His Identity

14

|Aveline's POV|

'I'll help you find out what happened to your dad,' he said.

Yeah, no.

That was bullshit.

I should've known he was just 'messing with me' as he put it. It was really fucking stupid of me to assume that he'd even help.

Screw this. Screw him.

I've been waiting a whole week now. I haven't seen him nor heard of him ever since he so nicely offered his help.

I guess I was actually expecting for him to help even though there was this part of me that was telling me he wasn't about to help because he's so full of shit.

"God, I'm exhausted," Nat complains as she slams the glass on the table.

"Same," I mutter, my hand going to my hair as I loosen the hairband. My head's hurting like hell. We've had a long night. We've been working all night, it's now around four in the morning and we're alone in the bar, having closed the place fifteen minutes ago.

"I've been wondering..." She begins and I turn to look at her. She flashes me a smirk, "remember how you and Nick came in the same car at the same time in the tattoo parlour and actually had a decent conversation?"

I roll my eyes at the look she's sending me, already knowing where this is going.

I really don't wanna talk about that asshole right now.

"What about it?"

"I couldn't help but wonder if there's something going on between you—" I don't let her finish her sentence, almost immediately cutting her off, "— absolutely not! No—" I shake my head, "we're not anything. Nothing's going on between us, okay? I can barely stand the guy."

"Yeah, sure. I totally believe you," her voice is filled with sarcasm. "Nick, he who never bothers to talk to anyone except Zale and Rhys—" she points to herself, "not even me— asks you whether you wanted a ride. I'm telling you, he's into you."

"Don't even go there," I scoff, "it's stupid and unrealistic."

"It's a possibility," she shrugs making me sigh. "I haven't seen him in a week. He just disappeared again. Don't you think it's weird how often he does that? Or weird, in general?"

"Well—" she tilts her head to the side and pulls at her bottom lip as she contemplates a reply, "usually, yes. I do find him weird. I do wonder why he is so closed off— mysterious, you know? But I don't think much about it because I know something horrible has happened to that guy. It's so obvious. He's clearly protecting himself by acting the way he does and that's understandable and none of my business, really. And yeah, I think it's weird that he disappears very often but not this time because I know where he went."

"Do you?" I ask out of curiosity, "where?"

"He went to see his family, I don't where," she answers with a small shrug, "since he misses them."

"Really?" Somehow, I find that hard to believe. I smell bullshit.

"Yep," she nods as I hum, "did he tell you that?"