“We’ll see.” Kal glances down. “Your shirt is covered in blood.”
Obviously.
“Anything else, Captain Obvious?”
It’s hard to tell, because it’s dark, but I could’ve sworn Kal smiled at me for a second. He opens his mouth to say something else when the front door opens and West walks back inside. He looks me over.
“You should get some sleep,” he says.
“I was asleep until somebody woke me up. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.” I hold up the gun that is at my side.
“I’m going back to bed,” Kal says.
West doesn’t pay him any attention, he just watches me.
“So, you like watching other people, is that it?” West asks.
“What?” I shake my head, confused by what he’s saying.
“You like watching other people make out. I mean, it’s cool. I’m not going to judge. But I don’t like being watched,” he says.
My mouth falls open.
Certainly he’s not serious.
“You ruined my favorite chair and now you accuse me of being some weird nymphomaniac that likes to watch other people make out.”
He chuckles. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”
I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.
I feel dirty that West just called me out for watching him kiss that girl.
Why did I watch?
He holds up a finger. “One, I never called you a nymphomaniac. Though, it does have a nice ring to it, but I’ll stick to Princess for now.” He holds up another finger. “Two, you obviously like to watch or else you wouldn’t have stood there so long. It was a good two minutes.”
“Thirty seconds at best,” I counter.
“Thirty seconds is still a long time.”
He’s got me there.
I press my lips tightly together, not saying anything.
“By the way, thanks for scaring Helen. That girl couldn’t wait to be rid of me after you told her about a fake rash.
I laugh so hard that I snort. “Her name was Heidi, not Helen.”
Even he cracks a grin. “Honestly, she was kind of annoying, anyway.” He cringes. “She kept giggling.”
“Kal said you don’t like blondes.” I don’t know why that, out of everything, is what I chose to say, but I’m not going to take it back now.
He takes a step forward, pushing a piece of hair out of my face. “Go to sleep, Princess.”
But I have no plans on stepping back. He must know it, because he steps back first. My heart sinks just a little bit, but I know it’s for the best. Kal is right. West and I can never be a thing.
I turn and head to the bathroom so I can wash the blood off of my face. The entire time, I’m hoping that West doesn’t sleep on the couch tonight. We made a lot of progress, but if he’s on the couch, I feel like tomorrow everything will be exactly as it was and he will go back to hating me. But if he is in his bed, that means tomorrow will be different. It’ll be better.
I take a deep breath and open the bathroom door. My breath catches in my throat as I watch West fluff his pillow on the couch.
Nothing has changed after all, and West definitely still hates me. It’s what I expected, but it still stings.
In my gut, I have a feeling that I’m going to have to get used to disappointment while I’m on this team. Because those boys are never going to like me.
Wednesday, August 12
We have to burn the chair.
I had problems going to sleep last night after…
Well, everything.
All I know is that today has to be different. I can’t have the guys bullying me like that anymore. I’m not going to let them. I’m not a doormat. I’m freaking Roxy Villarreal—a kick butt Spy School student.
I wake up with determination. Getting dressed in my workout clothes—a lavender sports bra, a matching top this time, and some white workout leggings—I decide that if the guys don’t like that I dress like a girl, that’s their problem, not mine. I do put my hair up because I learned my lesson yesterday. It’s way too hot to wear my hair down, plus I don’t want my hair pulled if West decides to tackle me in the middle of our run again.
Thinking of West brings a lot of other thoughts to mind.
Last night.
I head out of my room early today, thirty minutes early, in fact. But West is up, despite the fact that he didn’t get in until one in the morning. I guess sleeping on the couch isn’t exactly comfortable, but that’s his problem. He doesn’t have to sleep there.
I glance over at the chair and frown. Usually, I would sit there, but not today. Instead, I take a seat next to West on the couch.
“We need to talk,” I tell West.
He finally looks at me, acknowledging that I am in the room. “You’re up early.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Couldn’t sleep.”
He glances down, probably seeing what I’m wearing today. I wonder if he’s going to make fun of my clothes again, or maybe my hair. If not any of that, maybe he’ll find something new to make fun of.
“You’re still wearing your pink nail polish.” He scrunches up his eyebrow and tilts his head to the side.
“Uh, yeah.” I look at my nails. They’re chipped a little bit, but they still look pretty good. I probably won’t repaint them for a few days. Maybe this weekend.
“I just thought you’d paint them purple to match your top.”
I can’t stop myself from giggling. “You really haven’t spent a lot of time with the opposite sex, huh?”
“Nah. Women are a mystery.” His eyes meet mine, and he smirks. “Well, not a complete mystery.”
I scoot away from him slightly and he grins at my exaggerated movement.
“Do I scare you, Princess?”
I shake my head back and forth, denying it. But the truth is, he kind of does scare me.
“Stop distracting me,” I say. “We need to talk.”
“So, talk.”
“We have to burn the chair.” I don’t know why that is the first thing I choose to say, out of everything on my mind, but it’s as good a place to start as any. I can’t even look at the chair without feeling sick to my stomach.
“I thought you liked the chair. You sat there while you did your school work yesterday.” He looks at me like he’s trying to figure me out. I want to tell him good luck because even I don’t understand myself.
“You defiled the chair,” I counter.
“I just made out with that girl.” He smirks.
I look down as my cheeks grow warm at the reminder of what happened last night.
“This condo is too small for you to bring girls back.” I get the courage to make eye contact with him. “It’s not smart to bring normies back here anyway.”
“Normies?” He raises an eyebrow.
“You know... normal people. People who don’t work for Spy School.”
“Ah.” He nods. “Well, she was an agent. Not a Royal, but an agent.”
“Still...” I sigh, leaning forward. “We need some kind of boundaries. I don’t want to disrupt the bromance the four of you have going on, but what happened last night can’t happen again.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
His sapphire blue eyes meet mine. “I promise I won’t bring any girls back here. But on the flip, you can’t bring guys back here, either.”
I snort. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
Who am I going to invite to our condo anyway? I don’t go anywhere to meet anybody. Plus, the only times I’ve ever been asked out, it’s been by normies. I don’t want to date a normal guy. He would never understand this life that I live.
West raises an eyebrow. “You aren’t my type, but you’re not ugly. I’m sure lots of guys hit on you.” He waves a hand at me. “Even I can appreciate all of that.”
I look down, feeling very confused.
All of what?
But I doubt West is going to elaborate.
“I’
m surprised you had the guts to even talk to me about this. I just figured you would blush every time you looked at me for the next few weeks,” he admits.
Oh, I probably will blush. One does not forget what I saw. But I also want to make sure I never see it again.
“I’m not the weak little girl that you guys seem to think I am.” I want to show them that I’m strong. I’ve worked my butt off to get where I am. Michael Sinclair sees that. Now I just need my team to see it. And maybe my parents, but I’ve pretty much given up hope of them ever noticing me.
“I never said you were weak. I just think you’re bad for my team. If you weren’t on my team, I might actually like you. But you are on my team. You’re not good enough. I just worry you’re going to get one of my teammates killed.”
I flinch at the harshness of his words.
‘You’re not good enough.’
I’ve heard that repeatedly throughout my life, it’s nothing new. But to hear it so bluntly from somebody I just met three days ago…
Maybe my mom was right.
And the fact is, West isn’t the first person on the team to tell me that—both Kal and Ian told me something similar last night.
I get up from the couch and I run from West like the chicken I am. I walk into the bathroom and allow a few tears to fall from my eyes, but that is all West is getting—just a few tears. I proceed to wash my face for the second time that morning. And then I brush my teeth again, only because I don’t want to leave this bathroom. I don’t want to face West again.
‘You’re not good enough.’
The words play over and over again in my head, like a song—a mashup of West’s voice and my mom’s.
I don’t want those words to control my life anymore.
It doesn’t matter if my mother doesn’t think I’m good enough. It doesn’t even matter if West and the guys don’t think I’m good enough. What matters is that I know I’m good enough. I can’t let the words of a bully bring me down. I have to stay strong. That is the only way I am going to survive this.
After a few minutes, somebody knocks on the bathroom door.
“Come on, Princess. Time to go.” West’s harsh voice startles me.
I sigh, turning to walk out the door. I don’t look at him as I walk out because he’s not worth even the effort it takes to lift my head. Instead, I look at Alek. I know that West is the leader of our group, but Alek is his second.
“I’m ready,” I tell Alek, looking at the time on my phone. “Sorry, I was only two minutes early today.”
Alek snorts. “West, dude, you pissed off the hot one.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not at all offensive.”
Alek scrunches his eyebrows as he looks at me.
“How about the fierce one? Or the smart one? Or maybe anything but hot?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“You don’t like being called hot?”
I shake my head.
My mom always told me that the only good thing about me is the way I look. She said I’m pretty and that, hopefully, my looks would be enough to get me by in life. So, I don’t like being called the ‘hot one’ in the group because it proves my mother was right.
I don’t want my mother to be right. I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove that she’s not, and all of that is unraveling around me. I just have to keep it together. I can’t give up now. Not when I’m so close to proving to her that I’m not the loser she thinks I am.
The five of us leave the condo, heading toward the elevator.
“I thought all girls liked being called hot,” Kal says.
I turn to him as we wait for the elevator doors to open. “If I want to be called hot, I’ll wear a low-cut top, and giggle at everything you say. Trust me, you’re not that funny.”
Alek and Ian both laugh, but Kal just tilts his head to the side watching me.
I honestly have no idea how I am going to survive surrounded by all these boys, but I get the feeling they’re just as lost as I am.
Let it burn.
Later that afternoon, when I’m done with my cold shower—cold because the guys force me to shower last while they use all the hot water—I find that the living room looks different. I study it, trying to figure out what is different. That’s when it hits me.
The chair is missing.
That chair. My favorite chair that was defiled by West and some random chick he met and brought home to make out with. I don’t think that he was really that into her. I just think he wanted to shock me, or maybe scare me into leaving. But he’s going to have to try a lot harder than that.
Kal walks out of the master bedroom. His hair is wet and he smells like soap. I guess he also had to take a cold shower today.
“You are needed on the beach,” he informs me.
Today I decided that I don’t care what the guys say—if I want to wear a dress, I’m going to wear a dress. I put on my favorite one—a pink and white tie-dyed dress. Since I’m done with training, I leave my hair down. Hopefully nobody will tackle me tonight. But my outfit is appropriate for the beach, as long as we’re not training.
I hesitantly follow Kal out the door of our condo, wondering if I should trust him. The last time I really talked to Kal, sans last night, it was so he could distract me while the guys went through my stuff. The door to my room is open, so I glance in. Nobody is in there, unless they’re hiding in the closet. The condo appears to be empty.
Kal walks past the elevators and we walk down the stairs. It’s a little muggy. The stairways aren’t air conditioned and it’s really humid today. Still, I love the heat. It’s a nice change from Switzerland. If I were at Spy School, I’d only have a few more weeks of decent weather—a month if I was lucky. But we’re far enough south in Florida that it won’t be getting cold at all this winter, not unless a freak cold front comes through.
“I like your dress thing.” Kal motions his hand at my dress.
“Uh, thanks.” I feel awkward at his compliment. I feel like he’s being fake nice to me right now. Maybe he really is leading me into a trap.
“Look, we started off on the wrong foot. I do want us to be friends,” he says. “But I meant what I said last night. You and West are never going to be a thing.”
My face grows warm. I’m telling myself it’s just from the heat. “I’m not interested in West.”
“You and I also won’t be a thing,” he says. “Or Alek, or Ian. None of us.”
“Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I want a relationship,” I say, as we reach the bottom of the stairs. “Spy School is my priority. You’re the one who keeps bringing up dating. Maybe it should be me telling you that I’m not going to date you. Or make out with you. Nothing. We’re teammates, and hopefully one day we will be friends.”
Kal reaches a hand out to grab my arm. “Hey, I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t judge you. I’m just really worried that you’re going to tear apart my team. Those guys are my family.”
I nod, because I understand. I want to be a part of that family, but I’ve got to earn my place. I’m not there yet, but I will be. I’m not giving up, even if the rest of the guys want me to.
We walk side by side down the path that leads to the beach. Soon, the cobblestone pathway turns to sand. I’m wearing flip flops and the hot sand fills my shoes, burning my feet slightly. I walk a little bit faster. As we get close to the water, the sand gets harder and I don’t sink down as far, so the sand stops filling my shoes.
When we meet up with the guys, I am surprised to see the oversized chair from the living room is sitting on the beach. I have no idea what is going on until I see West and Alek pour some kind of liquid over the chair. I recognize the pungent smell as lighter fluid.
Alek has a huge smile on his face as he lights a match and throws it onto the chair. West walks over to me and hands me a bottle of lighter fluid. I look at the burning chair. I probably shouldn’t be playing with fire, but...
I squeeze the liquid onto the flame and watch as
it grows bigger and bigger. It’s satisfying to watch the chair burn.
After emptying the rest of the bottle, I take a step away from the hot flames and watch the chair slowly burn away. It’s a shame, I really did like the chair.
“You told me we needed to burn the chair.” West walks up beside me, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, we’re burning the chair.”
I sigh, looking at the flames. “It’s sad. I liked that chair.”
“I talked with the guys about what you said.”
I glance from the chair to him, raising an eyebrow.
“No girls allowed at the condo,” he reminds me. “We all agreed.”
I nod. “Good. Thanks.”
“The place was too small anyway. Maybe if there was a third room, we could have a fantasy suite like they do in all those reality TV shows.”
I snort. “Please tell me you don’t watch reality TV.”
For some reason, the image of West watching some lame reality TV with middle aged women comes to my mind and I can’t help but laugh at the picture in my head.
“No. Alek does, though.” West huffs, like he’s annoyed. “That’s how Alek learned English—by watching The Kardashians. Don’t be surprised if he calls you doll.”
I laugh so hard that my stomach hurts.
West watching reality TV was funny, but Alek watching The Kardashians is hysterical.
“Doll is almost as bad as Princess,” I say, once I am able to breathe again.
“Why don’t you like Princess?” he asks.
“Because you say it like it’s an insult. You call me ‘Princess’ to mock me.”
“You also don’t like being called pretty,” he muses. “You always tense up if the guys call you pretty, beautiful, or hot.”
He’s annoyingly observant, and he’s right. I don’t like being called pretty, but that’s because of my mom. She always said it like it was an insult. But I’m not going to tell West that—not yet. We don’t know each other well enough, and he hates me. Him burning this chair doesn’t change that. He’s just trying to be nice. He’s realized that I won’t be scared away, so he’s trying to make me feel like I’m part of the team. Maybe this is another trick, I don’t know. But I do know that after we’re done burning this chair, we’ll go back to fighting. I don’t know how I know, it’s just a feeling I’ve got.
The Unwanted Spy Page 5
