Tristan doesn’t say anything for a minute and I’m afraid that I’ve scared him off. But then he smiles at me. It’s a wide take-my-breath-away, smile. His caramel eyes sparkle in the sunlight.
“Does that mean you want to go on a date with me tonight?” he asks.
I nod. “Yes. I do.”
But I also don’t want to hurt Dylan’s feelings.
Or any of the guys, for that matter.
“But what about Dylan?” I ask. “Will he be mad if I go on a date with you, too?”
“Nah,” Tristan says. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Okay,” I say, letting out a relieved sigh.
I really, really didn’t want to have that conversation with Dylan, and I’m glad Tristan is going to do it for me.
I just hope Dylan isn’t mad when he finds out I want to go out with Tristan, too.
Tristan pulls the SUV back onto the road, taking my hand again.
“Do you think it will hurt his feelings?” I ask.
“Zara, don’t worry about it,” he says. “I said I would take care of it and I will.”
“Okay,” I say.
I need to trust him with this.
A few minutes later, we park at the school. As I’m getting out Tristan rushes over to help me. Like I need help. I’ve been getting in and out of a car just fine on my own my whole life. But it’s still sweet and I’m not about to tell him I don’t need help.
He holds onto my hand as we walk into the school, but he doesn’t let go as we walk into the dining hall. He lets everybody see, even the guys. But they don’t even seem to notice or care. Not even Dylan.
That’s not true. I know they notice. They notice everything. But they don’t care.
Maybe holding hands isn’t as big of a deal as I make it out to be.
When we sit down, Tristan let’s go of my hand. I smooth my hand over my skirt, feeling weird at the loss of his touch.
The guys all talk about their weekend plans—mostly they just want to hang out at my house, which is fine with me. Hopefully Zach doesn’t mind a bunch of teenaged boys hanging out.
I’m sure he won’t.
Zach likes them.
Everybody seems excited today. Maybe because it’s Friday or maybe it’s because we’ve gone a whole week without incident. And my head is feeling much better. I haven’t even had anymore headaches, which is great.
As we walk to class together, the guys are goofing off with each other. It’s fun to see their relationship with each other. I imagine that since I came here, it’s changed everything between them. How could it not? But this... them play wrestling and making jokes... this is how I imagined they were before I came. And I like it.
Even Mr. Brown seems to be in a good mood today.
“Hey, Mr. B,” Cam says to him, as we walk past him on our way inside his classroom.
“Hello, Camden,” he says. “Zara, hey. I was hoping I could talk to you for a second.”
“Um, sure,” I say.
The guys all look curiously at us, but walk past to take their seat.
“I want to talk to you about tutoring,” he says. “I know you probably have a lot going on, but I have a student who could really use some help. I’ve been trying to help, but they just don’t seem to be able to comprehend it. I was thinking maybe you could give it a shot. Maybe you can explain it differently.”
“I can try.”
“Excellent,” he says. “I’ll set up something for Monday. Would that be okay?”
“Sure,” I say, then nod. “I can probably spare an hour.”
“Good. Thank you, Zara. I’ll be sure to put this in your file.”
“My file?” I ask.
“Your willingness to help,” he says. “It will look good on record.”
“That’s not why I’m doing this.”
“I know,” Mr. Brown says. “Go ahead and take your seat.”
I do as he says, feeling good about what he said. He knew before he asked I’d be willing to help. He didn’t even have to offer an incentive. I didn’t even think about it, not really, but I think that’s an admirable trait in others.
“What did he want?” Cam asks.
“I’m going to be tutoring somebody on Mondays,” I say.
“Cool,” he says.
Yeah, very cool.
Profile.
In my class right before lunch, I am called to the principal’s office. Cam walks me there, but he doesn’t go in.
I wonder what this is about. I haven’t done anything wrong.
Or maybe I have and I’m not aware of it.
“Have a seat,” Ms. Schmidt says.
I sit down across from her and play with the ends of my hair, waiting for her to say something.
“I have an assignment for you,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Uh, okay.”
Why is she giving me an assignment if I’ve only been here for three weeks? Have I really learned enough in this amount of time to really help?
She slides a folder across the table towards me.
“This requires secrecy. Even you teammates cannot know about this,” she says. “It is for you and you alone. If you tell anybody, it will be an automatic fail, do you understand?” she asks.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Good,” she says. “Inside the file, you will find information on a terrorist that we captured. He’s being held in a secure location, but we need information out of him. He is not willing to tell us anything, not even when he’s being tortured.”
I flinch slightly at the word tortured. I hope Ms. Schmidt didn’t notice, but I have a feeling she did.
“I need you to look through his file and tell me how to get into his head,” she says. “There you have access to everything you need to know—about his childhood, his past, and everything that makes him... him.”
“Okay,” I say. “So, you’re going to try to go the psychological route.”
She nods.
“I can do that,” I say. “I mean, I’m not sure how much help I will be, but I will do the best I can.”
“That is all we expect,” she says.
“Why am I being chosen for this?” I ask.
“Somebody older with more experience has the same file. We’re going to compare your notes and see how good you are at profiling. I know you have only been to one human behavior class, but Zach tells me you’ve got a knack for it.”
Hearing his praise makes me smile.
Zach believes in me.
“Thank you. I will try not to let you down,” I say.
“I need your response by Monday,” she says.
I nod. “Okay.”
I go to stand up, but Ms. Schmidt stops me.
“One more thing,” she says. “I meant what I said about your team. This is for you alone.”
“I understand. I don’t want their help anyway,” I say.
“That is all,” she says.
I get up and walk out of the office, excited for whatever is inside that file.
I have a lot of work to do this weekend.
True love.
The boys are acting strange—they have been since lunch. And it’s driving me crazy. It’s like they’re hiding something from me, and maybe they are. I was really hoping that all the secrets were behind us.
Apparently I was wrong.
I plan to confront them, but as soon as I finish my last class, all the guys leave without even saying goodbye. That’s not like them.
Tristan walks up to me as I watch the other guys disappear.
“Hey,” he says. “You ready to go home?”
“Yeah,” I say, putting my messenger bag over my shoulder.
Maybe I should just ask Tristan, but I don’t want to make things weird. Especially since we’re going on a date tonight.
I smile, remembering the date.
Oh, my gosh. What am I supposed to wear?
For the first time since coming to Spy School, I miss my mom.
&nbs
p; “I want to call my mom,” I tell Tristan.
“So call her,” he says.
“I don’t mean right now. I just haven’t talked to her since I found out about Zach,” I say.
“Your mom hasn’t called you in two weeks?”
I shake my head. “I mean, she’s busy a lot. It’s not uncommon to not hear from her much when she’s away, filming her movies and such.”
“Is she filming right now?”
“No,” I answer.
She just isn’t talking to me.
“Maybe you should call her,” Tristan says. “Maybe she feels embarrassed and needs you to make the first step.”
I imagine my mom is embarrassed, Tristan is right about that.
My mom has always had this ‘perfect’ image in Hollywood. Even when my parents got divorced, somehow they pitched it to the media that the time away from each other had put a strain on their marriage. There wasn’t even a false cheating scandal.
Well, I guess it wouldn’t have been false.
When she married Brad, it was this fairytale wedding at this castle in Scotland. I remember Vogue shot the wedding and it was a whole ordeal. We were there for two weeks just taking pictures—it was horrible. By the time the wedding was over, I realized that being a real life princess would suck.
But that is who my mom is. A queen in her own right. And this has got to be putting her out of her element.
I have questions, though. Questions that only she can answer.
And I need fashion advice. Because what am I supposed to wear on my first date? Especially considering I’m crazy about him.
“Do you think she’s mad at me?” I ask.
“Why would she be mad at you?” he asks.
“Because I accused her of cheating on Dad,” I say. “I even accused her of cheating on Brad.”
“Well, she technically did cheat on your dad,” Tristan says.
True.
Though, I do feel bad for accusing her of cheating on Brad. I know she wouldn’t do that. I see the way the two of them love each other. When I think about true love, I think about them.
Tristan pulls the SUV to a stop in front of my house and I’m surprised to see that Zach’s SUV is there.
“I didn’t know he was home,” I say.
“It works out good this way,” he says. “You can go call your mom. And I’ll be by later to pick you up.”
“Okay,” I say, suddenly feeling nervous.
Am I really about to go out on a date with Tristan.
I go to get out of the car, but Tristan stops me.
“Look, before you get out, we need to talk,” he says.
I sit back, letting out a sigh.
I was waiting for this.
He’s going to tell me he can’t go out on a date with me.
That I’m not good enough for him.
Not pretty enough.
Just... not enough, period.
“I talked to the guys today,” he says. “And... things are kind of complicated right now.”
“Complicated?” I ask.
Then I remember how all the guys were acting.
“You guys are keeping a secret again,” I say.
He looks at me, like he’s trying say something with his eyes, but I have no clue what.
I cast my gaze down and begin to play with the end of my hair. Mostly, I’m trying to keep from crying.
“Zara, all the guys are coming tonight,” Tristan says. “To the movies.”
“What do you mean you’re all coming? And... wait... we’re going to the movies? I’m going to the movies tomorrow with Dylan,” I say.
“We just think that it would be better for now if you hung out with all of us when you’re in public—just for now,” he says. “We’re still not certain who the threat is. We seriously have no leads. And it’s a safety thing.”
A safety thing.
Why do I feel like there is more to the story than that?
“Okay,” I say, nodding.
I have no choice but to accept what he’s saying. I have to trust the guys. I know they’d never do anything to put me in danger.
So why does my heart feel so heavy?
“Does that mean you don’t want to go on a date with me?” I ask.
Tristan’s head whips up so fast that I look over at him out of instinct.
“Zara... how could you ever think that?” Tristan asks, shaking his head in complete shock. “Do you not see how crazy I am about you?”
I shrug my shoulders, still playing with the end of my hair.
The truth is, sometimes I think he’s into me, but other times I can’t tell. Like, maybe he flirts with all the girls. Maybe I’m not special at all.
“Let me tell you this,” Tristan says. “From the moment I met you, I knew that you were the girl of my dreams. I never believed in love at first sight. But then, there you were, standing in the middle of the crowded corridor at my school. You were lost, and even though I was running late, I had to stop and talk to you. When I heard your voice for the first time, I swear my heart stopped beating for a moment. I’ve never felt like this before and I know that I never will again with anybody other than you. You’re a once-in-a-lifetime kind of girl.”
He liked me even back then?
Wait, he said love.
“Love at first sight?” I ask.
“It felt like a lightning bolt straight to my heart,” he says.
“And now?”
“I feel the same thing every time our eyes meet.”
His words cause me to smile.
And, as cliché as it sounds, I think I forgot how to breathe for a second.
“When this is all over, once I’m safe, do you think we can still go out on a date with just the two of us?” I ask.
Tristan’s face lights up and he rewards me with the biggest smile.
“Zara, I would love to go out on a date with just the two of us.”
“Okay,” I say, then smile at him. “I guess I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Yeah. Later tonight,” he says.
I reach for the door handle, but before I can fully open it, Tristan is standing there, helping me out of the car.
How did he even get over to me so fast?
He walks me to the door, and I wonder if this is what it would be like if we were going on a date tonight. Him, walking me to my door. I’d probably be nervous, wondering if I would be getting a goodnight kiss or not.
While I’m disappointed about not being able to go on a date tonight, maybe it’s for the best. Because Tristan isn’t the only guy I am developing feelings for. I should try and figure out what my feelings are before I lead any of them on.
“Thanks for driving me home,” I tell Tristan, as I push open the door.
“No problem,” he says, sticking his head in the door. “Hey, Zach. Just wanted to make sure you were here before I left.”
I turn around to see Zach standing in the foyer.
“I appreciate that,” Zach says to Tristan.
I turn back around. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“See ya,” he says, then winks at me before shutting the door.
I can’t help but let out a girly sigh as I watch him walk to his SUV through the window.
After he leaves, I turn around and see Zach smirking at me.
“Shut up,” I say.
He just laughs.
Fate.
I look at my phone, my mother’s number pulled up. I go to hit the green call button, and like ten times before, I chicken out. I leave my phone again and begin to pace the floor, hoping that I will suddenly get brave.
Why is this so hard? It shouldn’t be this hard. She’s my mom for crying out loud. I spent ten months growing inside of her and I’ve spent the last sixteen years with her. I tell her almost everything.
But that was before I found out she was lying to me. That she had been lying my whole life. That she kept me from my biological father.
But if she hadn’t ke
pt me from him...
Jack Summers is my dad because she kept the truth from me. And can I really fault her for that? I love my dad, and I would never want to take away from the relationship that we have.
Still, I wish that I would’ve gotten to know Zach before now. I feel like I have to suddenly catch up on all the things we missed.
As crazy as it sounds, I already love Zach Stone. And I hate how guilty I feel for it. I shouldn’t feel guilty for loving my biological dad. And I shouldn’t feel guilty for being mad at my mom for keeping the truth from me.
There is a knock on the door. I stop pacing and I look over to see Zach poking in his head.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer, then start pacing again. “No.”
“What’s wrong?”
Zach pushes the door open farther and comes into my room. He sits down on my bed and pats the spot beside him. I reluctantly go and sit down beside him.
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out.
I just need to tell him the truth.
“I want to call my mom,” I say.
“So call her,” he says.
“I haven’t talked to her since I found out about you,” I say.
“Oh. I see,” he says.
He looks at me—most likely studying me. I get the odd feeling that he can tell exactly what I’m thinking by just looking at my face. And maybe he can. My face is kind of an open book. I’ve never been good at hiding my true feelings.
“Are you mad at her?”
“The answer is complicated,” I say.
“Try me,” he says.
I take a deep breath, then I just tell him everything that I’m feeling.
How I’m mad at her for keeping me from him.
But that I’m not totally mad, because if she hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have much of a relationship with my dad.
But how dare she take the decision away from me?
And how I wish I could’ve just known him my whole life instead of just the past couple of weeks.
“That’s a lot of emotions for one person to be feeling,” he says.
I nod.
It really is.
But it’s how I feel.
“Only your mother is going to be able to give you the answers that you want,” he says. “Honestly, I’ve been mad at her for a long time. But now that you’re here, I just don’t care anymore. I’m so happy that I get to be a part of your life now.”
Toxic (The Zara Chronicles Book 3) Page 7
