13. Chapter 13

13

Hope

It's downpouring heavily.

In the morning, the sky was clear, but by fifth period, a dark gray carpet had rolled over with turbulent winds sweeping the school grounds and banging on the windows.

Earlier, I checked my locker for an umbrella, even though I knew there wouldn't be one. I used it the last time and forgot to bring it back to school.

Now, I've been standing near the entrance for the past thirty minutes, waiting for it to stop.

Queues of cars drive out of the school. Some catch rides while others walk through the rain with umbrellas.

Marie and Sebastian ditched school after lunch because of something. They didn't elaborate and left as soon as they could.

Heath probably skipped, too. I didn't see him in the two classes we had together.

I check the time on my phone. 4:30 pm. It's getting late.

Letting out a sigh, I slip my novel into my bag and step into the torrential downpour.

In a matter of seconds, I get drenched. Water seeps through the soles of my Converse and my feet get wet. Like glue my clothes plaster against my body.

Bringing my bag to the front of my chest, I try to prevent the winds from slicing me into two halves.

I start walking in the direction of the bus stand. The bus will drop me four blocks away from home. At least, that is better than walking miles, especially when it's raining so hard.

A cold breeze sweeps past me. I shudder due to the chills that spread all over me.

I reach the bus stop and study the schedule. Bus 106 - 4:00 PM

I missed the bus.

This is my sign.

Luck isn't on my side.

It probably hates me.

I sneak shelter under an awning and stomp my feet at my bad luck. There's no way I can walk home like this, wet and cold, but I also can't stay here. Soon it'll get dark, and I don't want to walk home alone.

I look left and right in search of a cab, but there's not a single one in the vicinity. The roads are empty, and no one is around except me.

A black car rolls out of the school gates and stops beside me.

I know who this car belongs to. Heath Travon.

The passenger door opens, and he looks at me with his cold blue eyes. "Get in the car."

I hesitate for a moment, but do as he says.

I put my bag on the floor and hug my shaky arms as I inch closer to the fans that emit hot air.

Heath reaches out and turns all the fans in my direction.

Tucking the long strand of my hair behind my ear, I turn and find him already watching me.

"Thank you," I murmur, feeling embarrassed for getting a car ride from him. Again.

I wonder, what was he doing so late at school? I thought he left.

Heath drives to the drive-thru he took me before. "Are you hungry?"

I shake my head but my stomach grumbles.

Shoot.

If it wasn't raining, I would dig my own grave and fling myself in it.

My cheeks flush. "I'm fine."

"You don't need to fucking lie to me," he says in a low, gruff voice.

At the station, he orders a burger and chocolate smoothie for me and gets a bucket of chicken tenders for himself.

Like before, he pays using his credit card. I watch him tip the lady who shoots him a smile, but he doesn't acknowledge it. So I return it, and she grins at me until Heath closes the window.

I pick up the cold chocolate smoothie and sigh in pleasure as it goes down my throat. I stir and take a long pull when my eyes meet his.

"You like chocolate?" Heath asks, opening his Diet Coke can. His gaze doesn't steer away from me.

My smile grows. "I love chocolate."

"Of course." Slowly, his gaze drops to my body.

I follow and see the prominent outline of my blue bra showing through my top. Quickly I cross my arms and turn my body away from him.

Oh my God.

I want to die.

Preferably a quick death.

How could I forget that my clothes were wet?

I flashed him the sight of my bra. And also, the sight of my nipples poking through the material.

"It's all right." I hear him speak.

I close my eyes and mutter a few not-so-good words.

"I can see you through the side mirror."

He's bluffing.

I check, and sure enough, he can see me.

"I'm sorry." I reach for my bag and hug it to my chest. I've never been more embarrassed in my life before.

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

"You just saw my—"

"Yeah," he says in a deep voice.

"I didn't mean to flash you… or whatever."

"It doesn't matter." My chest tightens.

Right, of course. He must've seen many nipples, so it makes sense. He must've also touched them and kissed them.

Clearly, I know a lot, thanks to books.

"I should go home," I suggest.

Heath drives me home in the rain that refuses to slow down. The pitter-patter of the rain is the only sound in the car. He parks on the side of the curb and shuts off the engine.

"Let's get inside," he says.

I try to form the word ‘no', but it doesn't leave my mouth.

Taking our bags he runs to the porch. I follow him. Pressing a button on his keychain he locks the car and waits for me to unlock the door.

Stepping inside I leave the door open for him. "I'm going to change."

He nods. His gaze doesn't move to my chest that I'm hiding behind my bag. Still a tornado of warmth spirals in my belly.

Going up to my room I take a quick hot shower and change into something nice.

What are you doing? It's not a date.

I cringe when I pick a cute dress that I haven't worn since I bought it. I mostly wear jeans so I can carry cash, keys, and my phone without worrying about pockets.

Flipping through the hangers I decide on a simple white top and denim jeans that fit me tight. I brush my wet hair, so it looks tame and not frizzy. To look more presentable, I apply moisturizer on my face and lip balm. I contemplate mascara but decide against it at the end. I don't want Heath to think I'm trying too hard. Especially after he's seen my nipples. God, I'm not forgetting that ever.

When I get down, I find Heath in the kitchen, scrolling on his phone in boredom. The moment I enter the room, his hand pauses and his eyes run all over me like he's seeing me in a new light. My stomach turns upside down. He stares at me, then clenches his jaw and averts his gaze from me.

He checked me out and he didn't like what he saw.

That does something to my self-confidence.

Whatever. I know I'm not pretty, so it doesn't matter.

I'm on Earth to read books. That's the sole meaning of my existence.

"It's getting cold," he complains as he opens the bag and puts everything on the island, making himself at home even though it's his first time here.

I walk deeper into the room and reach for his wings. "I can heat it," I suggest.

"It's fine."

"Let me do—"

He directs a glare at me. "I like the crisp."

A laugh bursts out of me and his gaze softens. Out of all the things in the world, I didn't expect him to say that. It makes him normal.

The tones of my laughter fill the room while he remains stoic.

With a shake of his head, he starts eating. "It's not funny."

"I didn't expect you to say that." I stifle my laugh.

A dark look crosses his face, and his eyes look sharp as he slowly swallows. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"You can share if you want."

He pauses in surprise, then recovers, and asks, "With you?"

"Y-yes, if you're okay with that. I'll listen to anything you want to talk about. No topic is off-limits," I rush out nervously.

There's something about him that makes me nervous, the kind where I stutter and my stomach gets all fuzzy and warm unlike my father, who ties my stomach in a rope of knots. I hate that feeling.

"I didn't know there were off-limits topics."

"Uh…everyone has those."

He's quiet for a long moment before he mutters, "Yeah. You're fucking right."

I take a bite of the burger. "I told you."

"Won't it be unfair if you know about me, but I know nothing about you?" There's a playful hint to his voice.

"What do you want to know?" I sip my smoothie.

Heath fires off the question quickly. "Do you live alone?"

"I live with my mom. She's a nurse and works long shifts."

"That means you're alone most of the time."

"Yes." I nod.

He opens his mouth, but I stop him with my hand.

"My turn."

"Fine."

"Why do you skip classes?"

He arches an eyebrow. " That's what you're fucking curious about."

I grin in reply.

Tearing away his gaze from me, he stares outside. "I can't… concentrate." He whispers the last part as if he didn't want to say it.

"Why not?" I probe, eager to know the answer.

"There's always a lot on my mind."

Those words sink into my soul like claws. I've also been losing focus in my classes since Dad's visits. It's hard to occupy your mind with something else when there's already so much. The closest analogy I can draw up is filling an already filled jar.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No," he replies in a dead-serious tone, marking an end to the topic.

The air shifts between us. I can feel him closing off and hardening the shell around himself. There's more to him like how a shore is just the beginning of an ocean.

Tension builds as we clean up. Neither of us says a word to break it or make it easy for the other. When there's nothing else to do, I walk him to the door. It's only then I notice that the rain has stopped.

Suddenly a strident blast comes from somewhere nearby and all the lights in my house go off. Darkness blankets the space around us and a hush falls around us.

My heart accelerates and goosebumps rise over my arms. On instinct, my hand reaches out and grabs the first thing I can get a hold of. Which is him.

"What the fuck was that?" Heath asks roughly.

"I don't know," I whisper, fear clawing my insides.

Without thinking, I inch closer to him just as he switches on the flashlight on his phone. He puts it on the side table near the door. The light brightens the room a little, making it easy for me to see him.

Looking down at me he says, "It's okay." Then inches closer to me.

His proximity doesn't bother me. I know he won't hurt me.

"Is there a generator or something?" I shake my head. "I think it's a power outage, so you might be out of electricity for a few hours."

I pull back from him to not bother him, but his fingers wrap around my wrist. Using his phone, he sheds light on the area where Dad held me last night. The bruises are on display.

"What the fuck is this, Hope?" His tone is deadly as it makes my spine straighten like a rod.

"I-it's-nothing." I try to wriggle my wrist out of his hold, but he keeps me in place.

Stepping closer, he towers over me. Our eyes meet and he keeps them locked with his intensity.

"Did someone fucking touch you again ?" The darkness in his voice is dangerous as if he'd go out at this hour and search for the man who hurt me.

I'm surprised to see him like this.

"It's not like that," I whisper. It's exactly like that.

My heart races with anxiety. If he pushes the matter, I might end up blurting out everything to him.

He puts back his phone on the table.

I relax, thinking he's going to leave.

"Look at me. Please ." His voice is much softer than before.

Tilting back my head, I meet his gaze. There's no escape when his entire attention is on me.

Anger blazes through his blue eyes. "Someone is hurting you. Tell me the fucking name and I'll take care of them."

Take care of them? As in I won't get hurt again?

Tears cloud my vision when I think of him getting beaten by my dad. He'll do more damage to Heath than he could ever do to him.

"I'm fine," I say the words, hoping he'll believe them.

His fingers start caressing my knuckles. "I don't believe you."

I smile at him. "I'm fine, really."

"You have no idea what I'm fucking capable of. If you just tell me, they won't hurt you ever again." There's a promise behind his words.

"It's nothing." I brush it off again.

With a sigh, he looks away. His gaze stops at the stairs that lead to my room.

"Show me your room," he commands and my feet start moving. He follows me closely as I lead him upstairs.

I light up an old candle that I found in one of the drawers and close the windows.

When I turn around, I find Heath standing so impressively tall in my room that he makes it small. His eyes run over every inch of space as he takes it all in. I don't even want to know what he's thinking.

Regardless of how this place looks, I love it. I feel safe here. I'd never have this feeling anywhere else—maybe the library.

I quickly get rid of the textbooks and stationery that are on my bed from last night's study session and straighten the bedsheets.

"You can sit here," I offer, not that there is any other place where he can sit in this room.

Heath sits on the bed that squeaks under his weight.

My cheeks flush from discomfort. I think about what he's thinking and that further upsets me.

Pushing those thoughts away, I realize this is the first time a guy is in my room and sitting on my bed. A guy who must visit these kinds of rooms every night. I've never seen him with a girl before, but there's no way he's a virgin. That face. Those eyes. He probably wouldn't even have to ask them for it and just do it on the bed, against the wall—I need to stop thinking.

"So, you read books?" He gestures to my book wall.

"Yes." I smile.

He leans back against the wall and gets comfortable on my bed. He folds his arms behind his head and stares at me with golden specks flicking through his eyes.

"Your romance books?"

He remembers. "Yes."

"What are they about?"

Oh God. I never prepared myself for this question. How am I supposed to tell him the plot without sounding like an absolute hopeless romantic? Someone who's in love with the idea of love and everything that comes with it: whether it's complexity or simplicity.

"People," I say vaguely.

Heath quirks up his lips in amusement and glances at my books.

I stand in his path to block the view. If he reads the titles, he'll know exactly what they're about, and I'll never be able to meet his eyes again. There are some outrageous ones that I've turned toward the wall.

"Nothing special," I add, but my cheeks burn and that's a dead giveaway.

He stands up. "Nothing special, huh?" His height overshadows me and against his muscular body, I look like nothing.

While maintaining eye contact with me he starts walking toward me. For each one of his steps, I take two back. Soon my legs hit my book wall.

He bends down, then stands up.

I see a book in his hand, and I try to retrieve it, but he raises his arm in the air.

"Give it to me, please." I lift my arm to reach him, but he's just so tall.

"You're always reading. I want to know why."

He flips through the pages.

My heart rate drops. I think I'm going into cardiac arrest.

He can't read the words on those pages.

Do something.

NOW!

I push against him to reach my book, and we move backwards. He stumbles and falls on the bed with me on top of him. Our faces get close, and my hands are splayed on his chest where I can feel his thundering heartbeats. His heart is beating so fast. Just like mine.

My eyes fall to his lips. The heat in my stomach doubles until an inferno lights up in there.

I've never felt like this before. No guy has ever made me feel like he does. There's something about him. I can't pinpoint it. The reason why I'm drawn to him. The reason why my heart beats so fast when he's around. The reason why he makes me want to tell him everything.

Is it stupid that I'm aching to trust him when we're only strangers?

"Hope," he whispers painfully.

I watch his throat move incredibly slowly. The movement does something to me.

It's then I feel him against my thigh.

"I—sorry." I get off him, rip the book out of his hold, and hug it to my heaving chest.

Oh my God. I… was that…did he…

I can't think at all.

Heath sits up and opens his legs. Leaning over on his knees he rests his elbows on them. He then hangs his head low and closes his eyes in pain.

He must have been when I was sitting on top of him or perhaps… My body turns warm.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine. Give me a fucking minute," he grits out.

During that time, I arrange my textbooks on my study table and then put all my notes in the folder. Marie loves them since they proved to be quite helpful in the recent test. She didn't ask me, but I'll give them to her anyway.

Five minutes later, he finally speaks. "What's that?"

I find him pointing to the stuff I bought for making bracelets. "Something."

"Something?"

I sit next to him on the bed, with my knees drawn up to my chest. I put my chin on them to make myself small. "I'm…" my voice flatters.

It's hard for me to open up when I've been alone all my life. I don't know how to share things and tell someone about my interests, hobbies, or anything really.

When you're alone for a long time, it becomes a permanent thing. Almost like a scar that'll never go away.

His stare doesn't move away from my face. He's waiting for me to tell him even if it takes me ages.

I take a deep breath. "I'm making bracelets to sell them because I need the money."

It's not an unknown fact that Heath is rich. The car he drives looks expensive. Also, he lives uptown.

His eyebrows pinch. "You know how to make them?"

I nod. "When I was little, I used to make them. They're not that hard to make, to be honest."

He studies the supplies with new interest. I grow nervous around his quiet thoughts. Even his face is blank. I can't see what he's thinking and it's driving me crazy.

My overthinking brain starts to question whether I did the right thing by telling him. I wasn't even planning on telling Marie. But I've told Heath.

I just got this feeling that I can tell him about this.

When he doesn't say anything, I rush out. "But I can't do any of it. The back camera of my phone is broken. I tried with the front camera but it's hard to take pictures with it."

It's been a real hassle.

When he doesn't say anything, I grow even more nervous. I stand up to put away things in some safe corner when Heath grabs my hand. Warmth shoots up my arm and pours directly into my heart.

A cluster of fireworks explodes when he makes me sit next to him. I'm reeling from what just happened when he says, "You can use my phone."

What?

He's offering to help me. But why?

"No. It's all right," I reply quickly, and take my hand back to fidget with my fingers.

He stiffens before saying in a cold tone, "I'm not asking for permission. I'm telling you."

I frown at him. "And I'm telling you that I don't need your help. I'll figure it out."

"What's wrong with me trying to help you?"

"We're not friends."

He rolls his eyes. "I don't have to be your friend to help you."

"No, you don't have—" He's right.

"I want to help you," he tells me softly.

Those words hit me in the chest. Air escapes my lungs, and I clutch the ends of my top to understand the simple concept that's lost on me. No one has ever tried to help me before. It's always me helping others.

"But why?" I whisper.

There has to be an ulterior motive. A guy like him won't help a girl like me. No one has before.

He arches an eyebrow. "There has to be a fucking reason?"

"Yes."

"Then my reason is, I don't fucking know. I just want to." He looks deep into my eyes as if he might find the answer in them.

The dim light brings out the sharp edges of his handsome face. A glint of candle fire flickers through the black dot of his eyes and makes them look magical.

My heart flutters like a trapped bird inside my ribcage wanting to reach him.

The chiseled edges of his face appear so fierce and uninviting, but then there are his eyes, soft and blue, and so welcoming.

"You don't have to."

He ignores me. "You can come to my house, and we can work out the location to take pictures."

Slipping his hand into his pocket he pulls out his phone. "I've got the latest model. The camera is brilliant."

I salivate over his sleek, dark gray phone. It looks new and expensive with a big screen. His iPhone doesn't have a home button, unlike mine.

I badly want to hold it. I'm not into phones, but the latest iPhones make me weak.

"Do you want to test it out?" He advances his phone in my direction as if he can sense my eagerness.

My eyes widen. "What? No! It must work fine."

I don't want to make a fool of myself by dropping it.

He puts his phone in my lap. "Try it."

I switch on the phone and swipe up the black lock screen when the password screen pulls up. He tells me the password and I put it in. The black home screen appears with all the apps arranged in an order with hundred plus notifications.

I open the camera app and aim it at him. His eyes stare at the lens darkly and he barely eases his facial muscles when I snap a photo. I open it in the gallery.

"Satisfied?" he asks as he moves closer to me.

"Very."

Even in the photo, he looks insanely beautiful. I've never met a guy who looks as stunning as him.

"Wait for me after school tomorrow. I'll take you to my place."

I nod and hand him back his phone.

A yawn escapes my mouth and my shoulders sag with exhaustion.

"You should sleep."

I stand up. "I'll see you out."

"I can stay until the light comes back."

I shake my head at the prospect of Dad breaking in. "No, you can't."

He studies my face. When he doesn't get a read on me, he lets me walk him to his car.

The neighborhood is blacked out and quiet, creating an eerie surrounding that makes me shiver.

"I think I should—never mind." Getting in his car he drives away.

When I'm back in my room, I crawl into my bed and pull the blanket over me.

The candle will run out any time and then I'll be alone and scared in a cold, lonely house.

A selfish part of me wanted Heath to stay. The other part knows that if he did, he'd know about the secret I'm keeping from him.