Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Me:
I’m out front. Come out.
Isee that my message is read. Two minutes later, Constance is walking out her front door, heading straight for my car.
“You do know you could just come and knock,” she says, leaning down into my open window.
“Get your shit. I’m dropping you at Zara’s,” I tell her.
“Why?”
“Because you’re staying there tonight, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but why are you driving me?”
“Because you can’t drive yourself and I was in the area.” I shrug like it’s not a big deal.
I wasn’t in the area. I’m never just in the area of town where Spencer and Constance live. I’ve been friends with Spencer since we were in primary school, back when they lived in the same neighbourhood as I did. Their family had money, and then his father lost it all.
“Right, sure you were. I’ll be right back.” Constance doesn’t question my motives. She goes back inside, returning five minutes later with an overnight bag.
I look at her as I pull away from her house. “How’s your mum?”
“Sleeping. Let’s hope she stays that way.” Constance sighs.
“If you need to leave Zara’s, call me. I’ll come back and get you,” I tell her.
“Why?”
“Because I know Spencer is busy tonight.” It’s part of the reason I want her to call me.
I want to make sure Zara doesn’t crash if Constance leaves.
I know her depression is bad, but seeing her today, sobbing in the library, it fucking broke me.
I don’t know how to help her, other than letting her use me for whatever it is she thinks I do for her.
“I know what’s Spence is doing, but why are you doing this? And no bullshit about how it’s to help me. We both know it’s not.”
“You need to be careful around Zara,” I say.
“Why? Careful how?”
“Just don’t push her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
“I wouldn’t ever do that to anyone.” Constance sounds offended.
“She’s just…” I’m at a loss for words. How can I explain to Constance how fragile Zara really is without breaking Zara’s trust? I fucking can’t.
“You really like her,” she says.
“I’ve known her all my life. She’s family.” I lift a shoulder.
“Nope, this is different. You’ve known me almost your entire life and you barely tolerate me. You like her, like—like, like her. And not just the way a friend would like a friend.”
I glare at Constance. “I don’t like, like anyone.”
“Sure you don’t.” She smiles. “Don’t worry… I’m not going to try to turn her towards the better team.” Constance laughs.
With how Zara was kissing me earlier today, I’m not worried. She likes me much more than she wants to. Or it’s the only way she gets a break from her mind and she’s using me like a drug. Regardless, I’m more than willing to be used.
We pull up to the gate at the McKinley estate, and I press the button on the intercom. Constance whistles from beside me. “Holy shit, she’s richer than rich.”
“Don’t mention it to her,” I mutter under my breath.
“Mr De Bellis, are you expected?” A voice comes over the speaker.
“Afternoon, Malcom. Yeah, I’m dropping off Zara’s friend from school.” I greet the security guard who’s worked for the McKinleys for as long as I can remember.
“Come on in. I’ll let Miss McKinley know you’re here,” he says.
“Thanks.” Putting the car into drive, I go through the now-open gates, stopping under the alcove at the front of the house. “She knows who her family is, Constance. Don’t make a big deal out of it. Act like it’s normal. That’s what she needs,” I say before I get out of the car.
“You’re coming in?”
“Door-to-door service.” I smirk. I had no intention of doing that when I left, but now that I’m here, why the fuck not?
Constance gets her bag out of the back seat and follows me up the steps.
The door swings open before we reach it.
Zara stands there with a huge smile on her face.
Her hair is down and she’s wearing a pair of pyjama shorts and a band shirt.
Her face is clean of makeup. When my gaze meets hers, that smile falters slightly.
Her eyes look watery, like she’s just put drops in them.
Which means she’s been crying. I fight the urge to run up and hug her.
“Hey, welcome,” Zara says to Constance. Then turns to me. “Why are you here?”
“Being a good friend and dropping her off.”
“Well, she’s here now. You can go,” Zara tells me.
I turn to Constance. “Right, call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks for the ride.” She hugs me. My eyes stay connected with Zara’s. Her face scrunches up, but then she’s all smiles again as soon as Constance lets go of me.
“Ares. You lost?” Mr McKinley’s voice booms from behind me. Turning around, I smile at him.
“Nope, not lost, sir,” I add on the sir because it’s polite, but also because I know he fucking hates it.
“What the fuck are you doing on my doorstep, then?” Mr McKinley asks, his arms folded across his chest.
“Daddy, don’t be rude. Ares was dropping my friend off. This is Constance. She’s sleeping over tonight,” Zara explains.
“Nice to meet you, Constance,” Zara’s dad greets in a much nicer tone than he’s been directing at me. I’m used to it, though. He’s always hated whenever I’ve talked to Zara.
“Right, well, enjoy your night,” I tell Zara before turning around and heading back to my car. Before I get in, I stop and call out to Mr McKinley, “You should make those two sleep in different rooms. Constance has a huge crush on Zara.”
“I’m going to kill you, Ares,” Constance growls. “I don’t. I mean, you’re hot and all, Zara, but I don’t sleep with my friends.”
“I’ll pay you ten million dollars if you can turn my daughter off boys,” Mr McKinley says to Constance.
I laugh. That’s not happening. But I won’t be the one to burst his bubble.
“Daddy, oh my god, stop!” Zara screams. I watch as she takes Constance’s arm and drags her into the house.
Before I can get in my car, Mr McKinley stops me. “How is she doing at school?”
“Who? Constance? She’s fine.”
“Zara, dipshit. Is she settling in?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that, no, she’s not settling in. That she needs help and he’s fucking blind for not seeing it. “She’s making friends, seems all right whenever I’ve spotted her around.”
“I’m aware of how much you spot her around, Ares. Don’t bullshit me. Zara is… She’s not as tough as she likes people to think she is and I know Marcel asked you to keep an eye on her. Thank you for doing it.” Mr McKinley looks like the words physically hurt him to say.
“She’s doing fine. Really, and I think she’s probably stronger than anyone gives her credit for,” I tell him and then climb into my car, putting an end to the conversation.
It takes me thirty minutes to catch up with Spencer and Dan.
Spencer likes to street race. He does it for the money.
So he can feed himself and Constance. I’ve offered to help him out a few times, and every time I do, he tells me to fuck off.
Now I support him how ever I can. Like by showing up to a race where he’s going up against some cocky asshole.
Spencer has spent the last couple of years perfecting his Subaru WRX to make it the racing machine it is now. It has nothing on the McLaren Artura, but I’m not the one racing.
“Hey, you ready?” I ask Spence, running my eyes over his car.
“Yeah, Constance said you picked her up,” he says.
“Gave her a ride. I knew you were busy.” I shrug.
“Sure it didn’t have anything to do with whose house she was going to?” Dan asks.
“Pretty sure.” I glare at him.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Spencer hisses out, looking across the street.
James is making his way towards us, but he’s not alone. He has Cynthia wrapped around him like the bad fucking rash she is.
“Sucker for punishment,” I murmur. I knew it would only be a matter of time before they were back on again.
“What’s up?” James stops in front of us.
“Not much,” I reply before Dan can open his mouth and say anything stupid. I learnt a while ago that when it comes to James and Cynthia, it’s easier to keep my opinions to myself. He’s a big boy. He can dig his own grave if that’s what he chooses to do.
“What time you on?” James asks Spencer.
“About an hour,” he says. “You hanging around?”
James looks to Cynthia and then back over to Spencer. “Yeah, wouldn’t miss it.”
“Really, James?” Cynthia moans. “We have to stay here for that long?”
“I got a call to make.” I walk away before I tell my friend’s girlfriend to shut up. Leaning against the hood of my car, I pull out my phone and find Zara’s contact.
Me:
You doing okay?
My message gets read and then a thumbs-up emoji appears on my screen. I guess that’s better than no reply.