29. Warrick

Chapter 29

Warrick

S eeing her on the dance floor in her element is intoxicating. Arabella always knew how to move her body in a way that would draw all the attention to her and not in a bad way. She was like one with the music. You could get lost in time watching her, which is exactly what I did until Keiran, one of the Fae teachers, showed up and distracted me. I tried to keep a discreet eye on Arabella while I could, but I also didn't want to ignore my friend.

Since I started mentoring at R.I.S.E., I've had a hard time making friends amongst the other teachers. The Angel teachers wanted nothing to do with me, a newer angel who was only assigned here, thanks to Cassiel. Sure, his connections got me my position here under the guise that I was to watch Arabella's every move, but I had other motives for agreeing to his request. Not once have I given him a report about his daughter either. When I literally ran into Keiran earlier this week in the hallway on the third floor of the academic building, we've been slowly becoming friends ever since. He's been helpful in telling me the lay of the land and who's who amongst the teachers. As I figured, he told me to avoid most of the wolf teachers and even the angel teachers. I had already made up my mind about the other angels on my own, but I hadn't known to be cautious of the wolves. He told me they were quick to anger, which, considering they are wolves, doesn't surprise me at all. He also told me to be wary of the Fae. They were tricky, and if you said the wrong thing, they would hold a grudge and pay you back tenfold for the wrongdoing. Thanks to his knowledge, I've been learning the lay of the land a lot easier and finally starting to find my place amongst the staff.

A couple of times, Keiran caught me staring at the dance floor, but I was able to brush off the questions as if it was just my curiosity about the crowd here in town. After that, I tried to be more careful, but the second I saw Guard Noah approach Arabella the hair on the back of my neck raised, and I refused to take my eyes off of her. I knew he was a slimy bastard, and I had caught him following a few too many female students around campus. I wasn't going to let Arabella fall victim to his games. The second he turned her around, pining her to his chest, was the second I stood up, my chair falling over behind me in my rush to get down to her. By the time I arrived, Stark had the situation in hand and was pulling Arabella away from Noah, handing her off to the safety of her friend Harper. I couldn't help my need to step in after that ensuring that Noah walked away.

Usually, I was one to let Arabella have her fun and tell me when she was ready to go home for the night after dancing, but tonight, I was done. So I asked her if she was ready to go home, not wanting to force her into it. I learned my lesson earlier this week that trying to tell her what to do was a horrible idea and would only piss her off more. If I posed my request as a question, she would have been more likely to listen and hopefully do exactly what I wanted, which is what she did. If she had refused, I would have let her stay with her friends, but I also would have continued to hang around the outskirts to ensure she was safe.

After leading her to get her jacket, I knew she would still need to close her tab at the bar. She doesn't know it, but I had been tipping the bartender all night to water down her drinks just slightly once I realized just how many she had. To prevent him from saying anything to her about it, I flagged him down and gave him my card to pay her tab for her. She might get mad at me for it, but I'm hoping she doesn't question it. Instead, I just think that it was normal since it's what I always did back home, too.

When we made it outside, I could see her swaying in place knowing the alcohol was hitting her pretty hard. She was going to need food and bed very quickly. Settling her into the car was easy enough before I jogged around to my side to get in.

"Am I taking you back to your dorm, or do you want to get food first?" I ask, turning over the engine and starting the car.

"Food, please food," she slurs, right as she settles her head against the cold window and closes her eyes.

Oh yeah, she definitely needs to get some food in her to sober her up slightly before I get her home. If I take her back like this, she is going to feel like shit in the morning and have the world's worst hangover. "Food it is," I chuckle, backing out of the parking spot and heading out to the main road. I've been coming into town several times throughout the week, so I know a few good spots to get some greasy food at this hour. I head toward a twenty-four diner on the edge of town that I know serves some decent chicken fingers and fries. They even make an amazing key lime pie that I'll be getting a slice of for myself.

The drive to the diner doesn't take long. In ten minutes, I'm pulling into the almost empty gravel lot. Since it's midnight, we beat the bar crowd that I know will be finding their way here when the clubs and bars in town start to close at two in the morning. "We're here," I call out softly, rubbing Arabella's shoulder to wake her.

Slowly, she stirs, opening her eyes as she lets out a little moan. When I know she isn't going to fall back asleep, I turn the car off and get out, walking to her side to open her door. The second I do, I see the panicked look in her eyes before she quickly bends out of the car and begins to vomit everywhere. Quickly, I jump back out of the way to her vomit misses me. She pukes a few times in a row before she stops and moves back into a proper sitting position in the car.

"You okay?" I ask softly, stepping forward once again, careful to not step in the pile of vomit. Reaching across her, I help get her seatbelt undone and wait for her to tell me the next move.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she mutters, taking shallow breaths. "I feel slightly better getting that out."

"Good," I smile, holding my hand out for her. "Let's get inside and get some food in you. I'll order, and you can head to the bathroom to rinse your mouth out, how's that sound?" I hid my demand in a question knowing she was too drunk to notice what I was doing right now. After some food and she sobers up slightly I won't be able to get away with it again.

"Deal." She places her hand in mine and lets me guide her out of the car and into the restaurant. When we get inside, I point her in the direction of the bathroom before I find myself one of the empty booths in the restaurant. The diner has an old-time 50s theme to it, with red leather booths and the silver speckled table tops. The floors are black and white checkered tile, and even the waitresses are wearing rollerblades to skate around the place. I thought it was cool, and I know if Arabella is sober, she would as well. She would love the vibe in here and probably be begging me to give her some change to play the jukebox that is nestled into the back corner.

"Hiya, Sugar, what can I get you tonight?" the waitress comes up to the table seconds after I take a seat.

"Can I get a Coca-Cola for me and water for my friend? Also, can I get an order of chicken fingers and fries and a slice of key lime pie?" Hopefully, the food won't take too long to come up.

"Sure thing. Do you want the pie before the food or at the same time?" she asks, writing down my order on her notepad.

"Same time, please," I answer. "Thank you."

"You got it. Food should be right up." She skates away leaving me sitting in the booth silently while I wait for Arabella to return. I thought about following her to the bathroom to keep an eye on her but I need to let her have her space. There's no way that Noah would know I would bring her here for food before taking her back to the dorms. No one is going to try to take her from me or take advantage of her while she's here.

Right when I contemplate getting up to go find her, Arabella slides into the seat across from me and begins to fiddle with her cuticles nervously. "You okay?" I ask, and at the same time, the waitress comes back with our drinks.

"Coke for you, Sugar, and water for you, Sweetie," she states, placing the drinks in front of us before skating off once more.

"Wasn't sure what you'd want to drink but figured water would be good to start with," I explain when she stares at her glass.

"It's perfect," she mumbles before bringing the straw to her lips to take a big sip. "Why did you come to help me?"

The question comes out of nowhere, blindsiding me. I didn't think we'd be having this conversation tonight at all. I thought we would just sit here in silence, me watching her as we waited for our food. Leave it to Arabella to keep me on my toes. "I was out with Kieran, a teacher for the Fae, and looked down onto the dance floor and saw Noah trapping you. I hadn't seen your friends around, so I came down to help you since you looked so uncomfortable. By the time I got there, your friends had already begun to settle things, I just wanted to make sure Noah moved along and didn't come back."

It's not necessarily a lie. I looked down and saw her in trouble; I just left out the part where I had been watching her on and off throughout the night. I wasn't too thrilled when I saw her dancing with another guy, but she looked happy, so I wasn't going to step in. That would just cause issues, though when she is sober, we do need to talk about behavior when you have a mate. I couldn't make out who the guy that was with her was, or I would have been having a chat with him as well.

"Oh," she clears her throat and goes back to picking at her cuticles. "Thanks for the save. I really was uncomfortable around Noah. He's been acting super weird and following me at times on campus. Ever since the first day I met him, I've got a weird vibe and have tried to keep my distance, but he makes it hard, always popping up when I least expect it."

It takes everything in me to stay calm as she talks. I hate that she didn't tell me any of this before, but I'm not going to bring that up now. No, I'm just glad she is finally talking to me, and I don't want to ruin that. I fucked up earlier this week, and I will do whatever it takes to mend things between us. She doesn't know it, but I am absolutely, irrevocably in love with her.

"Do you want me to report him to the stay, or do you think he will stay away after tonight?" I want to leave the ball in her court and not overstep. If this is something she wants to continue to deal with on her own, then I'll let her, but if it's something that she wants my help with then I have no issues stepping in on her behalf.

"No," she shakes her head quickly. "I'll talk to Talia about it on Monday."

"Talia, huh?" I chuckle at her easy use of the councilwoman's name. "You're on a first-name basis now. Should I be worried?" I ask jokingly. Arabella isn't the type to get into trouble usually, the whole Dina issue aside.

"She's sort of taken me under her wing," she shrugs and resumes drinking her water.

"Huh, well that's good. I'm glad you have someone else helping you. Councilwoman Talia is a good ally to have while you're attending R.I.S.E." It's true she is. At first, I had been wary of her, but after she kicked Cassiel off campus and told him he was never welcome to step foot on it again she won my loyalty. Anyone who stands up for Arabella against her family earns my respect.

"Here's your food, Kids," the older waitress states as she sets our plates in front of us. Arabella wastes no time before grabbing the ketchup bottle to pour some on her plate for fries.

"Can I get some ranch as well?" she asks before our waitress can skate away.

"Sure thing, Sweetie. I'll be right back with that and more water for you."

"Shit, I'm sorry I forgot the ranch." I hit my palm against my forehead for being an idiot. I know how Arabella eats her chicken tenders, and I forgot the damn sauce for her, too distracted with my worry about her in the bathroom alone.

"No worries," she shrugs, digging into her fries as she waits for the ranch. I don't bother to touch my pie until after the waitress returns. I'm not super hungry. I just got it so I wasn't sitting across from her awkwardly watching her eat, which is exactly what I'm doing now. Shit.

"Here you go," the waitress states as she sets the small ramekin of ranch and the glass of water on the table. "Enjoy, you two."

"Could you stop staring at me and eat your food? It's weird, but I'm perfectly fine. I puked everything up already," she laughs as she picks up one of the chicken tenders and dunks it into the ranch.

"Sorry," I answer sheepishly as I dig into my pie. It really is a damn good piece of pie. The two of us sit here in silence, stuffing our faces for a few minutes until I manage to finish the slice of pie. Arabella still has two of her five chicken tenders left when I push my plate away and sit it on the edge of the table so the waitress can easily grab it the next time she comes by.

I try not to spend the rest of the time staring at Arabella, but it's hard to do when she consumes my thoughts. She's so damn beautiful sitting across from me. Her bangs have slipped out of the pigtails she had her hair pulled back in and keep falling in her face as she eats. Her cheeks are tinged red from the alcohol, and her eyeliner is slightly smeared under her eyes, but she's still beautiful to me. I always preferred when she didn't wear any make-up at all, letting me see her in her natural glory but even with all the make-up, she is still gorgeous.

"How's your stomach?" I ask when I see her beginning to slow down in her eating. I don't want her to feel like she needs to eat it all and then make herself sick again.

"It's fine, but I'm getting full." She leans back against the booth and places both her hands over her stomach. "Those are some hella good chicken tenders. We need to get those on campus. I would devour them every damn day."

"Ha," I laugh. "That is exactly why we don't need them on campus. You need more food in your diet besides just chicken tenders."

"Ugh, you take all my fun away," she groans. "What's wrong with just eating chicken tenders? They give me protein, and they taste good. What more do I need?"

"How about some fruit and veggies? Or what about what all the grease and fried food will do to your body?" I retort, trying to hide my laugh. She always loves to argue when drinking, especially over silly things that, when she's sober, she would never think to debate. It was one of the cutest things about her. I could sit here all day and give her reasons that she should eat healthier, but right now, her mind is focused on one thing. Chicken tenders.

"Eh, do I really need all those things?" she asks around a mouthful of fries.

"Yes, yes, you do. However, tonight, you can eat all the chicken tenders and fries you want." I know she can only stomach about three more bites before she gives up and pushes her dish away from her. When she does that means I can get her in the car and head back to the dorm.

"Fine," she pouts, her lower lip curling out just enough to make me think about what it would be like to kiss her right now.

No. Damnit, Warrick. You can't be thinking about that with her. I need to earn her trust back before I can even ask to kiss her again. We shared that first one when I told her she was right about us being mates and why I denied it to protect her. Tonight isn't the right time to try anything again, either. I won't take advantage of her like this, even if I can tell she is starting to feel better and sobering up.

"If I eat one more bite, then I'm going to puke," she groans, finally pushing her plate away from her and to the edge of the table.

"Ready to go back to the dorms?" I ask, pulling out my wallet to place thirty dollars on the table. It's more than enough to cover our meal and a nice tip for the waitress before she's stuck dealing with all the drunk students who will find their way here shortly.

"If we have to," she answers, giving in.

Arabella watches me put the money on the table, and together we slide out of our sides of the booth. As we exit, I give a small wave to the waitress and point to the cash on the table, show she knows it's there while following Arabella out to the car. She doesn't wait for me to help her get in the car; instead, I close the door in my face when I try to help her. Ouch, well, okay then. Heading to my side, I get in and start the car to head back.

"I'm not dropping you off in the student lot this time. We are parking in the faculty lot, and I'll help you get back to your dorm." I watch as she opens her mouth to argue, shakes her head, and closes her mouth, accepting how this is going to go. I know for a fact her feet have to be killing her. The last thing she is going to want to do is hike through the woods to get to the dorm. Lucky for her, the faculty lot is a lot closer to the school, so I can drop her off closer to her dorm and make sure she gets inside safely.