Like Rapunzel, but Not Really ✔

Chapter 14

I waved my hands in denial. "No, no, it's a long story but basically he stays in his dorm but sometimes babysits when my cousin is away," I tried to condense the story but I figured, with absolutely zero context, it was probably still confusing for her.

Dropping her voice to a low tone, Penelope whispered into my ear, "Okay, but you know there're rumours going around saying he is with the mob, right? And honestly, at school, he's that loner everyone just runs away from because he just has this scary aura around him that screams murder."

I looked at Tristan who was obviously witnessing us gossiping about him right under his nose.

Awkwardly, I whispered into Penny's ears back, "He's actually really nice," I defended Tristan, before continuing, "I think maybe you guys need to get to know him better."

Not even sparing Tristan her glance, she whispered back to me, "I don't know. At the expense of getting murdered? I don't think so."

"Penny, I trust him. Don't worry."

We both looked at Tristan who was becoming increasingly annoyed by our unabashed backbiting.

I whispered to Penny, "I think I have to go now."

"Okay, me too, actually. I ditched my friend to come and talk to you."

I smiled gratefully to Penny and her effort to seek me out before I turned that smile to Tristan and stood up. "Okay, let's go back!"

Tristan just stared at me bemusedly before turning to go.

I said goodbye to Penny, but not before giving her Hunter's number so she could contact me via him next time. I was not letting this girl out of my sight, no more.

"For the record," I said to Tristan once I managed to catch up with his strides, "I was defending you."

If he heard me, he was doing a good job at ignoring me. 

"Hey, how about we finish that meal we were making just now?" I tried again.

"Hm." He grunted in response.

"Okay... How about spaghetti, eh? We can still turn that sauce into spaghetti sauce?" I wiggled my eyebrows.

His lip was still a long line of non-committal silence and a scowl continued it's etch on his face. 

"Come on, what self-respecting Italian does not like Italian food?" I continued my attempt at making him talk to me. But if the fact that he was stalking off in front me was of any indication, I'd say I had failed spectacularly.

Suddenly he stopped and turned around. Scowling, he said to me, "I'm half Italian."

My eyes blinked a few times as I watched him resume his strides to the exit. I grinned before rushing to catch up to him. 

Tristan Caffarelli was sulking. 

And it was kind of cute.

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"Okay, here's what I think, I'll make extra and then you can bring some back for you to eat at school." I looked at Tristan who was watching the pasta boil over. An image of us playing house invaded my mind and I shook it away before it turned weird.

"Okay, but not too much because we don't have our own fridges," he said as he drained the pasta at the sink.

"Alright, then. I think I have a container somewhere here," I started rummaging the cupboard. The smell of tomato and basil was lingering in the air and it felt a little bit like comfort and home.

"Hunter's taking a long time, though," I voiced the one small worry I had lingering at the back of my mind.

"He'll be fine." Tristan said simply. Somehow, his assuring tone was always sufficient to quell me from anxiety. "But if you are worried, just give him a call." 

I nodded and decided to do just that.

He didn't pick up at my first call attempt. I bit my lip in slight worry and tried again.

"Hey, I'm just getting out of the cab. I'll be up in 5."

Inwardly, I sighed a little in relief. "Okay, dinner's ready so hurry up or we're gonna finish off everything." I was lying - there was no way we could. I overestimated my portions, as always, and ended up with way too much pasta.

For having an Italian sous chef helping me out, Tristan was really unhelpful.

"Yeah..." Hunter trailed on the phone. For some reason he did not sound thrilled at the prospect of eating. But instead of lingering on the subject via phone, I decided to just confront him when he got up and promptly ended the call.

Sure enough, 5 minutes later, the door opened and a disheveled looking Hunter entered.

I grimaced at his state - the police interrogation must have been arduous. 

Both Tristan and I followed Hunter's heavy movement into the house before he stopped himself in front of the couch. His hazel eyes weighed on me heavily. I was nervous at my cousin's display of sudden seriousness. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then seemed to change his mind last second and just closed his eyes and sighed, instead. 

"Are you okay, Hunter?" I asked, very alarmed at this unnaturalness that was him. The only time I had seem him this serious was when Grand'mere found out about what Hunter did to her pet vulture. 

"Ari, I think I really fucked up this time."