Trouble.
Later that night, after Damon walks me to my dorm room, he texts me.
Damon: Want to do something that could potentially get us both into a LOT of trouble, but would be fun?
Me: I’m always up for a little trouble. What do you have in mind?
Damon: We’re going to sneak out. No bodyguards. No Tristan. Just you and me.
Me: Are you sure that it’s safe?
Damon: Not 100%, but I want to be alone with you. Kind of hard to kiss you with an audience.
Me: How are you going to sneak out?
Damon: I’ve got a plan. Meet me at my car in 5 minutes.
Me: You have a car?
Damon: Yes. It’s a black Mercedes-Benz G63. It’s an SUV. It has black rims and the license plate says DAMON. You can’t miss it.
Me: K. Be right there.
I’m still wearing my homecoming dress. Savannah is in the shower and I was going to wait until she got out to shower and change. I slip a hoodie on over my dress and slip a pair of black Converse. I probably look really silly, but it doesn’t matter. Not with Damon.
Though, I’m still not letting him see me in pajamas.
I climb out the window and run towards the parking lot. I see Damon’s car right off. I go to the passenger door and am surprised that it’s unlocked. I get in and wait for him. While I wait, I open his center compartment to see what’s inside. I don’t know why I do it. Maybe I’m curious.
Inside, he doesn’t have much. A flashlight, some napkins, a container or hand sanitizer and a phone charger. I shut it, just as Damon opens the door. He jumps in, starts the car and takes off.
“They’re going to figure out I’ve left soon, so we have got to move fast,” he says.
“How did you sneak out?” I ask.
“Through the bathroom window downstairs in my building,” he answers.
I laugh. “Where are we going? Won’t the guard stop you?”
“It’s a surprise. And no, he won’t. I bribed him earlier with twenty bucks. He saw my bodyguards and agreed. I figure he feels sorry for me. I told him I wanted to kiss my girlfriend without everybody watching.”
“I’m not your girlfriend. You haven’t asked me yet.”
“Again, I don’t want to ask you to be my girlfriend when a bunch of people are watching me. If you turn me down, I’m pretty sure they would all hound me about it for weeks,” he says. “Did you bring your cell phone?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“Crap,” he says. “Tristan can track it. I left mine in the dorm.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. We will park and walk. It’ll take them a little while to find us,” he says. “I hope.”
“I happen to have my wig in my bag,” I say, pulling out a brown wig. “Tristan told me to keep it with me incase I ever need it. I could wear it. It’d be harder to find us.”
“Perfect,” he says, as we come into New Hope. He parallel parks his car in front of a closed store. All the stores are closed because it’s 11 p.m. “Let’s walk to the river.”
“Okay,” I say, leaving my phone. I pull my hair up and put the wig on.
Damon grabs my hand and we run away from the car. I’m pretty sure I hear a car pull up as we’re running away, and I’m hoping that it’s not Damon’s bodyguards and Tristan already.
I am sick of having bodyguards.
At least Tristan has eased up a little since Kazimir died.
Once we’re a good ways away from Damon’s car, we sit on the ground by the edge of the river.
Damon doesn’t let go of my hand.
I like holding his hand. It feels good—right.
“I really like you,” Damon says. “I more than like you, but I don’t want to tell you yet, because I know you. It would freak you out.”
“Probably.”
I don’t use the word love lightly. To me, the true definition of love is what God did. He loved me enough to come down to the earth and give his life for me. I know I can never love like He did. But I can try.
“I like you, too,” I tell him. “I already told you I was falling in like with you.”
He grins. “Good. When we talked on the phone, I told you I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend, and you kind of hinted that maybe you would say yes. I wanted to plan an awesome way to ask you, but since the thing happened with Kazimir, with him being able to get on campus, my bodyguards won’t let me out of their sight. Not even in my own dorm room. And I don’t want to wait for them to finish beefing up security. So, I was desperate. This is not how I wanted it to happen,” he says, pausing. “Katerina, will you be my girlfriend?”
His question makes me panic for a moment.
But why?
I like him.
He likes me.
It’s not like I’m committing to marry him. He’s just asking me not to date anybody besides him, and I wasn’t planning on doing that anyway.
“Yes,” I say, only after a slight hesitation.
He doesn’t say anything about me hesitating. Maybe he expected it. After all, he does know me very well.
Damon leans over and I can tell he’s about to kiss me.
Then—
“There you are.”
I look up and see Tristan standing there with a very angry look on his face. Six bodyguards are standing behind him.
“Katerina,” Tristan says, holding out a hand to help me up. “You are in a lot of trouble right now.”
“Whatever,” I say, letting him help me up.
It is so worth it.
Even though Damon didn’t get to kiss me.
Soon he will.
We walk back to the store front where there are two cars waiting, aside from Damon’s. I get in the passenger side of Tristan’s car, and we drive away from Damon. Tristan wouldn’t even let me say goodbye.
“So, this is what you do with your new found freedom?” Tristan asks. “Sneak out?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. I was just sick of being followed around,” I say. “Damon wanted to hang out without bodyguards being around. And I agree with him. It sucks being babysat all the time. I just want to be normal.”
“You are far from normal, Katerina,” he says, as we drive towards the school. “The sooner you learn that, the better. And Damon Hartley isn’t normal either. His dad is the president. You can’t do this kind of thing again.”
“I know.”
“I hope it was worth it,” he says. “Because I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
I groan. “What about your Russia lessons?”
“I thought you agreed to help me learn.”
“Ya by nikogda ne soglasilsya, yesli ya by znal, chto ty takaya prikladom golovu.”
“English, please,” he says.
“Roughly translated, I said, ‘I never would’ve agreed if I would’ve know you’d be such a butt head.’”
“That hurts.”
I yank the brown wig off my head and pull my hair down. I’m sure it looks like a mess, but I don’t care. I’m officially in a bad mood.
I look over at Tristan, who is watching me instead of the road.
“Sorry I snuck out,” I say, even though I’m totally not sorry.
He looks back at the road. He is gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are white.
Wow, he must be really mad.
“I won’t do it again,” I tell him, hoping it helps him not to be so mad.
“I know you won’t.” But that’s all he says.
He doesn’t loosen his grip either.
THREE
With Tristan.
Tristan wasn’t joking about never letting me out of his sight again.
All week long, he has followed me around. The only break I have from him is during school hours, and even then he makes sure one of Damon’s bodyguards follows me.
My days have included training with Tristan. Walking to the dining hall with Tristan. Eating breakfast with Tristan. Walking
to class with Tristan. Eating lunch with Tristan. Doing homework with Tristan. Eating dinner with Tristan. Doing Russian language lessons with Tristan.
Everything is with Tristan.
Tonight, I am going on a date. The date isn’t with Tristan, obviously. But Tristan will be there. Watching our every move. Listening to our every word. For some reason, I’m more nervous about having him watch us than I am about going on my first date.
I look through my closet for the fifth time, trying to decide what to wear. I have a huge pile of clothes I’ve decided against sitting on my bed.
Tristan, who is sitting at my desk, looks annoyed.
“Just pick something,” he says.
I look at the time on my phone. It’s too early to call my mum. I so wish she was here to help me.
“It’s not that easy,” I say, pulling out a cute shirt. I add it to the not pile.
Tristan gets up and grabs something out of my closet.
“Wear this,” he says. “You look good in blue. It matches your eyes.”
He hands me a light blue dress that I have only wore once since arriving.
“Fine. I will. But not because you said so. I’m doing it because I want to,” I say, taking the dress into the bathroom.
“Whatever gets you to stop being such a girl,” he says, just as I’m about to close the door.
I stick my head out. “I am a girl.”
“Trust me, I am aware of that fact.”
I shut the door and quickly get dressed. I pick up all my clothes so it doesn’t look like my closet exploded anymore.
“Are you ready now?” Tristan asks.
“No. It’s five. Damon is picking me up at six. I’ve still got to do my hair.”
“What’s wrong with the way your hair is now?” he asks.
“It’s straight,” I answer.
“It usually is straight,” he says, still not getting the point.
“I want to curl it. It’s my first date and I want to look cute.”
I walk into the bathroom and plus in my curling iron. I grab all my hair products and then get started on my hair. Tristan stands by the door and watches me.
“Do you want me to do your hair next?” I ask, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Really, he doesn’t have enough hair to do much with. I’d still like to fix it though. He always wears it the same way. I don’t think he’s ever combed his hair.
“You’re not touching my hair,” he says.
“Your choice. Maybe you’d get a girlfriend if you actually brushed it once in a while.”
“I don’t want a girlfriend. I have you. That’s pretty much all the girl I can handle right now,” he says.
I pull the iron out of my hair and start rolling another piece.
“That’s cool,” he says. “I think I like it curly.”
I have a big curling iron. I mostly curl my hair to make it wavy and give some body to it.
I wonder if he is going to stand there the whole time I curl my hair, but I don’t say anything.
Twenty minutes later, when I finished, he is still standing there. I flip my hair over and spray it with hairspray.
When I flip back over, I see Tristan looking at me with a curious expression.
“What?” I ask him.
“Why do you do the hair flip thing?” he asks.
I just laugh and look in the mirror to make sure my hair is good.
“Do I look okay?” I ask Tristan, as I turn to him.
“Beautiful.” It’s his only response.
I walk back into my room and spray some perfume on and grab some heels from my closet.
“Aren’t those shoes uncomfortable?” he asks.
“A little bit.”
“Then why do you wear them?”
“Beauty is pain,” I answer, using the line my own mother has used so many times.
“Not always,” he says.
“They make my legs look longer,” I say. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m short.”
“Yeah, but what if you need to run?”
I open my bag and pull out a pair of Converse. I have a really big bag, and right now it’s full. I have shoes and a wig inside, not to mention all my other stuff.
“Interesting,” he says.
“Tonight is going to be so awkward. My first date is going to be with bodyguards. How am I supposed to kiss him for the first time with an audience?” I ask. “I mean, I’ve never kissed before. What if I suck at it?”
Tristan laughs.
Laughs!
I frown.
“What you said was ridiculous,” he says. “Anyway, I promise I won’t critique your date. Or your kissing. I’m only going to keep you safe. I promise, if I could get out of going on your date, I would.”
“Okay.”
“I can’t believe you’ve never been kissed.”
“Shut up,” I say, throwing a pillow at him.
He laughs and tosses it onto my bed.
My first date might be a little more awkward than most first dates, but I’m excited for it.
This is going to be fun.
I think.
First date.
Damon is taking me out on our first date in a limo. Which is really sweet. But it would be much better if there weren’t three bodyguards sitting in the limo with us, and four other following in another vehicle.
“Did they really have to ride with us?” I ask Damon, as we leave the school.
“Tristan insisted.”
Of course he did.
I look at Tristan, who is doing something on his phone. He’s smiling, obviously very happy to be ruining my social life.
“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Damon asks.
“Thanksgiving?” I ask. “Isn’t that some kind of American holiday?”
“Yeah. So I take it you’re not going to Russia for Thanksgiving,” he says.
“Considering I don’t know what it is, probably not.”
“She’s not,” Tristan answers.
Does he have to listen to our conversation?
“It’s still a ways out, but maybe you could come spend the break with me. I’m actually going home,” he says. “I could introduce you to my dad.”
“Not happening,” Tristan says. “Right now, her father doesn’t know how close the two of you are. He will figure it out if she goes to the White House to meet the president. It’s not happening.”
“We could do something else,” Damon says. “I’ll ditch my dad.”
“You need to see your dad,” I say, knowing how bad their relationship is. “Just go hangout with him. I’ll find something to do.”
“But I don’t want you to be alone on Thanksgiving.”
“I won’t be alone. I have Tristan. Plus, Thanksgiving isn’t a Russian holiday. We don’t celebrate it, so I won’t feel lonely or anything,” I say.
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Sorry. I wish I could go with you. If Tristan wasn’t so mean, I would.”
Tristan ignores my mean comment.
A few minutes later, we pull up to a little French cafe. It’s a little ways off the main street. The building looks more like a house, but inside it’s nice. There isn’t a lot of tables, though. It looks full.
“Name of your reservation,” a girl asks when we walk in.
“Hartley. Damon Hartley,” he answers.
She looks up, her mouth falling open. She recovers quickly. “Right this way, Mr. Hartley.”
She leads us over to a table and we sit down. I’m surprised that none of the bodyguards sit with us. They just all spread out. Tristan stands the closest. Not too close to hear our conversation, but close enough to protect me if he has to.
A waiter comes over to get our drink order and hands us a menu.
On the inside, nothing has prices, which means it’s probably really expensive.
When the waiter comes back, we order our appetizer.
“Have you ever been to France?” Damon asks.
“Yeah. It’s about a two and a half hour trip on the train from London. I’ve been there quite a few times,” I answer. “When I spent summer with my grandparents, we’d try to go a few times.”
“I’ve only been to London once, and only for a few days,” he says. “Maybe someday we can go together and see all the sights.”
“Maybe,” I say, wondering what the future will bring. “I just hate making plans for the future. Someday, you may end up hating me. My brother, Alik, has plenty of girls that hate him. And Dimitri’s first girlfriend hates him. She actually was so mad at him that she slashed the tires on his car.”
“Wow,” he says. “Did he cheat on her?”
“I don’t know. I don’t keep up with my brothers love lives. All I know it that Alik goes out with a different girl every other week. Dimitri is engaged to be married. I’m going to their wedding over Christmas break,” I say.
“I doubt we will end up hating each other,” he says. “Do you think they will like me? Your brothers…”
“I don’t know. You shouldn’t be offended if they don’t. I mean, they’re my big brothers. They’re super protective. They had stolen my phone a few times to check if I was texting boys. They go a little overboard.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, so I probably won’t be texting much while I’m there,” I say. “Since Tristan is supposed to be my boyfriend, it would look suspicious if I was flirting with another guy on my phone.”
“Right,” he says. “It’s going to be a long Christmas break without you.”
“I will definitely miss you,” I say.
“By the way, you look really beautiful tonight,” he says.
“Thanks.”
I think I’m going to like dating Damon.
Hungry.
One appetizer, one entree, and one dessert later, and I’m starving.
Damon doesn’t end up kissing me at the end of the night because it was really awkward. So, instead, he walked me to my dorm, kissed me on the cheek and left. I’m sad, but understand why he didn’t.
Fame (New Hope Academy Book 3) Page 2
