Without the Love

Chapter 21

A/N: Heeeyy lovely reader!(: I'm sorry for the short chapter, I just need to include Chace's POV. The next upcoming chapters will be longer, you can count on that. Enjoy!

Chace’s POV

One of the things that piss me off is handing a fake smile in front of me. The way Cheyanne “smiled” to me is a great example. Her lips didn’t curve all the way through and her eyes showed no emotion. If you stand next to her, you immediately feel the troubled vibe from her.

I know she isn’t acting the bubbly, angry, annoying self I know by now. Why cover up with a fake smile on how you feel? I can see right through anyone from the way they talk, act, and look. I should know, I’ve seen it several times.  I could be an expertise of investigating people’s troubles. 

What is she hiding that she doesn’t want me to know? Do I have no right to find out? I mean we don’t exactly get along so well, but we’re definitely getting somewhere better than before. She still has the attitude, but she controls it more than she use to.

Why do I even care? Is it the fact that I, once again, caught someone being fake and feel angry for it? It specifically said I wouldn’t get attached and I know I’m not. Fuck no. If she wants to say something, then she will. But if she continues to lie and start acting fake around me, I’ll stand my ground and find out the truth out of her. It isn’t hard anyway. Been through it before.

I look at the view Cheyanne has from her room and it outlooks the driveway of her house and neighborhood. It’s a decent view, green grass here, gate there. No sign of creepy neighbors like mines. Her house is different compared to the ones surrounding hers. The house is bigger and elegant, but structured in a way to make it fit in with the rest. Not to say the rest are ugly in anyway. The houses down the street are just as fucking expensive as this one. I guess her house is  like the topping of an ice cream or bow to a present. Her neighborhood is exquisite, let’s end it with that. 

“Hey Chace,”

I turn to look at Cheyanne wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt. 

“What happened to the clothes I picked?” She shoves the clothes I picked back into her drawer and raises her eyebrows at me. Do I have awful choices?

“Isn’t a little too...inappropriate for this weather?”

I thought it would look hot on her. I could walk with her and be pleased with what I see, but she is right. It’s too chilly to walk out like that.

“Fine.” I take a moment to look at what she is wearing again when she’s not looking. 

Simplicity is sexy...if and only if it’s worn the right way. The black jeans fits her like a glove and her loose shirt goes with her frame. How lame do I sound. I’m no fashioner. 

“By the way, here’s your blanket. It’s washed. Bacteria free just for you.” She tosses the blue material at me. 

“I feel special.”

“How long have you been in denial?” She tries to cover up the smile that wants to be plastered onto her face. Very funny.

“Sooo, what is it that you were going to tell me when you walked in?”

She looks at me confused. “I forgot.”

“As usual.” My phone vibrates in my pocket, signaling a new message.

Chace, I hope you do remember it’s your turn to pick up your sister from her ballet lesson. -Mom

Shit. Forgot about that little punk. A few minutes wouldn't hurt right?

“Oh, I remember now!” Cheyanne snaps her fingers and points at me. “I gotta pick up Belle from class.” She looks around her room. “You can stay here, not in my room, until I get back and then we can write our report.”

“Class? Saturday school for kids? What did she do?”

“No, not like that.” Cheyanne rolls her eyes. “She takes ballet and my mom told me to pick her up right now.” She grabs her keys and black coat from the wall hook and walks out of the room.

“Wait.” I jog out and grab her arm before she could descend down the stairs. “Which one?”

“The only youth ballet studio around, D.Y.B, Driven Youth Ballet.”

“Well it looks like I’ll be going there too. Race you.” I walk pass her, but she grabs my shirt from behind. 

“Wait what?”

“My sister goes there too. I need to get her.” Cheyanne mouths an ‘oh’. I start walking down the steps, but Cheyanne stops in front of me. “What now?”

“Can we just car pool?”

“You trust me to drive your little sister?” I smirk at her while she has second thoughts. 

“Never mind. Bad idea.” She starts skipping down the rest of the steps. 

I’m offended. There’s nothing wrong with my damn driving. “I am a great driver.”

“You mean reckless.”

“No. You drive like an old person who shouldn’t drive.” 

"I wonder how you passed your test."

"Easy. Pick a female to test you and seduce her. In your case, a male."

“Sure.” She smiles at me and I know she’s going along with it. Easy going now? 

Right before she steps off the last step, I swoop her up and have her over my shoulder, one of the things she hates. My laughter drowns her squeals and demands to put her down. 

She has no power against me.