Protection

Chapter 10

I have never really noticed how stifled I always feel until now. The atmosphere of this house alone makes me feel like a caged animal; I need to escape from the clutches of my parents' high standards and the impression of wealth.

This is not me.

"So," my mother starts, breaking me out of my reverie. "How was the party last night?"

This feels awkward. I didn't think that talking to my mom would ever be an uncomfortable situation for me, but when I don't speak to her for days or sometimes weeks on end, and when she seems to be more concerned with everything except me, well...

I shrug nonchalantly. "Fine..." Deciding that I don't want to get into details and mention my stab wound, I only bring up, "Four and I got attacked last night though."

Mom gasps and nearly drops the pan she is holding. After making sure to set it down on the stove, she rushes over to me, placing her hands on my shoulders and scanning my body frantically to find an injury. Wow, if only I had known that getting hurt would catch her attention. Although I should have figured that out the first time I was attacked, when my parents set everything aside for me for once.

"Oh, Beatrice!" she exclaims. "Are you hurt?!"

I laugh softly. "I'm okay. Four saved me."

She sighs in relief and kisses my forehead. And then I can't help but think of Four, and how he kissed me in the same place last night.

Where is he, anyway?

I wait for Mom to go back to her cooking before nonchalantly asking, "Hey, do you know where Four is?"

She turns back to me and hums thoughtfully. "I think your father let him go out for an hour or so," she answers. "To visit his mother or something."

"Oh."

Now I can't stop thinking about him. Even as I eat my breakfast and chat with my mom, his dark eyes somehow invade my mind, making me wish I was talking to him instead of her—and I see him a lot more often. This little "crush" I have had has turned into more than that, more like an obsession.

I want him to know that I like him, but I don't know how to approach him. He already admitted that he thought I was some hoe when he met me, and I need to prove to him that I am not like that. I need to be subtle and meaningful.

But God, every time I even cast a simple glance at him, I lose all thought and get caught up in ideas that are completely irrelevant to any given situation.

"What's on your mind, Beatrice?"

I snap out of my Four fantasies and shake my head dismissively before continuing to eat my pancakes, making sure to drown them in syrup. Washing it all down with orange juice, I say, "I want to ask you something."

Mom raises her eyebrows. "This sounds serious. Should I be nervous?"

Giggling mischievously, I shrug. "It's kind of serious. I just wanted to know something, for a hypothetical situation."

"Okay. Go on."

"Right. So..." I don't know how to really ask this, so I trail off and trace the rim of my glass while I think. Lately, I have been dreaming about this idea of having a relationship with Four, but I don't really know what that is like, or how I know I really feel something. Like sure, it was as if I was on top of the world to be with Peter for the first couple weeks, but now I don't know if I genuinely felt something there in the first place; I didn't really have a hard time leaving him in the end despite all the fun we had together.