Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Two weeks. That’s how long I’ve been attending this new school. How long I’ve been hanging out with Ares, not always by choice. I’ve never been the one to go to him. Not since the night at his house. I was confused and curious if the effect he has on me was limited to school.
When he touches me, I don’t have all the noise in my head. It doesn’t completely go away, the feelings I’m dealing with. But they lessen, giving me a slight reprieve from feeling so overwhelmed.
I thought I was annoyed with the amount of attention Ares has been paying me for the last couple of weeks. I am annoyed with him. But also, now that he’s not here, I’m feeling as if I need him. And that isn’t something I like.
Ares has become a crutch, one I didn’t realise I was using as much as I have been. It’s almost lunchtime and he hasn’t been in any of our classes. I’ve stopped myself from texting him to ask him where he is a million times. I don’t need him. Or at least, I don’t want to need him.
“Are you okay?” Constance leans over and whispers. We’re in math, and she’s taken Ares’s usual seat. Right next to me.
“I’m okay. Are you?” I smile, but I’m not happy.
Not the slightest bit. I’m good at pretending though, which is what I will keep doing.
I don’t know where Ares is or what he’s doing, but it’s also not my concern.
I’ve gone all of my almost eighteen years without needing him. I can continue to not need him now.
“I’m exhausted. How has the school year only just started? I thought senior year was going to be easy—party central. But the workload is already a lot.” Constance sighs. Then her face lights up with a smile. “I have an idea. We should have a slumber party. Just us. You can come to my house.”
I’ve never been to a slumber party at another person’s house. My dad is a worrier, and he didn’t want me or my sister in a position of vulnerability by sleeping at a stranger’s house. I could now, but I’m much more comfortable in my own home.
“How about you come to mine?” I suggest.
“Really? Are you sure? You can tell me to fuck off,” Constance says.
“I’m sure. It’ll be fun.” I hope my fake excitement comes across as genuine.
“Okay, well, let me know when and where and I’ll be there,” she says.
“Tonight? I’ll text you the address. Around six?” I ask. I would offer to have her come with me after school, but I need a few hours alone before facing an entire night of being normal.
As soon as the bell rings out, I jump up from my seat.
“Are you coming outside for lunch?” Constance asks me before I can run off.
“I’ll catch up with you. I need to make a call real quick,” I lie.
Rushing out of the classroom, I head straight for the library, finding the room in the back I’ve visited a few times before. The moment the door shuts behind me, my shoulders sag and my eyes water.
Falling to the floor, I bring my knees up to my chest. My arms wrap around them as I lose the internal battle of holding myself together. I hate that I can’t control how I feel. I hate that I’m weak. Most of all, I hate that I’ve allowed myself to use Ares.
I know better than to mask my feelings for too long, because now that he’s not here to distract me, I’m falling apart and I don’t know how to stop it.
I reach into my pocket and pull out some tissues, wiping my face and nose, but it doesn’t do anything to stop the sobbing.
Why? Why am I like this?
I don’t understand. I force myself to think about everything I have to be grateful for. I think about the way my parents love me, my sister and my grandparents. Even my Uncle Xavier and Aunt Shar, my mother’s brother and his wife. I have so much. I know this.
Why do I feel like I have nothing?
The door swings open and I look up. A pair of dark-green eyes peer down at me. They’re usually blank, no emotion showing. They’re not right now, and I hate the pity that I see staring back at me.
“Fuck, Zara. Why didn’t you call me?” Ares closes the door and then he sits down on the floor in front of me.
I don’t say anything. I can’t. What would I say? He’s just caught me at my worst.
Leaning forward, Ares wraps his arms around my body, picking me up and bringing me closer until I’m straddling him. My legs lock around his waist as he holds me tight to his chest.
Burying my face into his blazer, I let myself take the comfort he’s offering. It’s wrong, to use him like this. But right now, I need it, so I indulge. Lifting my head, my face just inches from his, I meet his eyes and then I do the unthinkable. I lean in, pressing my lips against his mouth.
Ares stills. But he also doesn’t stop me. Which is why I continue. My tongue pushes through the seam of his mouth and he opens for me. Seconds later, Ares is taking control of this kiss. He swirls his tongue around mine. Slow, gentle. His hand cups the back of my head.
We kiss for what feels like hours, but is probably only minutes. When I pull away, I scramble off his lap. The tears have stopped. I still feel like shit, but a little less than I did before.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” I tell him.
“Did it make you feel better?” Ares asks, his head tilted.
“A little,” I admit.
“Then you should do it. Feel free to use me like that anytime you want, P.” His smirk lightens the mood.
I don’t respond. Instead, I pull my bag closer and dig through it until I find the little bag I always carry with me.
Starting with the wipes, I clean my face, and then I start reapplying the makeup I ruined.
First a light foundation, then some concealer, mascara, and blush.
I keep it simple and light because when you have to reapply constantly, you can’t spend hours doing a full glam.
“You do know you don’t need that stuff?”
“What stuff?” I ask Ares.
“Makeup. You’re hot without it,” he says.
“Thanks?” I put everything back, pull my hair out of the tie, and then do it up again, making sure the pink bow is perfectly sitting at the top of my head.
“Why do you wear a pink bow every day?”
“I like them.” I’ve been wearing my hair like this for years. It’s not because I like it, though. It’s because I remember Ares telling me it looked pretty once. It’s stupid, but that’s why I started wearing pink bows every day, and now it’s more of a habit than anything else.
“You good?” Ares stands when I do.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” He opens the door, and I step out.
“Where were you?” I ask him before I can stop myself.
“Miss me, P?”
“No,” I lie.
“Sure you didn’t. Cara called me last night. I had to go and see her.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah. She’s home now,” he says. His eyes dart to the side, which tells me she’s not okay.
I look at my watch. There’s still ten minutes of lunch left. “I need to go find Constance,” I tell Ares. “She’s coming over tonight for a slumber party.”
“Constance is going to your place?”
“Yeah, why?”
“No reason.” Ares places his hand on my lower back as we walk out of the library.
“People are going to think we came in here to hookup,” I say as I watch everyone looking at us.
“We kind of did, P.” Ares laughs.
“No, we didn’t.”
“Can I come to this slumber party?” Ares asks.
“Sure, if you want to end up in my dad’s pigpen,” I tell him.
There is no way my dad would allow Ares to stay over at our house. He doesn’t say I can’t date. Well, actually, he does. But he would definitely draw the line at a De Bellis. He’s still not over my sister running off and marrying a Valentino. Her husband is a mafia prince from New York.
“I’d take my chances,” Ares says.
“It’s girls’ night.” I shrug.
“Spence and Constance don’t come from families like ours, Zara. Don’t take it personal if she doesn’t spend the entire night. It’s not you.”
“Why wouldn’t she spend the night? It was her idea.”
Ares shrugs. “Their home life isn’t great. Sometimes shit happens and they need to be at home,” he says.
“Okay.”
“I just don’t want you to think that it’s you. If she does go home, call me.”
“Why do you care?” I stop. We’re almost at the bench seat where all of Ares’s friends are hanging out. And, I guess, my new friends?
“What do you mean?”
“I need you to stop hovering, stop caring about if I’m okay or not. I need you to pretend you don’t know I’m fucked up.”
“First, you’re not fucked up, Zara. Second, I care because I’m not the heartless arsehole you want me to be. And third, it’s kind of difficult to forget when my dick is still hard from having your hot pussy rubbing up on it.” He whispers that last part, and I blush.
“Well, I hope you enjoyed it, because it’s not happening again,” I say as I storm my way over to the table.
“Best time of my life, P,” Ares calls out from behind me.