The Bad Boy and The Know It All

Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates, I was away without my computer for a few

weeks. In this chapter we see Ruben and Ara interacting a little more which I

was excited about. :) Let me knowwhat you guys think so far, I'm free for

suggestions so PLEASE COMMENT because it's really a transition chapter

in which both character's realize their feelings for one another.

-Jazzy

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Arabella POV

Her cheeks were flaming as she extended her hand to the amused boy before her.

“Arabella Newborn.”

He took her outstretch hand, his rough palm nearly engulfing her slender fingers. 

“Nice to meet you-again. The names Bond, James Bond,”

Ruben still had her hand, more cradling than anything else and Arabella’s laughter died out as her heart began to race. She managed to break free of Rubens grip and backed up a few steps.

            Careful Ara, he’s no good for you, you’re leaving at the end of the semester and you promised not to leave any ties back home, she coaxed herself. The boy was bad news; after all, his inner wrist was proudly decorated with gang-affiliated signs. Ruben was oblivious to the fact that Arabella had recognized the symbols for what they really were and she silently thanked her internship with the At Risk Youth Rehabilitation center for her exposer to signs like Ruben’s. With a new resolve Arabella tugged on the hem of her shirt and turned to climb the stairs, fleeing both the boy and the emotions reeking havoc on her system.

For a fleeting instant she entertained the fantasy that he’d follow her but was relieved to see him lounging on the first step where she’d left him. His brows were drawn together in confusion and the hurt glittering in his eyes turned her stomach to lead.

“Okay that’s cool. I get it; I’m just the help. Well I’ve got a job to do anyways, a job I’m more than late for.”

“Wait!” She called to his retreating figure. Arabella squeezed her eyes shut praying that he hadn’t rounded the corner as the sound of heavy boots crunching through gravel gave way to silence.

“Yes?” Ruben answered after a pregnant pause.

“I’m sorry,” she called before slamming the door closed.

            The marble pillars placed through out the house dwarfed her as she made her way to the kitchen. The sterile room stunk of a nauseating mix of lemon floor polish and chemical bleach. Her mother had always been the cook- when she wasn’t off jet setting or being one of the West End’s hottest socialites. Since the funeral her father had been frequenting the local take-outs and the room sat unused, still kept at a crisp 68 degrees.

            Through the room’s large bay windows Arabella could make out the silhouettes of the workers hammering away at the new trellis. Despite the impending dusk the air-conditioning was working overtime and she wondered if the workers were thirsty. She knew her father kept his sacred pitcher of farmers market juice in the side door of their sleek Sub 0 fridge. With a tray laden high with napkins and juice Arabella let the screen slam shut behind her. Waddling across the vast expanse of freshly mowed lawn she made her way to the construction.

            The crew was presumably on break, whipping the sweat of their brows with bitts of terrycloth. When clearing her throat failed to grab the men’s attention she gently set her tray on a mobile workbench and clapped her hands together.

Arabella didn’t give pause as thirty pairs of eyes fixed their gaze on her.

“I brought some drinks, I know its hot so- yeah.”

            She turned on her heal and strode back to the main house without a further explanation. She could feel their eyes boring into her yet she was only aware of a certain pair of coco browns. The grass felt heavenly under the souls of her bare feet. Damp with dew her size sevens left little imprints in the grassy lawn forming a subtle trail behind her. It made her feel like little red ridding hood leading the big bad wolf to Granny’s except it wasn’t a wolf she was leading was it? She sensed Ruben before she actually saw him. Perspiration had turned his already dark hair jet-black and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning at him. She didn’t know the exact moment she let her guard fall, but she was certain that it had in fact fallen.

“Look I was wondering -“ “About earlier-,” They both blurted simultaneously.

“You first, “he motioned for her to continue.

“About earlier, I’m sorry if I came off as a bit of a bitch I’m not usually so…”

“High strung?” He finished.

Arabella gave a slight nod while fiddling with her ring. “Stop,” Ruben coaxed separating her twitching fingers from the silver.

“Stop what?” “You fidget with your ring when you’re nervous,” he explained with a shrug. Arabella could feel a blush blooming on her cheeks as she processed the statement. How had he already picked up on such a tiny mannerism? As if sensing her curiosity Ruben cleared his throat, “My sister used to do the same thing.”

She was instantly aware of his use of the past tense. “Used to?”

Ruben’s face went blank and she couldn’t decipher the impassive expression his once jovial face had transformed into. “We’re done for the night so I need to get going.”

            It was obvious she had pried too deep and she felt a pang of regret as he turned to leave.

“What was it you were going to say?” She called out in a rush.

Arabella stumbled as she attempted to match his long strides. The dim rays of evening light cast a glow on his caramel skin and she had to refrain from seeing if it was as soft as she remembered.

Arabella watched his mouth curve up as he shook his head ruefully.

“Nah it was nothing let it drop Celia.” Arabella’s heart skipped a beat at the endearment before she could scold her yearning self. How was this boy turning her into a jiggly pile of goop? She wracked her brain for the last tie she’d felt butterflies. Coming up blank she reckoned that the feeling was more like a stampede of wild elephants then a few dainty butterflies. The silence stretched on as she escorted him to where his bike stood waiting.

“Thanks for the juice, the guys and I really appreciated it. You’re not so bad for a gringa.”  The compliment drew a laugh from her and she felt her face splitting with a genuine smile.

“Gracias, same for you.” His cocked eyebrow extenuated the humor glittering in his dark eyes.

“I aint no gringo.” Ruben appeared amused, visibly relaxed now that the prying eyes of his fellow crew members had dissipated.

“Neither am I.”