Don't Just Speak Love

  Chapter 10

  Best and Worst

  The next day back at school was completely hectic. Minutes before homeroom, I realised we’d been on the news yesterday. The cameras that had shot Atward as he entered Tokyo Dome Hotel happened to capture us in the background, which was how we rocketed up to the top spot of gossip subjects in school today. Not that I needed the help. I’d been hogging that spot since the day I set foot in this place. The whole school knew who I was—Averie Teh, the Singaporean girl opposing Acacia Savant. Wherever I walked, people talked. I had—more or less—gotten used to it.

  In my previous schools, I’d always kept a low profile, but that was impossible in Black Gold—today more than most. People were even following me around.

  “How did you get so close to Atward Savant? I can’t believe you were in the same car!”

  I smiled.

  “Wow. You must be exceptional for Sir Albion to be tutoring you personally.”

  I forced a smile, knowing I wasn’t one bit like the outstanding girl I was thought to be.

  “Knowing two celebrities of different nationalities, how did you manage that?”

  Sasuke had been identified—despite his tremendous effort to make himself unrecognisable—and named in the news as well.

  “What’s he like in real life?”

  “Nice.”

  “Did you watch his concert?”

  “Yes.”

  And on and on. Everyone had been pestering me since morning, and by now, I was so tired of doing these involuntary interviews, my responses—when I had to give one—had deteriorated to words of one syllable.

  When school finally let out, Sasuke and I strode into the conference room, more than glad to ditch our herd of followers for the first time that day.

  Sasuke—naturally—had been getting it much worse than me. Now that his secret identity was blown, his popularity went up another notch. With a brilliant personality, a fresh, attractive appearance, and a cute accent, he’d already been pretty popular, but it wasn’t as crazy as today. At one point in the morning, the press and a mass of fans were even camping outside the school compound. Inside the school, his female schoolmates swooned over him, thrilled to have a celebrity studying at the same school. He’d been handling the attention better than me, but that was nothing surprising. He was a pop star—of course he was used to that kind of frenzy.

  After some waiting, I looked up at the clock at the top of the wall in one corner. Sir Albion was late today, which was unusual. Normally, he would be waiting.

  “Two hundred dollars.” Sasuke grunted at his iPhone.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, turning to him. “What two hundred dollars?”

  “Elliot and his friends are getting people to pitch in for Acacia’s birthday present,” he said. “They just invited me to the party this Friday.”

  “Turn them down,” I suggested. “Asking you to fork out two hundred dollars for a birthday present is ridiculous.”

  “But I’ll feel bad.”

  “Why should you feel bad?” I said with a frown. I didn’t get it. Turning down an absurd invitation, what was there to feel bad about?

  “It feels like I’d be letting them down. I mean, they took the effort to invite me.”

  I scowled. Letting them down? Come on, their invitation wasn’t purely out of good will.

  “Right when I’m running out of allowance...” he muttered, tapping on the screen of his iPhone anxiously.

  “You’re short of money?” I asked.

  He tilted his head to look at me. “Nope, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ll give you the money for the trip tomorrow,” I pressed as he returned his gaze to his iPhone.

  “No, no need to.” He waved me off without looking up.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but stopped when I found Sasuke busy replying to Elliot. He seemed really bothered about this whole thing… When had he gotten so close to Acacia’s clique? Judging by what I saw every day, he hadn’t really spoken to them. This might’ve even been the first time they’d talked. If that were the case, why was he so concerned with people he barely knew? He was even willing to spend so much on their party.

  “Don’t buy friends with money,” I said without thinking, and Sasuke immediately glanced up at me.

  Okay, maybe that was a little harsh, but I couldn’t seem to contain my displeasure. I didn’t mean that he couldn’t make friends with Acacia’s clique. He was free to become friends with anyone, but should he really be so unsuspecting and generous with people he’d just got to know?

  “Is that really how you see me?” he said after a moment of silence.

  “You barely know them, and you’re worrying about not having two hundred dollars to give them. Isn’t that too generous? Perhaps they’re just after your money?”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “Why do you have to twist their intentions?”

  “Two hundred dollars! That’s way overboard!” I snapped. “Or maybe that’s peanuts to you, in which case I’m sorry for making a fuss.”

  He scowled. “Don’t always assume everything.”

  “Since when do I always assume everything?” I demanded, my volume rising.

  “You assume that Acacia and her friends are horrible people just because they did unpleasant things to you. Yes, some of the things they did were very bad, but they’re not downright awful. There are always two sides to everything. You assume there’s no genuine love in this world because of one unsuccessful relationship. The world isn’t as terrible as you think it is—you’re just making your life difficult by thinking so negatively.” He paused. “And you assume you know the Savants’ characters when you’ve only seen their surface.”

  “I’m not assuming they’re horrible people. I just don’t understand why you bother so much about people you’re not even close to. And, why don’t you enlighten me? How is staying in a premium hotel suite, travelling in a top-notch automobile, and flying first class considered living humbly? Not to mention the private jet.” I wasn’t going to discuss my parents. Not like this.

  “They’re making the effort to invite me. It’s only polite that I attend if I can make it, isn’t it? Besides, we’re in the same school. It will be awkward if I turn them down without a valid reason.” He let out a heavy breath. “As for the money, I couldn’t just say no—there could be a dozen reasons for everything. And there are things you don’t know and understand about me...” Ouch. Why did that last sentence sting so much? “...so don’t make thoughtless remarks about me. Regarding the Savants’ lifestyle, all the luxuries are sponsored, of course. Atward Savant is a global phenomenon, and Sir Albion has business dealings with so many companies and corporations in the world, it’s only natural that everyone’s flocking to sponsor them. There’s no better way to advertise. The Savants couldn’t have turned everyone away. They do business, and that’s the way the world works.”

  Okay, some—maybe most—of the things he’d mentioned were my bad, but I refused to bend and admit he was right aloud. All I really wanted to do was convince him not to trust Acacia’s clique too much. It was hard to believe our conversation had turned out this way. “I’m just trying to say you need to have some guard against people. I may be too negative and suspicious, but don’t you think you’re too naive and quick to trust?”

  The door swung open as I finished, and Sir Albion entered the room, locking the door before beckoning us forward. Sasuke and I got up and, taking care not to catch each other’s eyes, moved toward Sir Albion.

  A couple of steps away, Sasuke stopped walking and said, “Can I get to the stadium by myself?”

  Sir Albion raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask anything. “Go ahead.”

  Sasuke zapped away.

  Sir Albion turned to me and reached out. “Let’s go.”

  “Why are you late today?” I sighed. If he hadn’t been late, Sasuke and I wouldn’t have fought.

  Watching me with an unreadable expre
ssion, Sir Albion said, “I was caught up with work.”

  I sighed again, and we headed off to Inverness.

  Throughout our session, Sasuke and I said nothing to each other, going about training quietly for the first time. The atmosphere was extremely awkward, but I pretended not to notice. Sasuke did the same. Sir Albion noticed that something was off between us right from the beginning, but didn’t probe.

  And just like that, Sasuke and I were completely ignoring each other. The only interaction we had was when I gave him the money for our short Tokyo stay, and he took it without saying a word.

  Actually, excluding direct contact, there were two other occasions where we interacted—he’d answered two Chemistry questions in my place when I dropped behind in Ms. Psychotic’s class yesterday, infuriating Ms. Psychotic and making things worse, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he’d cared enough to step in and help me. He’d also given Lola a cold, hard stare when she made fun of me during lunch. Maybe I was reading too much into things, but I liked to think he hadn’t helped me just because he would’ve done the same for anyone else...

  Regardless, the friendship I’d once had with Sasuke had become null, and to add to the hurt, Sasuke had joined another clique since Tuesday. Acacia’s. Initially, Chaste kept bugging us to tell her what had made our friendship turn sour—it took her three days of futile effort to give up on getting us to talk to each other. I didn’t know about Sasuke, but I didn’t want to have to speak to Sasuke first, even though his absence really hurt.

  When the school bell went off, the longest Friday of my life eventually came to an end. Sasuke hurried out of our math tutorial and I stopped what I was doing as sadness throttled me.

  We hadn’t sat together at lunch for a week. We pretended we didn’t know each other whenever we crossed paths. Chemistry lab earlier had been especially unbearable since we were partners—I had no clue how we’d managed to complete the experiment without talking—and there was also the inevitable hostility from Ms. Psychotic. Along with Acacia, she’d been really smug after noticing my fall out with Sasuke, making sarcastic remarks about how friendship didn’t last and how friends turned their backs on each other.

  Slinging my backpack over my shoulders, I said goodbye to Chaste before making my way out of the classroom. As I stepped past Deborah and Lola’s desks, I unintentionally overheard their hushed conversation.

  “It’s gonna be an interesting night.” Lola let out a grating laugh.

  “Yeah, Takahashi Sasuke’s going to be ruined after tonight,” said Deborah with a lopsided grin, stopping me in my tracks.

  What did that mean? I knew they were using Sasuke for his money, but ruined? I was so not expecting that. What could they be planning? How were they going to ruin Sasuke? Could they be joking?

  An abrupt touch on my right arm made my heart lurch. I turned and saw that Chaste had caught up with me, surprised to see me still hanging around the classroom. I put my index finger to her lips before she said a word.

  “Can’t wait for the party later!” Lola gave a stifled squeal of excitement. “Eleven o’clock at Clarke Quay…it’s going to be so much fun—oh, and have you decided what to wear?”

  “Pretty much,” said Deborah, and the pair strode away.

  I was ready to go after them, but Chaste held me back. “Averie,” she said, looking puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

  I had to warn Sasuke and stop him from going to that stupid party. I didn’t know what they were planning, but it was better to be safe than sorry. “Nothing,” I told Chaste. “I’ve got to get going! See you Monday!”

  “Sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes! Bye!” I hurried off to the conference room to look for Sasuke. When I went in, Sir Albion was already in the room and Sasuke pushed back his chair to stand. I already knew what he was going to say and do next.

  “May I?” he asked as a gesture of courtesy.

  “Go on,” said Sir Albion as he extended his arm to me.

  Sasuke zapped off to Inverness Stadium by himself, and Sir Albion and I followed. By now, it had become the normal routine.

  Miserable, I reached out to Sir Albion and to Inverness we went. I’d tell Sasuke about Lola and Deborah’s conversation after training. I decided not to mention anything about Acacia’s party in front of Sir Albion in case I ruined their party and aggravated the tension between us further.

  When training ended, at close to 10 PM, Sasuke stepped out of the office promptly, and I rushed to catch up to him.

  “Sasuke!” I called as the glass doors to the staffroom slipped close behind me, and he stopped without turning around. “I need to talk to you.” He whirled around to face me as I scuttled up to him, wearing the neutral expression I’d come to hate.

  “You can’t go to the party,” I blurted, despite reminding myself numerous times that I had to choose my words carefully to convince Sasuke to give the party a miss.

  Frowning, he stared at me for a moment before speaking. “Why?”

  ““Deborah and Lola have something nasty planned to hurt you. I heard them talking. I—erm—I don’t know what exactly they have in mind, but trust me, they’re up to no good.” I paused, kicking myself internally for doing such a poor job at persuasion. “Just don’t go to the party, all right?”

  He shook his head in disbelief, and his harsh attitude toward me hit me hard. It was amazing I could still stand when it felt like I’d just been run over by a bullet train on maximum speed. “I can’t believe you’re still at it, Averie. Making everyone out to be bad. They invited me to a birthday party—what kind of ulterior motives can they have?”

  “I don’t know!” I cried desperately. “But I’m not lying! I swear I—”

  He didn’t let me finish. “I don’t want to listen to this nonsense, Averie. Do you have anything else to say?”

  Ouch. That really hurt. He might’ve as well slapped me in the face. “Just believe me, all right?” I found myself pleading. I hadn’t known his trust meant so much to me.

  My heart fell as he spun around and strode toward the hostel, leaving me standing there like an idiot girl who’d just gotten her declaration of love mercilessly rejected.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I snapped furiously when I broke out of my daze, but he didn’t stop.

  Watching his back became smaller as he got farther and farther away from me, I could feel tears threatening, but the anger of being ridiculed by a friend I was trying to help quickly replaced whatever other feelings I had.

  “Fine! I won’t bother myself with you any longer!” I shouted after him then, still bristling with fury, stomped out of school and all the way home.

  With a loud band, I kicked the door leading to my bedroom shut then chucked my backpack across the room, smashing it against the wall before it crashed to the ground.

  I’d been concerned enough to warn him about what I’d learned, and he didn’t even appreciate it.

  Fine! Let him be ruined! I don’t even care.

  It wasn’t like his wellbeing had anything to do with me anyway.

  Whatever I might’ve said, I couldn’t stop myself from slamming things around as I subjected myself to a cold shower in an effort to cool my temper, which helped. But, it also helped another thing—making me more worried about the damn Japanese boy now that I was calmer and thinking straight.

  It was my friend’s future... I shouldn’t have let my anger get to me. I couldn’t just sit here and watch him get into trouble.

  I needed to find Sasuke. Fast.

  Without delay, I bustled out of the bathroom without blow-drying my hair. After throwing on some clean clothes and shoving my feet into the first matching pair of sneakers I could find, I snapped up my wallet and my iPhone 5 and sped out of the house. Running to the main road, I hailed a taxi and, when I was on my way to Clarke Quay, pulled out my phone and checked the time: 11.05 PM.

  The party had started at eleven. I hoped I’d be able to make it. I had
to stop whatever they were planning for Sasuke before it happened.

  Ten minutes later, I climbed out of the taxi and stepped onto the streets of Clarke Quay, only then realising I had absolutely zero clue where Acacia’s party was being held.

  I whipped out my iPhone and searched for Chaste in my rather limited contact list. Getting to her number, I quickly dialled it—the only contacts I had in Black Gold were Chaste and Sasuke, and I couldn’t possibly call Sasuke—but she didn’t pick up.

  I dropped the call after at least a dozen rings, looking around frantically and trying hard to think of something else. I’d originally planned to get Chaste to call Sasuke and ask him where the party was, but that wasn’t possible now. Just as I started to majorly panic, I saw familiar faces on the bridge across the street.

  In a scamper, I crossed the distance to get to the bridge and stalked up to Deborah and Lola.

  “Where’s the party?” I demanded when they were within earshot.

  They looked over their shoulders, scoffing when they recognised me. “What are you doing here? For your information, you aren’t invited,” said Lola with a scorn as she scanned me from head to toe—judging me from head to toe—but I couldn’t care less now.

  “Where is the party at?” I repeated impatiently. “And what in the world are you planning to do to Sasuke? Better confess everything now before I lose it.”

  “Oh.” She nodded with mock seriousness. Her tone was downright sarcastic—and downright irritating. Beside her, Deborah let out a particularly mean snicker. “What are you going to do to us?” She scrunched her nose up in disdain and continued her arrogant gait forward.

  That did it. There went the last of my patience. I reached forward and grabbed her shoulder so hard, she cried out in pain. “Let go of me, you crazy bitch!” My temper almost exploded. I’d never been called a bitch before I entered Black Gold, and now, it felt like my second name.

  People around us stared as Deborah tried to pry me off her friend, but her skinny frame didn’t exactly help. I pushed her aside effortlessly, feeling rather good to be the one in control for once.

  “Talk!” I growled at Lola, squeezing her shoulder. I felt a little sorry for hurting her—she was a petite girl, though not nearly as skinny as Deborah—but I had no time for them now. Sasuke’s fate depended on me. Plus, we’d gathered quite a bit of attention by now. I had to get answers to my questions before some stranger decided to interfere.

  “Elliot!” Lola squirmed, trying to shake my hand off, but she wasn’t getting rid of me that easily. “He deceived Sasuke—tricked him into entering the club!”

  I didn’t get it. So what? “Elaborate,” I demanded.

  “It’s an adult nightclub, and he’s underage! Elliot’s going to snap pictures and post them online! Please let go, it really hurts!”

  My face screwed up into a frown. If that happened, he’d definitely be ruined. He might even face legal action.

  Lola was almost tearing up, so I quickly asked one last question, “Where’s the club?”

  She pointed at the other end of the bridge. “The red sign!”

  I let go, sprinting across the bridge. As I came to the stretch of nightclubs along the Singapore river, I was faced with another problem—there was a super long queue out there.

  I decided to play cheat and cut the queue. Pulling aside one of the bouncers, I produced a S$50 note from my wallet and offered it to the big muscle guy. “Let me in! It’s only for a moment. I just have to find my friend and I’m done in there.”

  “Are you eighteen?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said quickly. “Want to check my IC?”

  “Double that amount, and I’ll get you in,” the bouncer said resolutely.

  Impatiently, I took out another S$50 and handed it to him. “Get me in, now.”

  “Your boyfriend inside?” he teased, amused by my anxiety. “Trying to find out if he’s cheating on you?”

  I shot him an icy glare, hoping he’d get the message that I wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

  Shrugging, he quirked his mouth to one side then said, “Come on.” He pushed open the door and led me in.

  “Do you happen to know anyone by the name of Acacia Savant? She’s having a birthday party here tonight,” I shouted above the loud, booming music. Everyone I passed gawked at me as I pushed my way through the hazy room packed with high partygoers. I knew what they were looking at—my clothes.

  I picked up my pace, ignoring stares and the people poking fun at me. Dressed in a t-shirt, a cardigan, and slacks while everyone else was smart-casual, I was terribly out of place. They had got to be wondering what on earth I was doing here in pyjamas.

  “Oh, you mean her?” He pointed to a table of young people at the second level, and I recognised several people from my class. “She’s really pretty. I’m going to buy her a bottle late—”

  “Whatever,” I snapped then moved up to the second level, anxiously searching for Sasuke.

  “Hey!” Someone tapped me on the shoulder, so I spun around and found myself staring into Elliot’s face. “What’s up? The last time I checked, you weren’t on the invite list.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. Seriously, how many times did I have to be reminded that I wasn’t invited to the party? It wasn’t even like I wanted to be here. I didn’t have a choice.

  “Where’s Sasuke?” I demanded.

  “The Japanese...he left already.”

  “Huh?” I cried out. “He left?”

  “Yeah, he chickened out. He’s only a couple of months from turning eighteen, so I don’t see the problem. Plenty of underage kids sneak into nightclubs everyday—no, every night.” Elliot chuckled at his own joke, apparently not finding it as lame as I did.

  “He didn’t chicken out, he’s smart­,” I hissed. “Why hang around a place where he can get into trouble?”

  “Elliot!” Acacia shouted over the noise, though I couldn’t see her. “Come over and drink up!”

  “Got to go.” Striding away, Elliot waved goodbye and my eyes swept over the bulky DSLR camera he was holding.

  Evidence. Camera.

  Elliot had pictures of Sasuke—pictures that could cause misunderstandings and jeopardise his career.

  Okay, I needed to get that DSLR.

  I stepped up behind Elliot and, with one abrupt motion, seized his camera. He hollered, and since I had no plans to hang out, I darted off. I lost him in the crowd easily.

  When a ladies’ washroom came into sight, I burst into it and locked myself in one of the cubicles. A girl in the next cubicle was vomiting away. It was so early in the night, and she was already that wasted. I hoped she’d be okay.

  Bearing with the foul smell, I got to business. Switching the camera on speedily, I nearly dropped the gadget in my haste. Spending no more than a second on each photo, I scrolled through the contents, hoping to find and delete Sasuke’s pictures ASAP. Several long minutes of futile browsing later, I gave up. There were too many pictures—hundreds of them. It would take all night to look through everything.

  With Elliot’s camera in hand, I headed out of the washroom and left the club. I would return his camera tomorrow, after I was certain every single picture of Sasuke had been erased.

  Not knowing what bus to take to get home from Clarke Quay, I made my way to a taxi stand. There, in the distance, was the object of my mission. Sasuke noticed me—he was looking in my direction—and for a while, we both stayed where we were.

  Just when I was certain neither one of us would take the initiative to say hi, he stepped toward me. “Hey,” he began awkwardly. “You were right. I—I shouldn’t have come...and I’m sorry, Averie, I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He paused, looking away for a moment before turning back to me. “What are you doing here by yourself, anyway?”

  Stupefied as I was, I stayed mum, at a complete loss for words as a huge sense of relief gushed over me. Thank goodness, the worst I feared never happened.

  “Are you all
right?” asked Sasuke, eyeing me with concern. He then took in a sharp breath. “Or are you still angry at me?”

  I had to say something. I hoped I wouldn’t mess it up this time.

  “You believe me?” I asked dumbly, even though he’d just said he shouldn’t have doubted me, which basically meant the same thing.

  “Yes,” he said. “And I’m truly sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too,” I said. “About a lot of things.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay.”

  Silence followed. I looked away. Then he looked away. Neither of us knew what to say next.

  “Isn’t that Elliot’s camera?” he asked suddenly, staring down at the DSLR.

  “Well—” I held up the DSLR. “Yes, it sure is. Let’s find a place to sit down.”

  There was a bemused look on his face, but he followed me as I walked to the river and settled down on an unoccupied concrete edge.

  I handed him the camera. “Delete your own photos.”

  He looked puzzled. “My photos?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I think Elliot took photos of you at the nightclub. Get rid of the evidence before he gets a chance to post them online. Lola and Deborah told me about Elliot’s evil plot just before I went into the club to look for you.”

  “You came here to look for me?”

  I pursed my mouth and shrugged. “What else would I be doing here?” I said after a moment.

  A smile that could light up the whole street crossed his lips. “Thanks,” he said then continued teasingly, “I didn’t know you were so concerned about me. I could’ve sworn you said you wouldn’t bother yourself with me earlier tonight?”

  “Idiot. Do you have any idea how much trouble you put me through tonight?” I grumbled, jabbing a finger at his chest. “I even stole.”

  “Thank you, madam.” He saluted me, and I laughed sincerely—for the first time this week. “Averie?” he said, his expression growing serious.

  “Hmm?” I said, taken aback, but he merely held my gaze for a long moment.

  “I really miss you,” he said eventually, and I don’t know why, but my heart took an involuntary leap.

  “You know what?” I said. “I miss you a lot, too.”

  He gave me a large, toothy grin. Without hesitation or reservation, I smiled back just as widely. It felt really good to finally have my friend back. “And thanks for speaking up for me yesterday...even though we weren’t exactly on the best of terms...”

  His grin vanished. Shocked, I stared blankly back at him.

  “I’ll never let anyone get on your case for anything,” he told me in a firm, steadfast voice and swept me straight to paradise.

  “Thanks,” I murmured with shy smile, incapable of hiding the delight on my face.

  And he smiled again.

  Together, we went through the pictures in Elliot’s camera one by one until we finished going through all four hundred and eight, deleting about fifteen of them as we did so. Those shots had girls climbing on him, alcohol bottles next to him, and plenty of clubbers dancing all around him.

  “Why did you even go in?” I asked Sasuke. “Didn’t you see how things were inside?”

  “When I got there, it was still quiet. But as soon as I saw alcohol, I left. Tried to leave, anyway. People swarmed into the club. I didn’t even know those pictures were taken.” He stood up suddenly and bowed—at ninety degrees—in my direction. “Seriously, Averie, thank you so much. I practically owe you my life.”

  “Just promise to trust me from now on, will you?” I found myself saying, surprising myself. Sasuke might get the wrong idea, think I was hinting at something. Maybe I really was hinting at something? Did I like him? Well, I definitely liked him as a friend, but more than that… I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t ever been in love, so how was I supposed to know? For all I knew, it might just be a nice feeling that would eventually pass.

  “I promise,” he said without hesitation, producing his long pinkie finger as he lowered himself back onto the edge.

  I hooked my short pinkie with his, enjoying every second of the happy moment.

  “Let’s get you home.” He started to stand.

  I stood as well. “Let’s go return Elliot’s camera first.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s right.”

  Outside the club where Acacia and her friends were still partying at, I started to approach the same bouncer who’d got me in previously, hoping he’d let me in again, but Sasuke held me back. “I can’t let a girl go in there alone.”

  I waved his concerns off. “I already went in once and survived. Nobody will take an interest in me anyway—just look at me.” I gestured at my body with my chin.

  “No,” he insisted. “Let’s wait here. I’ll call Elliot and get him to come down and get his camera himself.”

  Nodding, I agreed to his brilliant suggestion, and he fished out his iPhone to call Elliot. Our dear friend was out to greet us in an instant, bringing Acacia with him. She looked stunningly beautiful with makeup and a tight electric blue dress on—and she also looked like she was about to claw my eyes out.

  Elliot snatched his camera from Sasuke. “Stealing is illegal.”

  Sasuke bent down, looking Elliot in the eyes—he was roughly the same height as Acacia—and growled in his face, “So is taking defamatory pictures of me.” Sasuke turned to me. “Let’s go, Averie.”

  We started to leave, but Acacia stopped us. “Wait,” she said, and we looked to her expectantly.

  “What’s this supposed to mean?” she blurted, her lethal glare directed squarely at me. “What’s going on here?”

  “I’m surprised you’re asking me,” I hissed, returning the hostility. “Ask your friend. I’m not obligated to offer you explanations.” She tsked, but I ignored her. “Let’s go, Sasuke.” I briefly tapped Sasuke on his arm.

  Acacia’s eyes were wide with rage, and she looked like she was going to hit me any second as what I recognised as a fit of jealousy seized her. It struck me then—the motivation behind this entire episode. I glanced over at Elliot and knew I’d hit the bull’s eye. He was looking every bit as jealous over Acacia as Acacia was over Sasuke. He liked her, but Acacia didn’t return his feelings because her love subject was Sasuke.

  With our business finished, Sasuke and I headed off, sauntering toward the taxi stand, and not long after, we climbed into a taxi and Sasuke insisted we take a detour to my place first.

  I nodded and told the driver, “Holland Road, Street Thirteen.” Honestly, I didn’t know what had gotten into me. Usually, I would have protested the impracticality, but tonight, I went along with it, barely caring about the taxi fare.

  I was so head-over-heels after my reconciliation with Sasuke, I even forgot that I couldn’t bring friends home until we were halfway there. In Sasuke’s case, he’d—technically—sort of already seen my father at his worst. Still, I didn’t want them to meet again so, when the taxi stopped outside my house, I said goodbye quickly and went inside.

  Stepping into the living room, I didn’t see my father anywhere so I figured he wasn’t home. Two steps at a time, I raced up the stairs to my bedroom, but as soon as it came into view—splat. My heart dropped to my stomach. Why was my door open? Just a crack—but still, it was open.

  For a long moment I wracked my brains, but I couldn’t remember if I’d locked my room when I left. I walked warily to my bedroom and pushed the door open. Shock raced through me.

  My father was sitting on my bed, his shoulders slouched and his face flushing red. Jeez—just how much alcohol was in his system? I could smell him all the way from the doorway.

  Lifting his head, he asked, “Where have you been?” There was a sharpness in his voice. “I’ve been waiting seven years!”

  “What seven years?” I asked. Something was definitely wrong with the way my father was speaking to me tonight, but I couldn’t pinpoint it.

  “Don’t play ignorant with me!” he hollered crankily. “Do y
ou realise how long seven years is?”

  Seven years. That’s how long Mum had been away. Was he so drunk he was mistaking me for Mum? I did look very like her—from my face to the shape and size of my body—but still, being drunk didn’t make people forget their own daughter…or did it?

  My father got to his feet, and I took a step back out of reflex. This was the first time I’d come face-to-face with him while he was drunk; before this, I’d always managed to stay out of his way.

  Trembling uncontrollably with what I figured was rage and hurt, he rattled on, “I gave you everything. I gave your daughter everything.”

  My eyes snapped open wide. Does he know the truth? Does he know I’m not his kid?

  “I would do anything for you, anything, but what have you done for me? The only thing I asked of you was to stay by my side, and you couldn’t even do that!”

  Things aren’t looking good, I decided the moment he took a step toward me.

  Reflex kicked in again, and I swivelled around to run from my father, but he was out in the hallway with me in an instant. I let out a gasp, completely unnerved as he caught my arms in a firm hold. When I struggled, we tripped and stumbled to the floor but I, somehow, managed to thrash free of his iron grip. I stood up to make my escape, only to have him grab my forearm and yank me down again. His hand slipped off, but momentum carried me into a nosedive. I only just managed to avoid smashing my face into the floor by throwing my arms out.

  Without wasting any time, I pushed myself up again, but as I raised my head, a solid slap across my cheek turned the world fuzzy. Before I could fully regain my senses, I realised—very much to my horror—that my father was attempting to tear my clothes off.

  “What are you doing?” I cried out, my voice shaky with fear. Though I was pinned to the wall, I kicked and resisted as best as I could.

  When my father spoke again, his voice was gravelly and pained. “I’ve never forced you to do anything, but I’m sick of it! I’m sick of it all! Am I not good enough for you?” He succeeded in pulling one sleeve of my cardigan off, and I freaked out, screaming my head off and fighting with every ounce of strength I had. “I should have made you mine a long time ago!”

  “Let me go!” I screamed, crying freely now. “Get the hell off me! Get off me! Please! Please!” I didn’t even know what I was saying any more, all I knew was that I felt so meek and vulnerable, I could only beg for him to stop.

  Despite my desperate pleading, he ripped my shirt, and I reached my breaking point when he tugged at my bra strap.

  “Daaaaaaaad!” I yelled like I’d never yelled in my life, my voice cracking terribly as I struggled to catch my breath. “Stop it…please…”

  Realisation flashed in his eyes, and shock crawled across his features. He let me go with a start and backed away from where I was lying against the wall—feeble, tear-streaked, shirt in shreds.

  “Averie?” He seemed to have sobered up a little, but I really couldn’t be bothered. Distress twisted his expression, and he rubbed his face nervously. “Oh God, Averie...” He inhaled sharply. “I thought I was seeing your mum—”

  I cut off his unneeded explanation with a growl, “Go. Away.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Get away from me!” Behind the brave front I was putting on was a state of extreme trepidation that my father would attack me again. But still, my temper got the better of me.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll go.” He put his hands out in what was apparently a calming gesture. I didn’t show it, but I was taken aback by his reaction. I would never have expected my drunken father to listen so quickly. “I’m so sorry, Averie. Forgive Dad, all right? I honestly thought I was—”

  “You’re not my dad!” I sobbed, thinking it would shut him up. Make him go away. How wrong I was.

  “Take it back,” he muttered after a moment.

  When I said nothing—not breaking our intense eye contact—his forehead furrowed into deep, angry creases, and he said again, this time louder and harsher, “I said take it back.”

  I kept my silence as I contemplated my chances of outrunning him. Abruptly, he reached forward, clutched my shoulders, and hauled me to my feet. I cringed.

  Tipping my chin up with a hand, he hunched over, and the strong, thick smell of alcohol burned my lungs. He was wild-eyed and overpowering and scary. I didn’t want to, but I gasped. “I never want to hear you say that again, ever,” he breathed in my face. “Do you understand me?”

  Something in me snapped. What did it matter? All this time he’d only cared about drowning himself in alcohol. He had no business telling me what to do—or in this instance, what not to do. “You. Are. Not. My. Dad,” I repeated with added emphasis, and the next thing I knew, he was lugging me across my room.

  I tried jerking his painful grip off my wrist, nearly dislodging my entire arm from its joint in the process. “What do you want?” I shrieked hysterically.

  He yanked me forward, hurling me over the edge of my bed. “Teach you respect.”

  I slammed into the mattress stomach-first. Before I could react, he seized my left elbow and wrenched it behind the small of my back, pressing me into the bed.

  “Let me go!” I yelled, thrashing as vehemently as I could with my legs hanging, but it was no use. Looking over my shoulder when I heard metal clanking, I stopped dead in our tug-of-war as I realised—horror-struck—that my father was slipping his belt off.

  “This is going to hurt a lot, and I’ll make sure it hurts even more if you don’t stop fighting,” he warned grimly. Light reflected off the shiny, silver buckle onto my face.

  I blanched. “You aren’t going to hit me, are you?” I whimpered, staring at my father in utter disbelief as my body went limp. This couldn’t be happening; he had never hit me before.

  He folded the belt in two, and I realised his words were no empty threat. “Apologise and I won’t.”

  I hesitated, and without warning, the heavy leather struck me across the seat of my pants. Clutching the bedspread in my unrestrained hand, I gasped—more in surprise than anything else—as treacherous tears sprang to my eyes.

  “Apologise or not?” he snapped impatiently.

  Despite the overwhelming fear and pain, I swallowed my tears and shot him an indignant glare. I would not let him beat me into surrender.

  He raised the damn belt threateningly, but I refused to cower. It didn’t matter how hopelessly I was quivering on the inside, I wouldn’t ever give in. “This is your last chance—apologise or not?” he demanded, his voice rising to a crescendo.

  He should’ve been the one apologising, not me. I shut my eyes tightly, steeling myself for the consequences that would follow my next word. “Never.” In a strange way, I was proud of myself. I hadn’t known I could be so stubborn, so...bold.

  And that was it. The lashes came down hard and fast. At some point, my willpower gave way to the pain, and I wept into the sheets tightly caught up in my hand. Forgetting my brave talk about not cowering or surrendering, I just wanted to cry.

  I wasn’t aware my torment had stopped until my father spoke again. His tone was no longer angry—it was soft, gentle even. And I hardly believed it was real. “Averie.” He stroked my back, and I flinched. “Are you okay?”

  He’d just hit the living daylights out of me with a freaking belt, and he was asking if I was okay? “I hate you.” I let out my resentment before I could stop myself then panicked immediately. What if he decided to hit me again? My breathing stopped, and I watched him anxiously.

  He didn’t move, just sitting next to me on the bed. Though he didn’t remain that way for long. “Go to sleep,” he said quietly before getting off the bed and looping his belt back on as he headed out the room without another word. He sounded hurt, but I wasn’t about to forgive him because of that. In fact, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to forgive him for what had happened tonight, and for everything else.

  Not wanting to stay another second outside my safety zone, I
let myself slump gingerly to the floor then crawled to the door to push it closed. When I was safely locked away, I shifted to the farthest corner from the door and, curling into a warm ball, cried myself to sleep.