ELEVEN ARABELLA

ELEVEN

Arabella

I WATCH ROWAN WALK AWAY, regret making my stomach twist. There is no way I can eat lunch now. And I was so looking forward to it too. I was absolutely starving until I started to run my mouth and ruin everything.

“What’s his problem?” Cal mutters.

“I have no idea,” I lie, knowing exactly what triggered him.

Me and my stories. If only I could chase after him and tell him what happened between Bentley and me meant nothing because it’s true. We were young and dumb and ready to shed our virginity, so why not do it together?

Bentley was terrible, but that wasn’t his fault. He had no idea what he was doing, and I didn’t either. It didn’t help, coming from a home that doesn’t show much love. My parents weren’t affectionate toward me, and they weren’t that affectionate with each other either. What did I know about romantic love back then?

I don’t know much about it now either, but I crave it, even though it scares me. Am I capable of that type of love? I’m not sure, but I want it so badly and I want it with the very boy who is stalking off at a slow pace thanks to his boot.

Suddenly not caring what Callahan or anyone else might think, I take off toward Rowan, calling his name when I draw closer. He comes to a stop and turns, that handsome scowl on his face easing when he sees it’s me.

It’s the way his scowl fades when he watches me that gives me hope. That makes me feel like chasing after him might be worth it. I stop directly in front of him, my heart in my throat, my breaths coming faster, and he just watches me, his brows drawn together, his gaze locked on mine.

“You never did tell me,” I start, purposely being vague.

“Tell you what?”

“Who you’ve had sex with.” My smile is blissful. Without a care in the world. “You can tell me. I can take it like a big girl. Is it a girl who goes here?”

Rowan averts his head, the sudden gust of cold wind making his hair blow across his forehead. “No.”

“An old family friend like what I did?” At least you can trust those people. It might’ve been kind of terrible, but Bentley was sweet and he tried so hard. He was so awkward and even came all over my leg twice out of the five times. I’m still not quite sure how that happened.

“No. Not an old family friend.” His gaze returns to mine, and he appears so conflicted. Like he wants to tell me but doesn’t know how.

“You don’t have to say.” My smile falters a little but I keep it pasted on my face. “You’ve always been a private person.”

“So have you.”

My laughter is loud and I don’t even bother trying to contain it. “No, not really. I have a big mouth and I’ll tell people whatever they want to know.”

“Have you ever been in love?” he asks out of nowhere.

I blink at him, slowly shaking my head. “No. I’m not even sure if I know how to love someone.” The closest I’ve ever been to love are the feelings I have for Rowan, but most of the time they feel like a silly crush and nothing else. “Sometimes I think I’m broken.”

“Broken?”

“My parents aren’t the best, but you already know this.” The words come out in a hoarse rasp and I clear my throat, telling myself now is not the time to get emotional. “I have no family that I’m close with. I have friends, but I’ve never had a real boyfriend or fallen hopelessly in love. I don’t think I know how.”

“Bells.” I jerk my gaze up to his, surprised at the gentle emotion I can hear in his tone. “You’re not broken. You’ve just … never been given a chance.”

“Well, maybe someday, right? Guess I’ll have to get out of here first. Once I graduate, the first thing I’m going to do is travel across Europe.”

“Alone?”

I nod. “It’ll be wonderful.”

“Sounds unsafe.” He’s scowling again. “There are a lot of assholes out there who’d want to take advantage of you.”

“Stop trying to scare me, Rowan. I’m not afraid of traveling alone. It’ll give me the freedom I’ve been seeking for what feels like forever.”

“I’m not trying to scare you. Just speaking truths. But you mean it, don’t you?” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer him. “You want to travel alone and you’re not scared to do it either.”

“Not really.” Actually, I’m terrified but I can’t say that now. I’m trying to impress Rowan. “Life is meant to be lived, right?”

“Right.” He nods slowly. “Are you seeing your family for Thanksgiving?”

“No. They’re in Hong Kong. They can’t come see me because my father is working and Mother worries about me traveling over there for such a short vacation and dealing with the time difference and all that. It’s not worth it. Besides, they don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving in Hong Kong.” I believe and agree with everything my mother says because I have to. Otherwise, I’ll just feel pitiful and unwanted, and I’ve dealt with both of those emotions enough to last me a lifetime.

“What will you do for the week we’re off then? Stay here?” He sounds incredulous but that’s because he comes from a large family who all love and support each other. I envy him that and wish I had something similar.

But I don’t.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do, but it’s not so bad.” My voice is purposefully cheerful and I’m smiling, otherwise known as putting on my fake act that I’m so good at. The one where nothing bothers me and I’m accepting of my circumstances. “I always catch up on my homework. And reading. And they serve a Thanksgiving dinner for everyone who’s staying here with turkey and pumpkin pie.”

I can see the sympathy in his eyes and I don’t want him feeling sorry for me. “Sounds—nice.”

“It really is.” Unable to help myself, I reach out and pat his chest. I would keep on touching him forever if he’d let me. “Maybe someday I’ll get it out of you.”

“Get what out of me?” He’s frowning again.

“Who you lost your virginity to. But it’s fine. You can go on and keep your secrets. I don’t like to pry.”

I’m dying to pry but I won’t. Rowan keeps things to himself. Who he’s had sex with is none of my business.

He doesn’t say a word. Just watches me with those gorgeous green eyes, and I’m left with no choice but to walk away from him, dragging my feet the entire way back to the dining hall.

But when I glance over my shoulder to see if he’s still watching me, I discover that he is.

And I can’t help but smile.

“A RE you sure you can’t buy me a first-class ticket and I can hop on the plane to Hong Kong?” I FaceTimed my mother at seven o’clock at night my time because it’s early morning there and I knew she’d be up. And for once she didn’t ignore my call. She picked up after the second ring.

“Darling, Thanksgiving is next week.” A heavy sigh escapes her. “I would love, love to see you but it’s too last minute. Besides, we have plans.”

My stomach lurches. “You have plans?”

“I didn’t want to tell you.” The stress on her face is beyond obvious. Mother is always sneaking around and doing things she shouldn’t. Like making plans during Thanksgiving week when she knows her only daughter is left at boarding school alone. “We’re going on vacation with the Feldmans for a few days. Your daddy works with Jim and they’ve become friends. Ginny is wonderful. That’s his wife. You would just adore them! They have a private jet.”

“That’s nice,” I say, my voice hollow and downright echoey in my head. I should’ve known they made other plans. That they would forget all about me. Disappointment settles over me like a wet blanket and I wish I could shrug it off. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”

“You aren’t upset?” Mother mock pouts, her lips already glossed and shiny despite it being seven in the morning there. “I know you don’t like spending the holiday alone, but it just can’t be avoided, Arabella. We’ll try to see you for Christmas. I do have a surprise gift planned for you. I can only hope that it’ll all come together …”

She won’t see me. I used to believe her when she said stuff like that but not anymore. I won’t be with my parents for Christmas or New Year’s or any other holiday because they don’t care.

They. Don’t. Care.

Facing hard truths is never easy. My chest is tight and my throat is clogged. I try to swallow past the feeling but it doesn’t budge.

Only seems to swell and grow and I’m surprised I can even speak.

“It’s my birthday next week, too,” I say, my voice soft. “Or did you forget?”

“How could I forget my only child’s birthday? Of course, I remember! I can’t believe you’re going to be seventeen.”

“I’ll be eighteen,” I remind her.

“Ah, right. Eighteen! A grown-up. You can do whatever you want.” She pauses. “Within reason.”

She laughs.

I don’t. I’m too mad to pretend any longer.

“Do you have any birthday plans?” she asks when I remain quiet for too long.

“I’ll be here.”

“None of your friends will want to take you out and celebrate?”

“No, of course not. They’ll all be with their families over the holiday.” My eyes start to sting and I blink rapidly, fighting off the tears that threaten. “I need to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, darling! Take care! Happy—”

I end the call before she can get those last words out, flopping backward on my bed so I can stare at the ceiling.

It was a dumb idea, calling my mother. All it did was remind me that I’m an afterthought in their world and I don’t matter. Again, I wonder why they even had me in the first place. Was I not what they wanted? Am I a giant disappointment? It hurts when you realize that your parents don’t really care about you. And it doesn’t get any easier either. I thought it might …

But it doesn’t.

I was twelve when it really hit me that they viewed me as more of a burden than anything else. Middle school is the worst. Talk about feeling unlovable and wretchedly ugly. I had frizzy hair and braces on my very crooked teeth. Spots on my face and knobby knees. I was taller than all the boys in my class but that changed eventually.

When you’re twelve though? It matters. I towered over them. I wore glasses. I was flat-chested, and the boys made fun of me because of my glasses. My height. My frizzy hair. That’s where I first met Hadley. She took me under her wing and was a very good friend. She still is.

Hadley offered for me to accompany her with her family to the Bahamas for Thanksgiving week but I declined. Her dad stares too hard when he sees me in a swimsuit and he makes me uncomfortable. Simone is taking her boyfriend with her home for the first time to meet the family, and I can’t infringe on that. It’s too important of a moment.

I close my eyes, trying to stop the tears from rolling, but it’s no use. They slide down the side of my face and I sniff, thinking of that article Rowan found about my parents. Those phony photos and how sad I looked in them. Anyone with half a brain could see it.

I wonder if he did.