“Yeah,” Mason cuts in, his voice soft and more even than it was before. After talking longer about nothing specific, we say our goodbyes and hang up. My stress levels are out of whack after the conversation, so I take some calming breaths and run my hands through my hair.
Once I’m calm, I make my way downstairs to find the guys in the living room and no Drake. I walk in and plop down on the couch next to Alec, who’s engrossed in his homework. “Where’s Drake?” I ask no one in particular. Chase and Ross look up from their video game and give me confused looks.
“Uh…” Ross thinks about it. I roll my eyes at his confusion and look to Chase and Alec for answers.
“Kitchen,” Alec answers. I nod and push myself up off the couch, mumbling thanks as I exit the room. I walk down the hallway and into the kitchen to find Drake sitting on the counter, eating chips and reading a book. Curious. He looks adorable, munching on chips as his eyebrows pull together with concentration and his lips, between chip bites, purse.
He laughs out loud at something in the book, which endears me to him even more. He likes to read. I smile.
Drake looks up when I move forward, and he sends me a small smile. “Did everything go okay?” He asks, marking his page and setting the book aside. I glance at the cover and smile when I see it’s I Am Number Four.
I move over to him, stand in between his legs, and lay my hands on his thighs. “Hopefully, I can sign the papers tomorrow,” I tell him and bite my lip to suppress my smile. Drake’s eyebrows raise, and he smiles, sliding off the counter.
He pulls me into a hug. “That’s great, Flower. Do you want me to come with you tomorrow?” I nod, laying my head on his chest. I don’t think I could do this without him. His heart thumps against his chest, the constant beat relaxing me. I sigh, content merely to let him hug me. He can make things better by just holding me.
“You can just live here, right?” He asks, making me look up. “I mean, Athena, you practically live here anyway. Mason can take the spare room,” he reasons, and I smile. Nonna decided it was time for her to go home, so she left two days ago. For safety reasons, Nonna said she’d call if she needed anything.
“Are you sure? I can give you guys some money from fights to pay for rent or something,” I tell him, and he chuckles. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “No. Actually, I’m giving you money, and you will take it. I won’t live here for free,” I say in a more set tone. Drake sighs. He knows I won’t budge.
“Fine,” he huffs, but I know that he’s secretly happy that I’m moving in. It won’t be any different from what we’ve been doing for the past few weeks. On more than one occasion, I’ve woken to him cuddling me, his arms around me and face buried either in my hair or my neck. The first time it happened, I didn’t want to move. I would’ve never guessed he would cuddle.
By now, I should know not to assume he’s like other guys.
~*~
“Ready?” Mason asks, eyeing the double doors in front of us. His feet shuffle on the floor, and his hands clench and unclench, giving away his nervousness. Taking Mason’s hand, I glance over my shoulder at Drake, who just nods in encouragement. I appreciate his comfort. Smoothing out my dark red skirt and pulling on the sleeves of my black top, I take a deep breath and push the doors open.
My black heels click against the tile floor as I walk, and the sound is so loud in the silent room. The judge watches us, as does Jason, who’s standing next to the judge. I give him a thankful smile, and he nods at me, the corner of his lips tugging up.
“Miss Athena Hale? And her younger brother, Mason Hale, I presume?” The judge voices as we stop in front of his enormous desk. He motions for us to take our seats, so we do.
“Yes, sir.” He nods, pulling out a folder of papers. He shuffles through them, reads something, then sets them down.
“You are requesting legal guardianship of Mason Hale?”
I take a breath and nod again, then realize I should speak. “Yes, sir, I turn eighteen in less than a month and was planning to take guardianship at that time,” I clarify.
He hums and rubs his chin, “Why do you not wait until you’re of age?”
I truthfully explain our situation and what Alisha and Lexi have been like since we were kids. I tell him about their awful behavior, how they’re careless, and how Mason and I are treated in school by Lexi. Throughout the explanation, the judge nods and writes some notes down, which I wasn’t expecting.
“How will you provide for the young man in question?” The judge asks when I finish, folding his hands on the desk in front of him.
“I have a stable job working at a shop in town, and I’ll be living with my boyfriend, Drake,” I answer, and the judge’s eyes flicker up to Drake, who is standing behind me. He’s doing just what he promised, standing with me and being my rock.
“Why should you have guardianship of this young man when you are so young yourself?”
“We’re the only family each other has, and I’ll take care of him, provide for him with the money I make from my job, and make sure that he continues with school,” I answer, hoping he’ll accept. The judge studies me for a bit, then looks at Mason’s hand in mine. I squeeze his sweat-slicked hand in reassurance.
The judge acknowledges my words by sliding the papers across the desk to me, saying, “Sign the bottom of the first page, initial the middle of the second and third page, then both of you need to print and sign the last page.” I scoot to the edge of my seat and pull the papers closer. I pick up the pen and scan the words on the first page. It says that I’ll take up the responsibility of a legal guardian.
My eyes land on the line that says ‘Parent/Guardian,’ and I bite my lip to hide the smile that comes to my face. I glance out of the corner of my eye at Mason, who’s watching me.
Delaying no more, I sign the bottom and move to the next page, which says I’ll provide housing, food, and education. I initial this page and the next, which states that I will do everything in my power to keep my brother safe. Lastly, I move to the last page, and I print my name and sign the bottom. I slide the papers over to Mason, and he does the same.
Once we’ve signed, the judge stands and takes the papers. “Congratulations, Athena Hale, you are the sole guardian of Mason Hale,” the judge announces, banging his gavel. I smile as he holds his hand out for me to shake.
“Thank you!” I shake his hand quickly, resisting the urge to hug him before he pulls away and nods to the rest of the group.
Finished, we head outside, where I practically jump on Mason. I throw my arms around his neck and hug him. “We did it!” I shout as he hugs me back. He laughs and spins me around before setting me back on the ground.
“Why don’t we go get your stuff from the foster home,” Drake suggests, making me look away from my brother.
“Let’s go get your things,” I say, taking Mason’s hand.
~*~
Sighing, I plop down on the couch and rest my head on Mason’s shoulder. “Wow, I’m glad that’s over,” I mumble. He chuckles. We just got done moving all Mason’s things, which was more than I thought, into his room here at Drake’s house. We also got Mason’s things from Alisha’s house.
Everyone just hangs out for a while before I’m yawning. I move my head onto Drake’s shoulder to curl into his side, barely listening to the conversation. He glances at me. I return a sleepy smile, and he clears his throat, getting everyone’s attention.
“Well, now that you’re all settled in, your sister and I are going to bed,” Drake announces, and Mason looks up. Drake moves me off of him and stands, pulling me to my feet while Mason eyes him.
“Don’t forget I’m here now. I don’t want to be an uncle yet,” Mason tells us, pointedly looking at Drake.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment, probably turning my whole face red, and all the guys laugh. “Despite how cute your kids would be, Mason is right. We don’t want to be uncles yet either,” Ross adds. He wiggles his eyebrows, and I groan. Why do t
hey say things like that? Drake and I haven’t gone past making out, and it’s embarrassing.
With a huff, I trudge upstairs, Drake only a few steps behind me. I push his door open, pull my shirt off, and grab one of his. His shirts are bigger and more comfortable than mine, so they’re better for sleep. Drake heads into the bathroom to take a shower, so he doesn’t see me.
I pull the shirt on and grab a pair of his sweatpants, thinking while I pull them on too.
Would our kids be cute?
I could imagine a little brown-haired boy with big blue eyes that resemble Drake. He’d be so cute. I could imagine us, Drake and I, playing with him in the front yard. My heart melts as I stroll through my imagination. We could go to the park, teach him sports, give him siblings. I’ve always wanted a-
What am I thinking? I don’t even know if we’ll last that long. I mean, I hope we do, but we’re only in high school. Them, my brain takes me in another direction. Does Drake even want kids? Does he like kids?
Shaking my head, I get rid of the thoughts and focus on getting ready for bed.
Walking over to the dresser, I grab a makeup-removing wipe to wash my face. After that, I twist my hair into a messy bun, leave the room, go downstairs, and make my way to the kitchen for a glass of water. As I fill up a cup, someone comes up behind me.
“I thought you were going to bed,” he says, making me turn. I smile at my brother while sipping my water.
I shrug, “I got thirsty.” He slowly walks over, taking the cup out of my hands. “What ar-”
Before I can finish, he wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight. “I love you, Thea.” Tears fill my eyes as I welcome my brother back. Finally, back together.
“I love you too, Mase,” I mumble into his shoulder. I’m so glad he’s back, and we can be a family again. I remind myself to thank Jason when I see him also. If he hadn’t called in a favor, Mason would still be at that stupid orphanage. It might only be a month early, but it means everything to me. Maybe I’ll give him a gift or something.
After hugging for several minutes, we pull away. “You look tired,” Mason comments. He brushes a thumb under my eye where dark bags hang. “You should go to bed,” he tells me, wiping away a fallen tear.
I don’t argue because he’s right. I’m exhausted, and I haven’t even really done anything, so I kiss his cheek. “Night,” I mumble before heading out of the kitchen. Slowly, I climb the stairs, tugging the pants legs up so I don’t trip. Drake’s door is still open.
When I enter, the first thing I see is a rectangular black box on the bed. Confusion fills me, making my eyebrows furrow. Was that there a few minutes ago? I search the room. Everything else in its place. The shower cuts off after a second, just as my attention falls on the box again. If Drake isn’t out of the shower yet, that means he didn’t put it there. Was it one of the guys?
The bathroom door pops open, steam surrounding Drake as he walks out in only a pair of black sweatpants and smiles. “Did you put this here?” The box is no bigger than my arm, but it’s still not small. Drake looks at the box and sits on the edge of the bed. I move to the other side and sit down.
Nervously, I pick up the small card on the top of the box and slowly open it to see handwriting scribbled on the white paper. First, I notice the signed V at the bottom- the same V on the last note. Second, the writing is the same.
I take a deep breath and read, “Congratulations gettin’ custody of lil bro. Daddy’d be proud. Too bad you ain’t gonna be with him long. See ya soon, beautiful. V.”
Drake curses, yanking the note out of my hand. Slowly, I untie the ribbons on the black box and pull off the lid. A chill runs down my spine like an icy touch when I see a dying and blackened rose lying in the long box.
Chapter 26
Athena
After finding the note the other day, everyone tried to act normal; although it’s no secret, we’re on edge. Drake is furious because he was in the other room when the man got close. He came into our house and could’ve hurt or killed someone. This whole situation is worrying me. The guys mutter to each other, Drake grumbles, and I get very little alone time.
The protective force that they seem to have put up around the house- around me- is nice but a bit suffocating. I’m never alone.
“You think we’ll win?” Mason asks as we pull into the school parking lot. Tonight is another one of Mason’s soccer games, and he’s a little stressed. After we told him what happened with the stalker, he got mad. Really mad. He went off on how he should’ve been with me to protect me. Drake, again, grumbled in agreement, even though I told him I was okay.
I need to focus on my brother. Right now, he’s more important.
“The team has you, Mase, so yeah, I think you’ll kick their butts,” I smile, getting out of the car. He follows me out while Drake climbs out of the driver’s side. He silently makes his way over, a scowl on his face as he comes to my side. His scowl is a semi-permanent feature these days. It’s both handsome and worrying, so I smile up at Drake, and in response, his expression softens. It hardens again after a second.
His tight, rigid body language and his expressions tell me he’s still wound up. Fear and stress have taken over our peace and safety. We were happy, always joking, talking, and having fun in the house. Now, the invasion of our home hangs over us like a dark cloud. Even Ross is less of a jokester, though he’s not entirely tamed.
Sighing, I take Drake’s hand, weaving our fingers together, and follow Mason down to the bleachers where he sets his gear down. Looking around, I find several parents seated. Players are gathering on the side of the field, fist-bumping, and back-slapping.
Turning to Drake, I touch his arm softly. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute,” I tell him, motioning to the school.
“You shouldn’t go alone.” His eyes turn a slightly darker blue and fill with worry. For the first time in the past few days, I wonder if this is hitting him harder than it’s hitting me.
I smile up at him and kiss his cheek. He’s a sweetheart. “I’ll be okay, Drake.” He nods with a sigh. I smile up at him and walk away to the school.
I make my way through the dimly lit hallways and find a women’s bathroom. I quickly go in and do my business, washing and drying my hands when I finish. Lately, brief moments like this alone are precious. Don’t get me wrong, I love my guys, but it’s nice to have a minute to myself. It makes me feel bad when I think of things like this, though. I don’t want them to think I don’t care or that I’m tired of them.
Turning towards the door, I blink a few times when I see one of the soccer players standing there. “You look just as hot as you did last time I saw you, babe,” he says with a snarky and confident tone.
My thoughts click when I realize he’s the guy that hit on me at the first game. Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you want?” I glare at his smirk as he pushes off the door. My eyes follow his movements as he speaks.
“Whadda ya say you and me have a pre-game party?”
“Well, I’m not sorry to say that I have a boyfriend,” I answer. His smirk grows, and he moves in front of me. A hint of confusion flickers in his eyes when I don’t step back from his attempt at intimidation, but what can I say? This kid is a worm compared to other guys I’ve fought.
“I don’t see your boyfriend anywhere,” he says, grabbing my arm. Little twerp. His grip doesn’t phase me at all as I grab his wrist, twist it, and pin it against his back.
“I don’t need a guy to fight for me,” I tell him. He cries out in pain as I kick the back of his leg, making him fall to his knees. “And if you ever touch me again, I’ll make sure you never play soccer again,” I growl, throwing him to the floor.
With that, I leave the bathroom. How come I’m always the one to get bothered or assaulted? The occurrences are growing, which is concerning. I feel like the princess that every bad guy wants.
I make my way back down the hallway to the front doors. Wh
en I push the door open, I hear a fast tap, tap, and tap sound. Spinning around, I barely miss the guy’s fist. The air around his fist slaps my face. He kicks out, and his cleats dig into my stomach, causing my breath to leave me with an ‘oomph.’
With a triumphant laugh, he throws his fist at me again, but I duck and kick his knee. A crack echoes through the room. He screams in pain and falls to the floor, holding his knee.
Men, or boys, who hurt women are the lowest of the low. I’ve had enough of it from Lucas, those kids from the beach, and now this kid. It’s ridiculous. People should go back and learn the kindergarten basics: be nice, keep your hands to yourself, mind your own business, and no means no.
“I told you never to touch me again!” I’d like to feel bad for the kid as he screams in pain, but he directly attacked me. The door bursts open, revealing a worried Drake and the rest of the soccer team peeking around his heaving body. I move to Drake’s side, where he takes a minute to look me over. His hands slide down my arms to my waist as his eyes rake over me.
“Are you okay? We heard a scream,” He says, his eyes falling to the fetal positioned boy who is busy cradling his knee and cursing now. I shake my head. Nope, it was the boy’s high-pitched, girlish scream. Drake moves me beside him, and he glares down at the kid.
“What the hell?” The coach yells, pushing through the group of teens, his face red as a fire truck. I wonder if it’s because one of his players got injured or because it delays his game.
“He came onto me, grabbed me. I gave him a fair warning and told him not to touch me again,” I tell the coach, but also look to Drake to let him know. The coach’s mouth thins at the same time his eyebrows pull together in confusion.
Sighing, I continue, “I left. When I got to the door, I heard something behind me. He tried to punch me, but I dodged, and he kicked me in the stomach.” To give proof, I lift my shirt and show the already forming bruise on my stomach. The footprint-shaped discoloration has many smaller circles, clearly proving the person who kicked me was wearing cleats.
Not So Cinderella Page 24