What if we were missing something altogether?
The more I grappled with these thoughts, the heavier they became. Perhaps it was time to change how we viewed her, to confront the reasons behind our actions. I couldn’t ignore this connection I felt. I had to know more.
During breakfast the next morning, the clinking of silverware and the hum of the refrigerator filled the kitchen, but my father’s question cut through it all. “I haven’t seen your mates around in a while. What’s happening, boys?” he asked, looking at Sandro and me with his usual, piercing gaze.
Sandro shot me a quick look, urging me to speak. I felt the weight of his stare but chose to ignore it, focusing instead on pushing around my scrambled eggs. I pretended not to hear him, hoping the moment would pass.
“Did you hear me?” he asked again, his tone sharper now, surprised that neither Sandro nor I had responded.
“Oh, Father, what was your question?” Sandro asked, feigning innocence as he chewed slowly, clearly trying to buy time.
“Where are your mates?” Our father’s voice brooked no arguments. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. And we knew better not to keep him waiting.
Sandro was the first to respond, but it was clear he was not being entirely truthful. “Lara is okay, Father. She promised to come over next weekend to see you,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. We both knew that Lara had no intention of coming over. She found our father’s presence uncomfortable and avoided him whenever she could. “His questions make my heart quake,” she often said to us.
I knew my father was waiting for me to say something about Bethany. I kept my head down, trying to avoid his piercing gaze, but that did nothing to deter him. “You already know I’m waiting for your reply, Alex,” he said, his patience wearing thin.
Raising my head and mustering a smile, I said, “Bethany is fine, Father. She traveled to be with her grandmother.”
“Really? Her grandmother?” he questioned, clearly skeptical. “Did you not tell me her grandparents were dead? Why have you chosen to lie to me, son?” There was a trace of disappointment in his voice, as though he had expected better from me.
My heart sank as I realized he wasn’t buying my story. His gaze was unrelenting, and the atmosphere in the room grew heavier. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to come up with a believable explanation.
Suddenly, my father’s face hardened. “Stop lying to me, Alex,” he said, his voice stern and unimpressed. He continued, “Bethany called me last night. She told me you’ve been avoiding her. Is that true?”
Caught off guard, I struggled to come up with a plausible excuse. “No, Father, that’s not true,” I said quickly. “I just needed some time to deal with a personal issue.”
“Is it about the girl at college, Nadia?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His question seemed to cut right through me, and I saw Sandro’s eyes widen with shock as he glanced at me.
Our father stood up from the table, his expression grave. “Don’t make me regret being your father,” he said, his voice heavy with disappointment. Then, without waiting for a response, he walked out of the room.
Sandro and I were left sitting there, stunned. The clatter of his footsteps faded, leaving behind a tense silence. My heart raced as I realized the gravity of the situation. The lies we had told had finally caught up with us, and the weight of our father’s words hung heavily in the air.
We sat there in silence, the remnants of our breakfast forgotten, as we both tried to process what had just happened.
Bethany must pay for this, I swear!