A/N: This chapter is dedicated to
•••
The girls decided to break out of the park scene and took a trip down to a quaint bistro by the coast side, recommended by Andrea. The place had been worth the far mile from the district to reach and the view of the ferryboats cruising by piqued Cassandra's interest. Lydia not being fond of boat rides hung back while Andrea joined Cassandra to board.
Cassandra stayed the closest she was appropriately allowed to by the rails, observing the tame waves.
"So," started Andrea. "I heard from Lydia that you guys knew each other from East Chesterfield. What made you suddenly transfer here?"
Cassandra lifted a brow. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious." Andrea answered. "... Oh, did I just bring up a touchy subject?"
"Um, well..."
"Oh god. I did, didn't I? Look, forget I even asked."
"No no, it's okay." Cassandra assured. "I just never really told anyone because well, back home it would still be news and Lydia was worried it could ruin my fresh start here but that already got rocky so what the hell?"
She took a breath, gripping the rails as of a little boost. "Basically, my dad got caught having an affair with his secretary— cliché, I know. And the media and tabloids got a hold of it. Like, actual footage somebody recorded."
Cassandra dared herself to spare a glance to the girl and her expression resembled Mark's at the time. Only less grim since he'd gotten word earlier as it was the talk all over the street and papers. He opened the door and let her into his bedroom and held her the whole time Cassandra bawled out her eyes.
"I'd heard about that in the summer." Andrea muttered in befuddlement. "Yeah, the video was all over the place and I thought it was just a stunt. I mean, I didn't think somebody could be so bloody stupid to do it out in the open."
"I know right?"
"Holy shit, Cass. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was my mum who had it the worst."
Her mind reeled back in thought of those distraught days, to the extent there was a ghost of the gut wrench in her side when it first hit.
"The reporters and her so-called friends constantly harassing her on it like she was the one being unfaithful. Then dad didn't really do anything. He just said, 'It didn't mean anything, honey.' And bought her a new Prada bag."
An aching humourless laugh escaped Cassandra's lips as she recited it. "Like, that would fix everything. And he expected mum to go back to act as if it was all good."
"... Wow."
"He's the thickest man on the planet so, yeah. Not shocked that's how he got himself caught." Cassandra rifled a hand through her hair. The breeze picking up aided to fan out the sting in her eyes.
But the hand that held her shoulder did more. It reminded Cassandra's lungs how to take in the air as she heaved a haggard breath, the screaming she heard from her parent's room before the door slammed and her mother came storming out.
Cassandra always thought the woman was invincible until that night she found the great Miranda Lovett crying on the bathroom floor, her perfect makeup and hair in shambles. A big mess for the first time her daughter's eyes ever laid witness to it.
She never wanted to walk in on a sight like that again.
"But she's better now." Cassandra proclaimed. Both ignored the hoarseness of her voice. "My mummy's moved on and officially declared him as dead. Written up a eulogy and left flowers on a waste site in honouring his passing. It's all in the past."
The faint chuckle from the brunette came to be very much appreciated by Cassandra. She hated gloomy situations. Laughter did more comfort than silence.
"Maybe I should do the same for my dad. He didn't cheat on my mother though." Andrea hastily added. "But he's far from Father of the Year."
"What did he do?"
"I have an older brother, Jeffrey. He didn't want to go into the family business but he pursued it anyway. When he failed to get into the law school our parents went to, my dad disowned him."
"W-What? Just for that?"
Andrea nodded. "He takes strict to a whole new level. Called Jeffrey a failure and everyday, he has to put it to remind me that I can't let myself end up the same or I won't be welcome in his house anymore."
"Fuck, Andrea. That's, that's not okay."
"I know. But he'll never see it that way." Andrea's gaze fell into a hollow masking as her grip on Cassandra's shoulder tightened. "So I have to keep my head down and do as told. I have to succeed. And Coeus has a one hundred percent success rate in university applicants."
Cassandra quickly put the dots together. "That's why you're...?"
"Yeah." Andrea confirmed, already knowing what was on to be said. "Jeffrey was way smarter than me and only got backlashed for hanging with a 'bad crowd'. The law school only cares for image, nothing more. So this is my best shot and once I do get in, I'll do my time to earn my own living then get out of that bastard's house. He can write me out of his will for all I care. I'd much rather have my freedom than all the money in the world."
Freedom.
A word Cassandra had thrown around so much, thinking she'd been trapped in a prison of her own if her mother didn't let her dress how she liked for an outing. Or if she wasn't allowed to have dessert because she ate a biscuit before tea. It was all so ignorant, childish and blind.
Cassandra wanted to kick herself. She hadn't a clue of what it was truly liked to be caged. To be so confided and deprived of liberty to do as she wished.
Andrea had only revealed a glimmer of what that suffocating world she walked in everyday and that alone was enough for Cassandra to see the distance of where they stood on freedom.
She clasped her hand on the one Andrea offered to console and gave it a gentle squeeze.
It worked to prompt the brunette to tear her listless gaze from the water beneath them and face Cassandra.
"Then I'll help you in whatever way I can to do that." Cassandra said solemnly. "I give you my word, Andrea and a Lovett, keeps her word."
Despite the clouds still harbouring in the Andrea's eyes which would only lift with time, she graced Cassandra with a smile.
**
Garren awoke to the sound of a thumping at his door. Abnormal heat clung to his abdomen and he gave the heavy comforter a hefty shove to the side. His bare chest was revealed to the cool air flowing from the open arched window, running a chill down his spine. He yawned.
The thumping repeated.
Lazily fumbling around, he recovered his robe and slipped it on. Rubbing out the grogginess in his eyes, he proceeded to the door, feet padding along the polished flooring and he unhinged the handle.
Her hair was straightened, ebony locks framing those dark copper eyes bore into him almost as though magnetic. It spiked his pulse without restrain, an effect that hadn’t changed since he first encountered her.
These recent days, he could practically feel her watchful countenance without her physically being in the room. Her sardonic voice, the mention of her name or the ever frequent transgressions of his thoughts that strayed illogically to recall her face. Everyday, without fail.
Stevie stood before him wearing her usual patchwork rags she called clothes.
He didn't understand why she settled to keep the 'mundane look'. The girl could have a cargo of nouveau brand threads by a call to her industry connections or seducing her latest romance for even some accessories. Actually, he did understand why but it didn't make it easier on the eyes.
She suddenly frowned at him, staring as if he was the one banging on her door at an early hour.
"Well?" He folded his arms. "Aren't you going to say good morning then?"
"You were just thinking something snide about my outfit, weren't you?"
He released a breath. "Why do you always assume I'm going to say something bad?"
"Because you are."
He reached out his hand and held her jaw, mushing her cheeks as he made her mouth move like a ventriloquist. " 'Good morning, Garren. Tell me, how is it possible you look more handsome every day?'"
She swatted his hand away, sending him daggers.
"Oh why thank you, Stevie. You see, the thing they call beauty sleep is a wise tale. What's standing right in front of you is simply my natural genes to defy all beliefs that a man's attractiveness can ever reach a limit."
Stevie scoffed, "Dear Christ, did I actually leave my bed on a Sunday for this?"
"Yes. Yes you did."
Her sharp eyes narrowed. "Then maybe I should just go back." She twirled around.
Garren quickly held her shoulders and spun her back. "Excuse me for wanting a little repayment when somebody I went all the way down to a dingy train station for doesn't show until three days later and never apologised."
"Why should I apologise? I told you Benji kept crying if I tried to leave and I didn’t was his fever getting worse."
"All you had to do was wait for him to fall asleep. The boy is three. He'd be out before the end of a nursery rhyme."
"Oh and for a second there I thought you were going to tell me to do something absolutely ridiculous."
"Well that's why it's good to listen til the end."
"You're never going to just admit what happened was your own fault for ignoring what I said and waiting there, are you?"
"Are you ever going to apologise for turning off your phone?"
"No."
"Then no."
"Great, we finally agree on something."
Stevie was the first to crack a smile, shaking her head. They way the shine in her eyes would glimmer too at the action, his greatest assurance it was real, unlike the many ones she forged around others brought its own unique thrill to witness for him.
She raised her arms to throw over his shoulders. At the instant touch of her warmth, his body would yield to lean in as if a starved flame desperate to feel more. He circled his arm around her waist, where it so perfectly lined up against his own without effort. Goosebumps prickled her bronze skin where he let his lips brush the crook of her neck, "You always keep me waiting,” he whispered. “It's becoming a bad habit, Powell."
He felt her smaller frame reverberate against his chest when chuckles submerged from her lips. Then there was a pause.
"Garren?"
"Mmhmm?"
"Is that girl dead?"
"... What?" He shifted to face where Stevie had her eyes on something by the foot of his bed. Or to be more exact, someone.
Her umber hair masking half her snoozing face, body lying limply with the awkward composure evidently pointing to rolling off. Garren quickly discovered why his comforter had felt so oddly fleshy.
"She's fine."
Stevie merely raised a brow. He forced himself to withdraw and waltzed over to his walk-in closet for some other bottoms. He wanted to avoid dealing with that nuisance as long as possible. Even if it meant an unpunctual shower like some bum.
When he'd reemerged, Stevie was marvelling at the room and he realised it was the first time she'd been inside the space. Inside what a real king's domain looked like.
He'd have brought her round more frequently to show it off and watch those opaque eyes light up in awe of the mastery interior. He knew she'd adore everything in it but those opportunities were slim. She strongly objected to wandering in a house without greeting the mister and misses properly first. She was raised in that deranged upbringing of manners.
Why couldn't she just not give a damn like everybody else? The only reason she'd complied this morning was because Will pleaded with his signature doe eyes and whined about how much he missed her and how he wanted to binge watch this new popular show together as a group. Stevie inevitably caved.
For a pansy, he sure knew how to seduce a girl.
"You actually have two closets and a wardrobe," she absentmindedly mutter in bemusement.
He stood silently and observed her eyes scan the room intently, doing his best to give it time until finally, she saw it. Stevie's radar paused on the narrow full length mirror by the wall, head tilting.
As usual, she didn't disappoint.
Stevie drew closer, regarding her reflection at first. As well as she aimed to act indifferent for the masses and halfwits at school in the beginning, he'd noticed the extra grooming. The constant adjusting to her garments and longing stares. She liked what looked back at her. A lot. Maybe almost as much as he liked watching her be enchanted by herself.
Subconsciously, she ironed out the collar of her blouse with her hands and snapped out of her trance. Training herself diligently to not get lost too deep if she wasn't alone. She glanced to him. "I know you're narcissistic but odd place to put a mirror."
"Really?"
"You'd have to look around just to notice it and I'd think you would want the first thing to lay eyes on is that stupid face."
Garren wired a grin. "And that means...?"
Stevie pursed her lips, working the gears in that peculiar brain that he theorised God solely crafted to entertain him. "What's it for?"
"Nothing,” said Garren. "But behind it, there's the other room."
There it was. The spark. The spark of curiosity.
"Other room?"
"Where I keep the piano and the model railway trainset."
Stevie's brows hiked. "You? Play with toy trains?"
"My dad had it. Kind of grew on me."
"A secret shame?"
"No."
"Then why store it in a hidden room?"
"Ben."
"Ah, of course." Stevie bobbed her head in understanding.
"I get the feeling you're familiar with them too?"
She nodded. "I found a gauge in one of my mum's bags. Said it came from one of the residents who lived in her former home. She thought of selling it but I got a little interested and would look up the models online. Just to see how the complete set would look like. Then imagining building it, pressing the buttons and stuff."
"Wow. That's... sad."
"Shut up." She hissed with a hollow glare. "You probably just had your maids do all the work."
"Of course not. I'd never let mortgage indebted and Ivy League rejects put their fingers anywhere near a classic piece."
"Charming." The brunette said dryly. "What set? Hornby? Bachman? I feel like your dad would be a Bachman."
"It's Lionel."
If it weren't for the fact that she was clad in grisly drywall jeans, Garren was certain her panties would've dropped.
"You're kidding."
"Not kidding."
Stevie Powell was the epitome of a geek, through and through. She grew giddy, hands clasping over her mouth as she tried not to hyperventilate. "C-Can I take a peek?"
"Later." He forced himself to answer.
"Why?"
"I don't need the human comforter waking up on us. It can get quite loud, the walls aren't sound proof."
"Oh." When Stevie's face fell, it chewed up at him, just a little. "Well can't we just kill her or something?"
He walked over to the sulky girl, cupping her smooth cheeks. At least she used the lotions and let her skin have luxury.
"I can tell you're not serious but believe me when I say, nobody else would." He kissed the psychopath on her temple, taking her by her hand and departing his chamber.
There wouldn't be any time to even show her all the other private rooms he knew she'd love as they cruised the floors but this morning would have to do. He'd need to sustain himself on this and bribe her with the other treasures carefully so she wouldn't pick up on his scheme. If everything went smoothly, she'd grow too antsy to wait to visit regardless of his parents again.
Then he could have some real, uncontained fun in this abyss with all three of his Aces whenever he wanted, however he wanted.
"Y'know it took me ten minutes to find your room." confessed Stevie.
"Did Benny give you directions?"
"That was a big mistake, wasn't it?"
"Very."
They found the unreliable navigator in the second floor TV room, or as the dummy deemed to call it the 'Bachelor Pad'. His fuck boy logic at its finest. As Garren predicted, Benny had already made himself comfortable on the rouge recliner, Derbys off and Sony-Plex flat screen projecting Mario Kart.
Garren scoured for a tall blonde but came up empty. "Where's Will?"
"WHAT?!" screeched the imbecile who had the volume on the headphones set to max, as usual.
See, the mere fact Garren was standing less than a metre away from him yet couldn't be heard, should be enough indication the speakers were on too high but instead of turning it down, the retard screamed like a banshee. It was that sort of moronic thing that usually had Garren ready to drive his foot into the dipshit's balls. Which Benny generously had displayed by his spread legs, but Garren was in an objectively good mood.
So he left it with a light smack upside the scatterbrain's head.
"His car hasn't gotten here yet." Stevie supplied.
Garren's brows knitted. "You guys didn't come together?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"There's only enough room on Ben's bike for one passenger."
"... What?"
"I came on Ben's bike."
"Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
Stevie sighed. "Don't make a big deal over it."
Garren was already glaring down to the instigator of the madness, yanking off the headphones and narrowing his eyes. "You brought that life endangering piece of junk into my house?"
Ben's shoulders hunched as he wore that vexing, oblivious disposition on his face. "Well I can't exactly take it off, it's stuck on me."
Garren resisted rolling his eyes, which was a feat on its own. He wasn't letting himself have a migraine this early. "I'm not talking about your dick this time, Benny." He spoke slowly.
Incredibly, that hadn't been solid enough for the sex-driven monkey to use his thick head to find the alternative as his face scrunched in confusion.
"He means by your motorcycle." Stevie chimed.
"Oh..."
"And I don't see what's so wrong with it. The death toll of car accidents are much higher than motorbikes, Garren."
"That's because there are less motorcycles, genius. That's simple primary level maths. Or perhaps in public schools they still had you taught to be colouring within the lines." Garren sneered. "And do you know why there are less motorcycles? Because most of the population value their safety over looking 'cool'."
"It's not about looking cool."
"It isn't?" interjected Ben.
"No. Okay, maybe a little." She admitted. "But it's also a fun experience and nice change of pace. No to mention, Benny is an excellent driver."
She came over to award the idiot with a ruffle of the hair. Garren could’ve ignored the twinge inside if not for broad, beaming grin flashed across the Ben's face.
It was quickly snuffed out when Garren struck him down with a glare far more lethal than knowing it was just going to be a kick to his balls. "You take buses, what would you know about good driving?"
Stevie rolled her eyes and she seized the headphones, slipping it back to Ben who immediately reverted eyes to the game now that she was playing as his defense. "Don't pick on Benny just because he has a skill that you don't."
The nerve.
Garren scoffed. "It's not skill. It's a perk of being the son of the biggest airline and motor company in England— those brown nosers would've let him get a license even if he were blindfolded and went butt naked."
"Oh, then when your parents decide to let you take driving lessons you're saying you can do better?"
"Undoubtedly."
"Okay, then since my birthday is in November let's take driving lessons together and see who does better. How's that sound?" She stuck out her hand.
He slipped it with his. "When you lose this, you have to swear never to go on that thing again."
"If I lose." She emphasised. "Then sure."
"Good. We have a deal."
"A deal for what?" sprang an external voice.
Will's tall figure poked through the door. The curiosity peeked past the light, golden bangs that fell over his eyes. "What did I miss?"
"Just Garren agreeing to take driving lessons together." explained Stevie.
"Oh. Interesting. Um, why?"
"Because you failed to be the responsible one and let Ben drag her on to his motor of mass destruction."
All the colour drained from Will's face. His jaw slacked and eyes bulging. "He did what?!"
Stevie groaned. "Oh my god, not you too. What's the big deal here? It was just a ride."
"J-Just a...?" Will's expression tensed into a grimace. "Oh god, no. No, no no no. How—? When did this happen?"
"Like, twenty minutes ago." Stevie estimated. "Would you relax? He was very careful when turning and kept to a moderate speed the whole time—"
"Okay, okay stop talking please. I do not need to hear any details! No."
"See? Even Will knows how ridiculous this is." Garren vindictively boasted.
"Ridiculous?" Stevie parroted. "You're the ones who are ridiculous. Motorcycles are just as safe to drive as any other vehicles on the road."
Will paused. His brows pinching. "Wait, motorcycles?"
"Yes. So you two need to quit making a fuss over it."
"No wait, sorry hang on. Hang on... you guys are talking about Ben's motorcycle?"
Garren glanced to the brunette stood before him, mirroring his quizzical expression to the redundancy.
"Yeah."
"Of course."
"What... did you think we're talking about?" probed Stevie.
Will averted his gaze, lips pressed together and cheeks tinged pink.
**
The next hour was spent engaged in competing through multiplayer video games the four could find. Even without the headset, Ben was still yelling just as insufferably loud but Garren didn't mind it since the earlier event that occurred still had him in stitches.
"I can't believe you thought I had sex with this guy." Stevie jerked a thumb to the who had half of his Spongebob boxers visible by him crawling along the carpet an inch closer to the screen each minute.
Will's face flushed again. "I'm sorry, all right? It's not my fault we live in a world where people have a billion euphemisms for the male genitalia."
Stevie shook her head. "But still, who uses terms like that for their friend's penis?"
"I find it's a pretty fitting term." proclaimed Garren.
"It's outrageous."
"Well tell me, what does your boyfriend call yours?"
Will bit his lip to suppress the laugh while Ben didn't hold back, rolling over as the snickers barrelled out. If there was one time when the girl’s eyes grew most lively were in instances such as this. Instances where Garren couldn't wait to see what she'd hurl at him, physically or verbally.
Only for it to be intervened by an intruding voice. "Gary, darling?"
All heads turned to the body that had been mistaken as a comforter. She was the exact opposite, ironically. Her nightgown sloppy and obviously deliberate it by how contradicting her groomed hair that nobody got from just tumbling out of bed. Not even him. It made Garren wish he had taken Stevie up on the suggestion to murder her.
"So this is where you ran off to. You didn't mention your mates were coming over." She smiled. It faltered when she took in an unfamiliar face. "Oh, hi."
Immediately, Stevie wired on a smile, gaze portraying keenness. "Hi." Her voice small.
Small enough to make the other girl feel secure that she stood taller in every sense. She returned Stevie’s greeting with a smile that was sincere, free of worry. "Gary care to introduce us?"
"No."
Stevie smacked his arm far lighter than he knew she could do damage. "My name's Stevie."
"I'm Elizabeth."
"It's very nice to meet you, Elizabeth." Stevie replied.
"You too." She said, indiscreetly giving Garren looks. "You guys look like you're having fun."
"Wanna play?" asked Stevie.
"Oh, no I never play this stuff."
"That's okay," Stevie assured. "I don't really know what I'm doing either. It's just for fun, y'know? You can have my spot. I'm on Gary's team." The sugary layer she added on the addressing was a sweet diabetic coma of icing, sensitive to Garren's ears.
"Alright." Elizabeth accepted. "I'll go freshen up."
Stevie nodded, keeping her upturned lips in place until she was certain the other girl was out of ear shot. Scrutiny traded the honey sweet façade as she spoke, "Who was that?"
"Sandy Grover's daughter. Good friend of my mother's." answered Garren.
"She was in Berlin before, right?" recalled Will.
"Yeah, she's visiting for a month. Early internship business thing or something." muttered Garren.
"When did you start shagging her?" asked Benny.
"He's not." Stevie beat him into replying, causing the other two to draw quizzical faces.
"That's why you're wondering who she is and why she was in my bed, right?" gathered Garren.
"Yeah."
"Wait, your bed?" bawled Will. If Stevie had her tells on his sexual exploits perfectly memorised, then the blonde knew Garren's routine like the back of his hand.
Garren never brought any of those hook ups and dates into there. That was exclusive territory and he could tell Will was mostly alarmed that Garren had acted so calm when an outsider dared to trespass on that sacred ground.
Garren was partially shocked by how calm he was too. He hadn't been in such a good mood like this in a long time.
"I don't get it," chimed Ben, "if you're not shagging her, why is she in your bed?"
"Because she'd been following me around since yesterday and seems highly convinced that because our mothers are such good friends, she gets special treatment. I didn't think the girl would actually crawl in my bed but, yeah."
"Isn't that concerning?" questioned Will, appalled.
"Tell her that. I'm only tolerating her for my mother’s sake and she'll be gone by five o'clock."
Will's shoulders sagged. "How are we meant to watch the show? I don't want her around trying to bang you with her eyes the whole time."
"We can cover the blinds." Garren offered.
The blonde was visibly unsatisfied with the comment by the eye roll. He jutted his bottom lip in that pout. The pout that was scarily one of the most diabolic triggers Garren had ever known but the worst thing was, Will wasn't oblivious to its effectiveness.
And Stevie, as peculiar as she was, was no exception to its powers.
"Hold on." She started. "Let me have a quick word with her."
Garren rose a brow. "A word? If you say anything she doesn't like, she'll run crying to her folks."
"I'm just going to ask her nicely, Gary." Her voice didn't match the look in her eyes.
Not one bit.
She rose up from her seat, delicately running a hand along Will's hair and her figure descended, leaving a still silence in her wake. All banter ceased, the only audible noise being the button bashing, the battling machine guns onscreen and the over the top gritty background music.
"Maybe I'm remembering this wrongly," began Will. “But did Elizabeth normally listen when people ask?"
"Never."
"Ah. Didn't think so."
They waited a second longer before all three rushed out of the room and crept along the halls of the hollow spaces until they heard voices from the bathroom in the boroughs of his territory. The three were closing in, the voices on the other side becoming distinguishable. Before Garren could perceive what words were being shared, the doors flung open.
Ben jolting at the abruptness and clung to the equally as stirred Will. Umber hair and jeans with an unbuttoned shirt came to view. It appeared Elizabeth was in the midst of putting something on.
Her eyes were raw in exposure, jumping and looking just as rattled to see them. "U-Uh, what is it?"
"We wanted to have the maids prepare some snacks." Garren claimed, hastily studying her body language.
Jittered, nerved and a little something else from how her eyes stayed to the floor.
"You want anything in particular?" Garren questioned.
"No. Um, I'll be going home now."
"Oh?" He feigned disappointment. "How come?"
At that, the dark haired little she-devil reared her head. "Oh. What are you guys doing out here?"
"Getting snacks." piped Ben. "Definitely nothing else." Like he couldn't be more obvious, he sent Garren a thumbs up.
Garren ignored it.
"Anyway, see you later." Elizabeth said briskly and made hurried steps over to the spare room she was temporarily occupying to collect her things.
All eyes fell to the perpetrator of the nuisance's sudden change.
"Okay, what the hell did you say to her?" Will questioned.
Stevie shrugged. "Nothing really. So, snacks?"