Chapter Nine

Zach

Opening the door, Ella's shrill crying fills the room, and my heart beats faster as I run in. "Is she doing any better?" I ask, too worried to care about how desperate I sound. Ella's obviously not okay, her screeching says as much, but my brain is too frazzled to be rational.

Clutching the prescription bag, I wait for Tiffany to turn. When she does, my heart nearly drops to the floor. Perfect, beautiful Ella is covered in a harsh red rash, and no matter how much rocking Tiffany does, she won't stop crying.

"Ella, baby," I breathe out, carefully taking a few steps toward her because I don't want to upset her more. "Do they know what caused it?" I ask, gently placing my palm against her cheek, the warmth of the rash radiating through my hand.

Tiffany strokes the top of Ella's blonde head, kissing her forehead while rocking her. "The doctor thinks it's an allergy but can't pinpoint what it's from without a blood test." I stare down at the precious baby and feel more determined than before. I already know it's a test we won't be able to afford. The pediatrician only sees us because he's our neighbor. "Dr. Callahan said we should be able to figure it out by keeping a diary of everything she eats and touches for the next month." I shake my head, hating that idea because I don't want Ella to go through this again.

"No, get the test."

Tiffany sighs and points to the bag. "Is that the ointment?" Staring at the crinkled brown bag, I pull out the white tube. "Thank goodness. Hopefully, it will reduce the swelling."

"I'm sorry I couldn't get it to you sooner; the bus was delayed." I left out that I had to explain to Coach why I was bailing early so he could excuse me from the rest of my classes. He's the only one who knows about this, and that's only because he saw it firsthand when my parents invited him for dinner after offering me a scholarship.

"It's not a problem. I'm sorry I had to bother you with Ella stuff again." Tiffany lays Ella on her changing table and reads the instructions on the tube. "It's just that both your parents were at work, and when the red lumps appeared, I had no idea what to do. I freaked out."

Grasping her arm, I give her a kiss on the forehead. "Always call me. That's what I'm here for. Get the blood test."

"Zach," she warns. "We can't afford that."

" You don't need to worry about that. I'll figure it out." I'm not sure how I will pay for it just yet, but I'll find a way.

Tiffany looks at Ella, then at me. "It says we need to bathe her in lukewarm water, then slather this stuff on her." I nod as Tiffany jogs to the bathroom and turns the water on.

Still in Ella's bedroom, I carefully lift her into my arms and hold her close. "Hey, baby girl."

"Za Za," Ella coos, her voice breaking at the end. I didn't think my heart could break anymore, but it does. This girl has me wrapped around her little finger, and she doesn't even have to try.

I kiss her on the temple where it looks less red. "Don't worry, Pumpkin, we'll have you feeling better in no time." I promise, rubbing her back ever so slightly.

Tiffany is testing the water as I carry Ella in. "I think the temperature is good." She reaches out for Ella, but I sidestep her and help put Ella in the bath. It's a simple gesture, but one I want to make sure Tiffany understands. She's not alone. We're all in on this together. We're family.

When Ella sits in the tub, her cries quiet a little, and I poke out my tongue, and she smiles. "That's what I was missing."

Tiffany calms next to me as I wash Ella. After bathing and slathering her in the ointment, it took us a couple of hours to get her comfortable enough to sleep.

Falling onto the sofa, I scrub a hand over my face.

I have so much work to do, but I'm too exhausted to deal with it.

"What time are your parents coming home?" Tiffany asks, lying on the sofa beside me.

"In an hour, I think."

Jumping out of her seat, she runs a hand through her messy hair. "Oh gosh, I should make dinner for us. Hopefully, they'll be okay with fajitas."

I lean forward, widening my eyes to try and keep them open. "You don't have to do that," I say half-heartedly because my stomach is already growling. Tiffany is an awesome cook; it's one way she escapes from everything going on, but that doesn't make me feel less bad about getting her to cook for us. Even when we were younger, I always remembered her baking tiny cakes in this bright-pink easy-bake oven.

"I want to. Your parents have done so much for me. It's the least I can do." With that, she skips into the kitchen and leaves me sitting with the baby monitor on the coffee table. I smile, watching Ella sleeping soundly, slathered in enough ointment to baste a pig, but she looks content.

Lifting my hips, I pull my phone from the back of my jeans and intend on opening the Chally Sports app to veg for a few minutes. I smile when I see I have a new message from Honey.

Honey: We need to talk.

Frowning, I try to understand why that message sounds like an angry girlfriend. She's probably pissed I didn't see her in history or math. I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind when I left her on the bench today, and I shouldn't have promised anything, but since it's all fake, I figured she wouldn't be too bothered that I left. Still, something inside me makes me want to call her and explain myself.

I grab the baby monitor and walk to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me for some privacy. Clicking her name, I stick the phone on speaker and place it on my desk while I change.

The phone rings several times before her silky voice comes through the speaker. "Hello?"

"You sound surprised? Not used to getting phone calls from your boyfriend?"

I can hear her shuffling around before she speaks. "No, actually, I'm not. Jamie always preferred to text, so forgive me if my fake boyfriend calling surprises me."

"Your text sounded angry, so I figured I'd call instead of text and hope for the best."

"How very chivalrous of you, but it's me who should apologize. I shouldn't have sent that text. Mike mentioned you only miss practice when something big comes up at home." The way the statement lingers feels like she wants me to give her an explanation, but I'm not exactly sure how to explain my home life to her without her thinking I'm a huge fuckup. Also, I'm still not entirely convinced she won't tell anyone about my situation, and I'd rather the whole school not know about Tiffany and Ella.

"Yeah, I didn't have time to tell you because I needed to catch the bus. If I miss one, it takes a couple of hours to get home." I pull my shirt over my head, wad it up, and throw it into the laundry.

"Can I ask you something?" Her voice is quieter now, and that intrigues me.

"Anything." I stop what I'm doing, waiting for her question.

"It's none of my business or anything, but is there a reason you don't have a car?" Because I'm not a rich socialite with a daddy with money to burn on glittery pink sports cars.

"I have a motorbike, but it needs some work before I can take it onto the road." More like it needs an actual engine, but now that I have an allergy test to pay for, it'll more than likely be sold for parts. Poor old Nessy has been sitting in the garage since sophomore year when I needed to buy South Point Prep's uniform.

Opening one of my drawers, I pull out a clean white shirt with a hole in the front, and Honey snorts. "Motorbike, quarterback, leather jacket, fake dating. Could you be any more of a bad-boy cliché?"

Grinning, I laugh along with her before glancing at the baby monitor to see Ella's sleeping form. There's something so peaceful about watching a little baby sleep; sometimes, I find it hard to look away. "Believe me, I'm not a bad boy. So far from it."

"No, you're right. A bad boy wouldn't have warned me about a bet. They would have just used me and left my already decimated heart on the floor with an extra shoe mark."

"Decimated? Did Jamie really hurt you that much?"

There's silence at the end of the line for a minute, and it's so long that I double-check to see if we're still connected. "I thought he did when I first saw the video. For the longest time, it was him and me against the world, you know? I've known him since I was born, and I'd been told my whole life that he was the one I would marry. It felt shitty when he hooked up with McKenna, but I'm starting to see things a little differently now."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Just, some stuff in my life has made me realize that there are better things out there." I wonder if she's talking about me and that awesome kiss we shared. "He came up to me today, you know?"

"Who? Jamie?" Something courses through my veins, and I'm not sure what. Possessiveness maybe? Surely not. Probably annoyance for Honey, considering all the shit he talked in the locker room the other day.

"Yeah, he dragged me away from study hall and tried to convince me that you weren't interested in me."

"Did he tell you about the bet?"

"No, of course not. He wants his money, I'm guessing. He tried to pull at my heartstrings, but I'm not stupid enough to believe him. Not anymore, at least." It's on the tip of my tongue to tell her that she's not the first girl I've seen him with, but I choose not to because what is the point? She already knows about one time he cheated on her; the only thing telling her about other girls would do is hurt her more. "I know he's been with other girls. Olivia had mentioned it to me before, and stupidly, I didn't mind. I figured he wanted some experience before settling down with me because we were young. My mom always made me feel like I wasn't good enough for his attention, and I'd need to work harder to get it. So, I went with it."

"Jamie's an idiot and is only starting to realize how much he misses you."

"You think?"

"I know. He doesn't like to share, and sharing with the scholarship kid eats him up inside."

"You're more than that, you know?" It's barely a whisper, and usually, I'd think a girl like her was being obnoxious, but after everything she's been through in the last week, I think she's actually trying to be sincere.

"You're more than Jamie's super-rich ex too." She breathes out the smallest of laughs, and it makes me smile. "Besides, we're more than what a few rich people think of us anyway. We've only got a few more months at South Point Prep before we're out."

"You might be out, but I'm stuck in the rich bubble for life."

"Aw, Cute Cakes. You're acting like it's real tough being the hottest, richest girl in school. Jamie will regret this, trust me, and once we're through, your status as Queen Bee will be returned."

"Sounds awesome," she says sarcastically. "By the way, I told Olivia about us. Figured she had a right to know since Mike does, and I didn't want to get into the middle of their relationship."

"Good move. We might need some backup stories every now and again. They should be able to help feed the lie."

"Mm-hm." Her voice slows, and again, she's silent. "I have another question." The hesitation lacing her tone makes it clear she's going to ask me something I won't want to answer.

"Shoot."

"Is there, uh, something going on in your home life that I should know about?"

"Home life? Like what?"

"Umm, I don't know. It's just that Mike told me to cut you some slack over not being around but didn't elaborate. Kind of sounded like you've got some serious stuff going on." Trusty Mike. Still not giving away my secrets, even though they might help his friend.

"Nothing that would affect our deal and agreement." I leave it at that because the more I explain, the more questions she'll have. "At school, I'll be at your beck and call, and you'll be at my games until the end of the season."

"Yeah." She sighs.

"Are you sure you're still okay with this agreement?" I thought this phone call would help ease her mind, but it's made it worse. I feel like I've made her even more unsure of me, but I need to keep her on my side for Ella's and Tiffany's sake.

"Yeah…" Her voice lifts like she's ready to say something else, and I'm ready to soothe her.

Ella's shrill cry startles me.

"What was that?" she asks.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Just something on TV. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I've got to go make dinner. I'll see you tomorrow at school, Short Stack."

"Can't wait." She groans, clearly annoyed at another nickname, but I don't stay on the call long enough to hear her complain. I hang up and race to the little cutie next door who needs my help.