DAISY

The rest of the classes I spent solemnly dedicated and motivated. By the end of the day, I am left with finishing some projects and starting on homework in the school library.

I arrive back at the penthouse after six in the evening. Did I mention that I've surrendered and allowed myself to succumb to Kay's rules? Yes, I did. Since his threat in the kitchen, I decided it would be wiser to lay down my weapons and let Vance drive and bodyguard me everywhere.

Not because I'm unable to stand my ground, but honestly, I don't want to push beyond this stage where Kay and I barely survive. I have too many things to worry about. Dropping my weapons doesn't mean I'm a coward; it means I'm not interested in fighting for something that has no meaning or reason. Up to now, I have no idea why Kay despises me, and from the way things are going, I'm sure he has no intention of enlightening me. I doubt there's even a reason. Maybe he just decided to hate me because he's mean, he might just want to make me feel bad about myself. But he doesn't realize that I'm already a wreck. I've been feeling bad about myself for eight years straight, not a single day passing without regret for existing in this cruel world.

With textbooks in my hands and a bag slung over my shoulder, I head to the lobby, passing the front desk where Lany flashes me a welcoming smile.

KAISER

"What's with the bags of chips and cartons of beer?" Riley questions as she walks into the bedroom in an outfit every man would agree looks sexy on her.

"I'm having a party, so I think we should lock the bedroom," I simply answer.

"What?" She stops at the closet and turns to face me.

"You heard me," I snap without real purpose.

It's a habit that's lived in me now.

"Can we talk for a moment?" She begins approaching me, barefoot and gentle, as she always is.

Why am I angry at her?

"What's there to talk about? I'm having a party like every other college freshman's weekend."

"Not about the party, KC," she says timidly, her lips thinning into a straight line before she adds, "About you."

"What about me?" I press.

I know there's a lot, but as the wiser ones say, strike first before the opponent does. Riley isn't my opponent, though. Whatever this is, she believes we're on the same team. She's trying, and I know it. I just don't know how to stop being an asshole.

"You've seemed off this week. I don't know, but there are changes in you I can't quite point out."

And she's right. It all started when the one person I thought was dead and buried decided to rise from the ashes and haunt me in my waking hours.

"Then don't try harder. You can't point out everything," I practically yell.

Who does she think she is? Does she think she can fix me? No! I'm already damaged, rotted by an olive-skinned girl with perfect cupid lips, a slightly upturned nose, and crystal green eyes, framed by light caramel brown hair.

"So there's something wrong with you," she says softly, filled with accusation.

"No," I retort.

"But you just admitted it," she responds quickly.

I can't help but exhale in frustration. If only she knew how to let me breathe. "Can you for once mind your business? Isn't there something interesting about your life rather than suffocating mine?" As soon as the words leave my mouth, I immediately regret them. It's as if I physically shoved her because she takes two steps away from me, her eyes twitching as she swallows and looks away.

Hell, I'm really damaged beyond repair. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said," I mumble, the least I can say after my ungrateful attitude.

She shakes her head and offers a small smile. "You mean exactly what you said." Her voice is small and fragile, just as it used to be when I was a mess. I hate myself for denying her what she deserves—goodwill, good behavior, and politeness. It was all she asked for when we both believed my pain would fade with time. I'm sure she can see it in my guilty eyes.

No, Riley, you're wrong. Time has only made it worse.

"I have somewhere to be. You could use some air. Have fun with your random people here." She leaves after those words, and I fail to follow her and tell her I'm sorry.

I'm such an asshole.

But you can't blame me; it's all the evil that comes with Daisy.

Here's what happened today: Earlier in business ethics class, I received a photo of Daisy sharing a table with Caden Thaddeus at some campus diner. One of the school's most notorious people. Not that I see him as competition or anything; I know damn well I'm better than he is.

Here's the thing about Caden Thaddeus: He's bad news, the type no woman should be around but he happens to attract them like butterflies to sunlight, in this context Caden has no light in his intentions. He doesn't just dump the girls he sleeps with; he doesn't even remember them at all.

You could call him an asshole, but wait until you hear his side of the story.

A week ago, he joined the support group Riley and my mom urged me to attend. On the outside, he was the self-assured wealthy bad boy who didn't care about anything. However, in the support group, it is the complete opposite.

Caden isn't much of a talker. He's really good at hiding his emotions with nothing more than the idiotic grin and rebellious smirk he always has ready. But behind the facade of his god-like superiority is a broken little boy. And I know he actually cares about a lot of things in his life.

Yes, we have a little in common. Drowning.