Free Derailed by Eve Rabi Page A

Bradley when she’s puts them on.
    Then she drops her head forward, brushes her hair and throws it back again. Finally, she covers her eyes with one hand and sprays her hair with something – hairspray or some other shit – whatever it is, it makes her hair really shine.
    After another few minutes of eyeing herself in the mirror, she nods and tries on a couple pairs of shoes. Five tries later and she settles for one.
    “It’s like she’s another woman. Another version of Rival. A sexier one.”
    Yes, it’s fascinating watching Rival glam up, put in so much thought when dressing. But the question is: why all the effort? Peeved, I get up from bed and walk onto my balcony. Watching her dress with such care to go to Bradley, after spending the night with me, loving me the way she did, brings back so many memories. Bad ones about Olga and Liefie and Cruikshank. Drags back a chapter in my life I’m trying really hard to shake off. But what do I do? I know Rival’s agenda and I have to accept it. Shouldn’t I?
    “Hey!”
    I turn around and look at Rival standing at the entrance to my balcony.
    “You alright?”
    I nod and look away. 
    “What time are you leaving?” she asks.
    I shrug. What does it matter?
    “Ritchie?”
    I don’t look at her.
    “Are you…are you mad at me?”
    Slowly I turn to look at her. Even though I plan to say nothing, I’m not one to hold my tongue. With arms folded across my chest, I say, “You’ve put in a lot of effort to see Bradley.”
    “What?”
    “I’ve watched your ritual, and frankly Rival, it makes me wonder why you spend so much time, put in that kind of effort to see your ex, when we’re supposed to be together.”
    After a long silence, she speaks. “I’m confused. Where’s this coming from?”
    What does it matter where it’s coming from? The fact is I’m annoyed about it. Most of all, I long to tell her about my conversations with Bradley – how he finds her lips juicy and her arse sexy, but I can’t, because I have strayed true to Bradley and have never discussed his conversations with me about Rival.
    She peers at me. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
    I have to think about this one.
    “Ritchie!”
    Slowly, I drag myself past her and into my bedroom. She follows. I slip on a t-shirt and a pair of sneakers. 
    “You’re going for a run? After you showered?”
    I don’t answer. I need to let off steam, and running always helps me do that.
    “Talk to me, Ritchie.”
    “I’m not happy about this, Rival,” I say as I slip on my sports wrist watch.
    “This…as in?”
    I turn to look at her. “I’m not happy that you are trying to seduce Bradley, okay?”
    “But…but…Ritchie, you know what my plans are, don’t you?”
    “Yeah, but Rival, you’re with me now – things have to change, Rival. You have to change the course of your plans.”
    “But I want to get back at Scarlett, Ritchie. I need to. How do I do that if –”
    “Rival, you have won.”
    “No, I haven’t, Ritchie. He’s still with her.”
    I shake my head.
    “She wagered with me, Ritchie. A dollar. I have to win. I have –”
    “You have won. They’re not happy.”
    “– to wipe the smirk off her face. He’s still with her. That means I have not won, Ritchie, and if you’re expecting me to abort my plans, then –”
    Clearly, she hasn’t heard a word I’ve said. “You’ve become Scarlett,” I finally say.
    She jerks back. “What?”
    I point to her clothes. “Look at you. All glamorous at ten in the morning, looking like Scarlett with your…your Columbian jeans, and your black ink around your eyes and fancy hairspray and…and two lipsticks? You’ve become the very woman you despise.”
    “Don’t say that.”
    I nod. “You’ve morphed into your nemesis, Rival, and –”
    “Stop saying that!”
    “– you’re hell bent on winning…what? Bradley? Then what?”
    “I…I…” Her eyes scud.
    “What happens to us after that?”
    She doesn’t