His Name Is Trouble

3. Too much.

Chapter 3: Too much.

"Do you have another son that I don't know about, because if it's Zachary, you're joking." I tell them.

"He's acting out again. We need a nice girl like you to tame him." Mr. Henderson tells me.

Tame him?

"A mental asylum can tame him. I am no rehabilitation center, neither am I a shrink nor a therapist, get him one." I tell him.

Their plan is insane.

"I beg of you." Mrs. Henderson says, holding my hand.

"That's the same way I begged your son not to lock me in that apartment building." I say in anger.

I know you're wondering what I am going off about, I'll explain.

When Zachary and I dated, he got himself involved with gangs, petty theft and drugs. For a rich kid like him, his gang members used him for everything he had to his name. He was like a bank that always left its vaults open, signaling the thieves to come in. He started using drugs and had a hard time remembering anything. I, being stupid as hell, tried to help him stop this addiction, but my plan sort of backfired.

So, one day we got into an argument and I flushed his drugs down the toilet. He got angry and left the apartment. He took the keys leaving me locked in. Minutes later, the building was on fire and I had to hang from a window for fifteen minutes before the fire department arrived.

"We need a nice girl like you." Mr. Henderson repeats.

"I'm not going through the torture of dating your son again. I hope you understand." I say, not wanting to listen to reason.

"It's fine. We don't need you anyway." Mrs. Henderson says, glaring at me.

She can go to hell and meet her brother, Satan.

What a bitch.

"Shall we?" Mr. Henderson asks his wife.

"We most certainly shall." She tells him and they leave the kitchen.

The audacity.

These rich people think they can do whatever they want. They are so ruthless and headstrong.

"What did they say?" My mother asks as she walks inside the kitchen.

"Nothing important." I reply, not wanting her to worry about me.

"In that case, I'll be in my room." My mother says, before she turns on her heel, leaving the kitchen.

***

"Zachary!" I call out as I walk down the school halls.

Zachary turns backwards and looks at me before he starts running.

"Hey!" I scream. I walk faster and I catch up with him.

"Aww, she's chasing me." Zachary says in a childish tone.

"Don't flatter yourself, Dumbo." I tell him, as I nudge him in his side with my elbow.

"Ow, that hurt." He says, whining like a little girl.

"We need to talk." I tell him with my hand on my waist.

"What is it? Shoot." He says rocking back and forth on his heel.

The school bell rings and students immediately troop out of their various classes. I had a free period that's why I'm already in the hallway.

"Um, I have football practice right now." Zachary says, turning to go.

"Oh okay. Um, I'll text you." I tell him.

He waves me goodbye and walks in the opposite direction.

That boy is something else.

I walk over to my locker and I pick up my phone. I have three missed calls waiting for me.

They're all from Hannah.

I search for her name in my contact list and I call her.

"Oh My God!!!" Hannah says through the phone.

"What?" I ask her.

"There's a sale going on at the mall, right now." She tells me and I put my hand on my forehead.

"So, you called me three times to tell me this?" I ask her through the receiver.

"Hell yeah, I don't want my bestie to miss out on all the fun." She squeals through the phone.

"Well, that's really sweet but I'm not going." I say.

"Aww rats." She says, disappointment clear in her voice.

"Maybe next time. I have a paper to write and I need to sleep." I tell her, complaining about my problems.

"You're no fun." She screams before hanging up.

That girl, I'll show her.

I pick up my backpack from my locker and I head outside to wait for my chauffeur, Andrè. It's windy outside and I instantly regret leaving my windbreaker on my bed.

Thirty minutes later, Andrè still hasn't shown up. I glance over to the other side of school where I see the football team practicing. I walk over to the football pitch and I seat on the bleachers. I watch Zachary run around the field with the ball in his hand. He makes a touchdown, right before he is tackled by his teammates.

"Touchdown!" Coach Milton shouts from the other side of the field.

I clap my hands and Zachary notices my presence. He runs over to where I am seated, the iron railing separating us. I stand up from my seat and I put my hand on the cool metal.

"Nice job." I tell him, smiling.

"Oh, you noticed." He says smirking.

"If you're expecting me to massage your ego, forget it." I tell him.

"Well, your opinion is the only one that matters, so." He says, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue.

"Oh, is that so?" I reply shyly.

"Well, you said you had something to tell me?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Hey Henderson!!! Get back here!!!" Coach Milton yells.

"Um, I'll just tell you later." I say, turning to the go.

"No, no, no. Um, how about we go out tonight, you can tell me then." He suggests.

"I...don't know if that's a good idea, Zachary." I say debating if I should go with what my mind wants or what my heart wants.

"Just say yes." He pesters.

"Sure." I say, giving in.

He kisses my cheeks before he strides back to the field to meet up with his team.

Going out with Zachary seems very risky, but I have to tell him about his parent's visit to my house. And also find out if he has anything to do with it.

I walk back to the front of the school building. A black town car is waiting patiently by the edge of the sidewalk.

Andrè walks out of the car and opens the door for me. I tell him not to worry about closing it, but he doesn't listen. He waits for me to get seated then he closes the door. He treats me like I'm royalty and sometimes it's just too much.