Sometime during the middle of the movie, my head ends up on his lap. And I’m pretty sure that I fell asleep because the next thing I know, Ian is carrying me to my bedroom. He even takes the time to pull the covers over me.
It’s official—Ian Kessler is the sweetest guy on the planet.
Also… I might have feelings for him, which is very, very bad.
Sunday, October 29
Everybody sucks.
My day ended on an amazing high yesterday, so I wake up in a great mood on Sunday.
At ten o’clock, we all go for our usual run. Alek and West are super cranky—not really surprising, since the two of them always seem to be in bad moods, but today it’s worse. They must be tired from last night or something. I’m tempted to cancel my training session with Alek. But I just can’t bring myself to, not when I need our training sessions so much. I still have a lot to learn.
After Ian and West both complimented me on how much I’ve improved since I started doing these training sessions with Alek, I have been wanting to push myself harder. I want to make my team proud and I want to show them that I do belong.
So, even though Alek is being a mean cranky pants today, I’m still going to go to training and I am going to focus and learn and maybe take him down again today.
Alek glares at me when I walk onto the balcony of our condo, where he is standing.
“Hey. Are you ready for our training session today?” I ask, hoping he’s not going to bite my head off. From the way he’s looking, he’s actually considering it.
“Fine.” He motions for me to walk ahead of him.
We go outside and head to the training facilities on the third floor. We bypass the elevators and just take the stairs.
It’s not as hot and muggy today. A cool front came through, but I think it’s only supposed to last for one day. Tomorrow it’s going to be just as hot as it has been all week. I think about commenting on the weather, but one look at Alek and I change my mind. I don’t think he’s in the mood to talk.
Alek’s eyebrows are scrunched together and his jaw is tight. He narrows his eyes when he sees me looking at him, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m honestly a little bit scared of him right now, but I try not to let it show.
When we get into the room, I take my position, ready to start training, but Alek doesn’t get into position right away. Instead, he stands in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest.
“We need to talk.”
I loosen my stance, glancing up at him, waiting for whatever he’s about to say.
“I just need you to know that I’m definitely not attracted to you,” he says.
“Uh...” I raise an eyebrow, wondering how to even respond to what he’s saying. He’s told me a few times before that he is attracted to me, so I’m a little confused.
“You’re pretty,” he clarifies. “But you’re not attractive to me.”
I nod. “Okay. You already told me this yesterday, you know. Do we really need to rehash it?”
“Yesterday, I misspoke. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I don’t like you like that,” he says. “You’re definitely not my type.”
My heart sinks a little.
Not because I’m attracted to Alek.
Okay, maybe a little because I’m attracted to Alek.
But I’m trying to tell myself any girl would feel this way if a guy was telling her over and over again that ‘I’m not attracted to you.’ It’s a complete blow to my self-esteem.
I scratch at my forehead. “You know, I’m actually not feeling very well. Can we cancel this training session?”
Alek puts his hand to my cheeks. “You don’t feel warm.”
I push his hand away. “Alek, thank you for coming with me, but I need a break today.”
He opens his mouth to say something, probably to complain about him having to come down here if I was just going to back out, but I turn away, not waiting for him to say anything else. I really don’t want to hear any more about how unattractive I am to him.
I don’t know if I really believe what Alek is saying. I know he’s just saying it because of what he said during training yesterday, or whatever, but I don’t understand why he’s bringing it up again. Plus, he’s called me beautiful and pretty many times. He’s even joked about wanting to make out with me. So, whatever he’s saying to me is probably something that West wanted him to say to me.
Still... I’m sad. And the reason I’m sad is I am attracted to Alek. Not just his looks, though he is incredibly beautiful, but I am attracted to his personality. I love our playful banter usually, and I love how hard-working he is. I’m attracted to how mischievous and flirty he is. I’m starting to get real feelings for him, and I guess I don’t know how to deal with them.
I can’t date anybody on my team. Not one of them. And I’m kind of glad that I can’t, because if I could date one, who would I even choose?
I run up the stairs, toward the seventh floor where our condo is, and I go inside, slamming the door behind me.
Kal is standing in the kitchen when I walk in. He turns to face me, raising an eyebrow. “You’re back from training early again today.”
“Yesterday wasn’t my fault.” Alek was the one who wanted to stop training early then. And maybe it was my fault today. I probably should’ve sucked it up. But Alek’s words felt like a punch to the gut.
“You’re doing good. Don’t give up on the training.” Kal leans against the archway that leads into the kitchen. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I’m fine. I’m not giving up on training. Alek is just being a jerk and I didn’t want to deal with him.”
I hear the door open up behind me and I flinch.
Alek walks through the door. His scowl from earlier is still in place as he stomps in like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
“Alek, can you not be such a grouch?” Kal asks him.
Alek points a finger at himself. “Me a grouch? She’s the grouchy one. Are you on your period or something?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m allowed to be in a bad mood no matter what time of the month it is, but at least I have hormones as an excuse. I’m not being grouchy, you are.”
“How am I being grouchy?” Alek asks.
“You do look kind of grumpy,” Kal says.
Alek narrows his eyes at Kal, then looks at me.
I sigh. “You’re not being grouchy per se. But you’re being rude. I don’t particularly enjoy being called ugly.”
Kal stands up straight. “You know, I think that’s my cue to leave you two.”
I want to stop Kal from leaving. I want him to protect me from the conversation that I’m having with Alek. But I’m going to be brave and I’m going to suck it up and tell him what I feel.
Well... not how I really feel. Not how I feel about him. But how I feel about what he said.
“I called you ugly?” He scratches at his head.
“You told me that you’re not attracted to me, which kind of feels like you’re calling me ugly,” I say.
“But after I said you’re not attractive, I called you pretty.”
I throw my arms up. “Which is just confusing. How can somebody be pretty but not attractive?”
He opens his mouth to talk, then closes it like even he can’t figure out how to respond.
“Look, I don’t care that you said you are, but also definitely aren’t, attracted to me during training yesterday. I’m completely over that. It’s forgotten,” I say. “Maybe you’re embarrassed about it and that’s why you called me unattractive. But you don’t have to. It’s not like I think I’m going to be your girlfriend because you think I’m pretty or whatever.”
His cheeks turn bright red.
I have never seen Alek blush before and it’s kind of strange to see him like this. He’s always so confident and bold.
“I didn’t mean to call you pretty. It just… you’re always around and you’re not bad to look at. But I’m not into you. Not at all.” He sucks in a s
harp breath, completing avoiding eye contact with me.
Wow. He really is embarrassed.
I put my hand on his arm. “I promise, it’s okay. It’s totally forgotten. You don’t need to convince me anymore.”
He gives me one sharp nod.
“You’re not bad to look at either, Alek. You’re, you know, kind of attractive.” I can’t believe I just said that to him. I clear my throat. “I’m going to shower now. Uh, good talk.”
I turn and run away from him like the coward I am.
Pepto Bismol pink.
The water is lukewarm today. I can’t even complain about it because lukewarm is better than cold. I take a quick shower, because I know that ‘lukewarm’ will turn to cold very quickly if I don’t hurry.
I love the smell of my shampoo. It almost smells like cotton candy, which is my favorite scent. The bottle feels emptier than I left it. I think West has been using my shampoo and conditioner. It doesn’t bother me, especially because I found another bottle of the brand I use under the cabinet. It’s not a cheap brand that I get, so I’m glad he bought some more for me.
I rush through the rest of my shower and get out, wrapping a towel around myself. I use a second towel and wrap it around my head, taking the time to brush my teeth and get dressed. I put on my favorite pink and white tye dyed dress.
Removing the towel from my head, I start to pat my hair dry when I notice a pink stain on the towel.
What the heck?
I pull the towel away to get a better look when I notice that my hair is pink. No, not just pink. It’s freaking Pepto Bismol pink.
My hands shake as I look in the mirror at myself. Pink and blonde splotches are all throughout my hair. It’s then I remember—the shampoo and conditioner that were noticeably less full than before.
Quickly, I toss off my dress and jump back in the shower, throwing away my shampoo and conditioner. I use the new bottle under the sink and I scrub my hair hard, praying the pink comes out. I wash my hair three times and the color still doesn’t fade.
Tears fill my eyes as I shut off the water to the shower. I grab a fresh towel and begin to pat my hair dry again. This towel stains pink, just like the other one.
What am I supposed to do? I don’t want pink hair.
I wipe away the tears from my eyes, taking a deep breath. I know that I need to face this head on and I need to not be crying when I confront the guys. That’s what they want—to hurt me. To make me cry. To make me leave the team. But that’s just not going to happen.
Whoever did this is going to pay.
I turn on my heel and stomp out of the bathroom. All four of the guys are in the living room and all four of them look up as the door opens, but only one of them is laughing.
West. Newman.
I am going to murder him.
I hold my head high and walk farther into the living room.
West, who is standing by the TV, laughs even harder.
I thought West and I were making good progress. I mean, sure, we both kind of hate one another, but after our talk yesterday, when he told me about his parents, I thought we had connected. Clearly, I was wrong.
But why would West put pink hair dye in my shampoo? It’s so… juvenile.
“I am going to murder you.” I point a shaky finger at West’s chest, about ready to tackle him. I pull at my pink-blonde hair, letting the strands fall down around me. “This won’t wash out, West.”
Ian, Kal, and Alek all just stand there in stunned silence, staring at me with their mouths wide open. I was hoping at least one of them would stick up for me, but I just don’t think that is going to happen.
West smirks. “Pink looks good on you.”
Pink looks good on me? That is what he has to say for himself?
“My hair is ruined!” I yell at him.
“That’s a little dramatic, even for you, Princess.” He chuckles, like my distress is amusing him.
I huff in annoyance, turning toward my room. I turn so fast that my hair flies behind me, smacking West in the chest. The move only makes him laugh harder as I stomp off toward my room.
I have no idea what to do. I search the internet for ways to get semi-permanent dye out of my hair, but most of the websites say the best and safest option is to just go to a hairdresser. I call the person with the best ratings and tell them it’s an emergency. They can get me in now, if I come. So I leave my room. The guys are all still in the living room, but I don’t pay them any attention as I grab the keys from the hook by the door.
“Where are you going?” West asks.
But I ignore him. I don’t care if he’s my team leader—he crossed a line when he purposefully tried to ruin my hair. I don’t feel like talking to him right now.
I slam the front door as I walk out, but I hear it open a few seconds later. I am practically running toward the Jeep, not wanting to deal with West anymore. I run down the stairs, ignoring West as he calls my name. When I hit the parking lot, I double my speed, just trying to get away from him. As I unlock the door to the red Jeep, West jumps in front of the door so I can’t open it.
“Move, West,” I say, basically growling the words at him.
He shakes his head. “Not until you tell me where you’re going.”
I narrow my eyes, motioning to my head. “To fix this, you idiot. Now, move.”
His shoulders relax a little, but he still doesn’t move. “Are you coming back?”
I clench my teeth together tightly and take a deep breath through my nose.
I know that West did this because he wants me to leave the team. Even now, I’m sure he’s hoping his plan will work. But he’s going to have to try a lot harder than this if he wants me gone.
“West, I will be back, even if it’s only to annoy you every day for the rest of your life.” I cross my arms over my chest, jutting my chin out. “If you don’t move, I will make you.”
He laughs. “I’d like to see you try, Princess.”
Something about his smug smile aggravates me just enough that I can’t help it. I clench my fist tight, aiming it right for his stupidly perfect jaw. I’m not sure who is more surprised as it makes contact and his head snaps back.
West grabs onto his jaw. “What the heck, Princess?”
My hand hurts horribly, but I’m not going to let it show. I just hold my breath, waiting for the pain to subside.
“Move.”
This time, he does step aside, letting me get into the Jeep. I get in, slamming the door shut. The first thing I do is lock it so he can’t get in the passenger side. I throw the car into reverse, backing out of the parking spot, then I speed out of the parking lot.
I glance in the rearview mirror and see West still standing there, holding his jaw.
Good. It hurt.
I look down at my own hand—it looks fine, but it hurts terribly. I wouldn’t be surprised if I get a bruise from the punch. I can’t help but hope that West gets a massive bruise. He deserves it.
Turning up the radio, I shake my head, still in disbelief over everything that just happened. I can’t believe West put pink hair dye in my shampoo. Is nothing sacred anymore? Now I’m going to be paranoid every time I wash my hair.
How did I not notice the dye in my shampoo? My shampoo is pink, but it had to look different, right?
A few minutes later, I pull into the salon. The woman laughs, asking if I tried to dye my hair myself. I end up telling her that my roommate thought it would be fun to prank me by putting pink hair dye in my shampoo. She told me I should look into getting a new roommate.
If. Only.
West Newman is a problem. He always has been, but this time he took it a little too far. For a moment, I consider calling Michael Sinclair, but I don’t want to be a complainer.
No, I will take care of this myself. West will pay for what he’s done, I will make sure of that. This means war.
Three hours later, I walk out of the hair salon with all the pink gone from my hair, but I won’t soon forget w
hat happened.
I glance in the mirror at myself in the Jeep, happy that my blonde hair is back to its normal color. Maybe when I get home, I should hide my shampoo so nothing like that ever happens again.
Trust nobody—that is my new moto.
I see you got the pink out.
I sit in the Jeep for a long time, just thinking.
When I was a little girl, this was everything to me—The Royals. I always imagined how amazing my life would be once I was invited. I thought my teammates would be my best friends and that somehow, getting invited, would make everything perfect. I thought being a Royal would make my parents love me. Instead, all I’ve done is prove my parents right—I am a failure. I’m not good enough to be here. West dying my hair, while childish, was just his way of trying to get me to leave. I can’t even blame him.
My phone chimes and I dread even looking at the screen. I’m not sure I want to know who it is. Is it my parents, reminding me how much they hate me? Or maybe it’s West, still laughing about the fact that he ruined my hair. Either way, I’m not sure I can handle much more today. If it’s somebody telling me how much I suck, I might just start this Jeep and leave.
Technically, West didn’t ruin my hair. The beautician did fix it, even if it took hours. I was worried for a bit that I would be stuck with a pink tint in my hair for the next few months. That would be tragic.
Once getting up the courage, I glance down at my phone. The text isn’t from West or my parents, but the words still cause my heart to stop.
IAN: Don’t let West run you off. You’re really not as bad as I thought you were. I was wrong—you ARE good enough to be a Royal.
Just like that, every negative thought I’ve had about myself is gone.
It doesn’t matter if my parents don’t think I’m good enough. It doesn’t matter that West wants me to leave. All that matters is that Ian doesn’t want me to leave. And neither do I. I want to be here, no matter how much my teammates despise me. At least I have Ian on my side now.
The Unwanted Spy Page 15
