Chapter 8
Brock races up to me. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I was taking a walk,” I say, glancing at the officers.
“Down there?” Brock yells, pointing at the beach. “At this time of night?”
“Yeah. Why?”
One of the officers steps up to me. “We don’t advise people be on the beach this time of night. It can be dangerous. We’ve had several injuries. Even some casualties.”
“As you can see, I’m fine,” I say, going around him.
“Rumor, get back here!” Brock yells.
I turn around. “What?”
He storms up to me. “You can’t just run off like that! I thought something happened.”
“Like what?”
“Anything! Like the officer said, the beach can be dangerous, especially at night. I didn’t even know where you were! I was worried sick!” He says it in an overdramatic way, making me wonder if he’s just acting or if he was actually concerned for me.
One of the officers goes up to Brock. “It appears that everything’s good here. We’re going to take off.”
“Of course,” Brock says. “Thank you for your time. This is her first night here, and as you can imagine, I was panicking when I couldn’t find her.”
“It’s understandable.” He nods at the other officer. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Brock says. They go inside the house.
As I’m walking around the pool to my room, I hear someone laugh.
“Busted on your first night.”
I turn back and see Braden lounging in the hot tub, his muscle-lined arms draped over the edge, his chiseled chest on display.
“I wasn’t busted,” I say, walking over to him. “I didn’t do anything, unless walking’s a crime around here.”
“It is if my dad decides it is. He makes his own rules and expects us to follow them, even if he doesn’t follow them himself. He’s been on that beach plenty of times at night.”
“I can’t believe he called the cops.” I take my flip flops off and sit down on the tile that surrounds the hot tub, sinking my feet in the warm, bubbly water.
“The cops thing is all for show,” Braden says.
“Meaning what?”
“He does that shit to look like the concerned father. That way if anyone reports him for leaving us alone all the time, he can deny it and use shit like this to convince the cops he’s Father of the Year.”
So Brock’s concern for me was fake, just like I thought.
“Has anyone ever reported him?” I ask. “For leaving you guys alone?”
“One of the neighbors did, back when we were younger. Trystan and I had a party that got out of control. The neighbor called the cops and when they showed up, the guy told him we live here unsupervised.”
“Where was your dad?”
“In Atlanta, shooting a TV show.”
“Did he get in trouble?”
“They called him and he denied everything the neighbor said. He told the cops he was flying home from a shoot and the flight was delayed.”
“And they believed him?”
“He’s an actor. He can get anyone to believe him.”
“Did he actually fly home?”
“Only long enough to make an appearance. He went over to the neighbor and apologized, or that’s what he told us. Knowing him, he gave the guy a warning. Scared him into keeping quiet.” Braden laughs. “The guy moved out after that.”
“Who lives there now?”
“No one. A developer bought it as an investment. He stops by now and then, but he doesn’t live there.”
I lean back on my hands, moving my feet back and forth in the water. “Your dad says he’s leaving next week.”
“Only if he gets the part, which he won’t.”
“Why not?”
“He’s too damn old.” Braden dips down in the water. “They’ll want someone younger.”
“He’s not that old.”
“He’s forty-five. In Hollywood, that’s like eighty-five.”
“If he doesn’t get it, will he come back and live here?”
“Doubt it. He’ll find a reason to stay in LA.”
“I still can’t believe he called the cops.”
“That’s nothing compared to some of the other shit he’s done.”
“Like what?”
Braden doesn’t answer. He lifts up from the water and rests his arms on the edge of the hot tub.
“Can I tell you something?” I ask, looking down.
“What?”
“I hate it here.”
He chuckles. “At least we have something in common.”
I look up at him. “You only have a year left, right? You’re a senior?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what?”
“College. Hoping to play ball at USC.”
“Why USC? You’d be in LA with your dad.”
“I wouldn’t live with him. I wouldn’t even have to see him.”
“I thought you’d want to get farther away.”
“You just met me. You don’t know anything about me.” His eyes meet mine across the hot tub. “Don’t think this little talk right now makes us friends.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah. I know you hate me, Braden. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
“I don’t hate you. I just don’t want you here.”
“That makes two of us. Believe me, this is the last place I want to be.” My eyes lower to the swirling water. “I never thought this would happen.”
“Shit,” I hear him say. “You’re not gonna start crying, are you?”
I shake my head.
“Hey.”
I look up and see Braden sitting beside me.
“Sorry about your mom.” He sounds sincere. I didn’t think he was capable of being nice, but maybe he can be in small doses. “It was what, a few months ago?”
“A few weeks,” I mutter.
“Really?”
I nod, afraid that if I talk about it, I’ll start crying after just telling Braden I wouldn’t.
“I thought it was longer than that,” he says. “You in counseling?”
“No,” I whisper.
“I’d try to avoid it if I were you. Counselors just make shit worse.”
I turn to face him. “You’ve been?”
“They made us. Trystan and me. After the divorce. It was part of the agreement.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “Judges think it’ll fix everything. Make some kid sit in a room and talk about his feelings and he’ll forget about his parents splitting up.”
“So it didn’t help?”
“Made it worse. I wanted to go punch something, not sit in a room and talk.”
“How long did you go?”
“Two weeks. By the third session, I refused to talk. Never went back. Trystan lasted three months but he’s more of a talker than me.”
“I’ve noticed that,” I say.
Braden stands up, dripping water everywhere. “You staying out here?”
“Maybe a few more minutes.”
“Going for another walk?”
I laugh. “Probably not.”
He goes inside the house. I get out my phone and check the time. It’s after eleven, which is after two in New York. Axl’s probably still out with Senna.
I text him.
How’s the concert?
He doesn’t text back. I wait a few minutes. Still nothing.
Dammit. I really need to hear from him. Being this far away, knowing he’s out with Senna, is making me imagine all kinds of scenarios that probably aren’t true.
After a quick search for Senna’s number, I call her.
“Hey, it’s Senna!” she yells over the loud music in the background.
“Senna, it’s Rumor. Can you talk?”
“Hold on. Let me go outside. Axl, I’m gonna go talk to your girlfriend.”
“Rumor’s on the phone?” I hear him say, though it’s muffled by the music. “Rumor?” I hear his voice clearly now. He must’ve taken Senna’s phone and gone outside.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Why are you calling Senna?”
“You wouldn’t answer your phone.”
“Is something wrong? What happened?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just . . . I miss home. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, babe. I wish you were here.”
“I hate it here so much, Axl. I want to come home. Is there any way your mom would let me live there?”
“Babe, you know she can’t. There’s barely enough room for her and me.”
“Maybe I should just do the foster care thing. It’ll suck but at least we’ll be together.”
“I’m not letting you do that. You know the stories we’ve heard.”
He means the stories on the news and the ones we’ve heard at school of kids being abused in foster homes. Some of them were too horrible to even think about.
“That doesn’t mean it’ll be that way for me,” I say. “Maybe I’ll get a good family.”
“And if you don’t, you’ll be stuck there for a year. I’m not risking it.”
“It’s not your decision. It’s mine.”
“C’mon, Rumor. You live in a mansion on the beach. It can’t be that bad.”
“It is. I went for a walk tonight and my uncle called the cops on me.”
“I thought your uncle was in LA.”
“He was, but he’s here now.”
“Why’d he call the cops?”
“Because he didn’t want me walking on the beach.”
“Why can’t you walk on the beach?”
“Because it’s dark and dangerous and . . . that wasn’t even the issue. He was pretending to be worried about me, but he really wasn’t.”
“Maybe he really was.”
“He wasn’t. Why are questioning me? I know what I saw and it wasn’t concern. He faked it. He doesn’t want me here. Neither do my cousins. Braden even told me tonight he doesn’t want me here.”
“Tough shit. You’re there and they need to get used to it.”
I sigh. “Just go back to your concert.”
“You’re mad at me now? For what?”
“I’m not mad. I’m just . . . frustrated.”
“Let me talk to her,” I hear Senna say.
“Want to talk to Senna?”
“Sure,” I say, not wanting to hear anymore from Axl. I thought he’d support me in this, but instead, he’s encouraging me to stay here. Is it because he’s found someone else?
“Hey, Rumor,” Senna says.
“See you inside,” I hear Axl say. He didn’t even tell me goodbye, or that he loves me.
“I’ve been meaning to call you,” Senna says.
“Yeah, it’s been a while.”
“I mean about your mom. I’m really sorry. I never know what to say when stuff like that happens, so I’ve been putting off calling you.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to call. I wasn’t even sure you were still in town. Did you ever join a band?”
“No, but I’ve been auditioning. I got a new guitar. Your boyfriend sold it to me. I went when he was working to make sure he got the commission.”
I don’t respond, not sure what to say. She called Axl my boyfriend, so she knows we’re still together, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do something with him.
“You still there?” Senna says.
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”
“Maybe we can talk some other time. Want to talk to Axl again?” I hear the music blaring, as though she went back inside.
“I’ll just talk to him tomorrow. Bye.”