“I wouldn’t marry her if you paid me,” Harlem muttered under her breath.
“We got that,” Natan grinned. “Now can we please start having fun and forget about this argument?”
“Maybe if she stops being a bitch,” Harlem muttered.
“Maybe you should take your own advice.” Everyone looked at me, surprised, and I shrugged. “Someone had to say it.” Estella giggled, and I shot her a surprised look, but she was already too busy with her milkshake to notice. “So, why are we here again?”
“Because I wanted to get to know you better.” Harlem winked at me. She sure was ballsy. I kinda liked it. “I just thought, we’ve spent so many years in school together and I still don’t know you as well as I want.”
“Well, ask away if you want to know anything,” I got out. “Anything you want.”
"Alright," she purred. "What happened the night Pandora Amberly disappeared?"
The table went silent. I saw Natan swallowing thickly, and Estella distractedly spooning her milkshake into her mouth. Her eyes met mine and we stared at one another.
"I don't know why you think I know anything about that night," I muttered while Harlem stared at me. "I had nothing to do with Pandora's disappearance."
"Of course not," she said. "I just thought you might know more than you're letting on, since you guys were best friends and all."
Estella kept staring at me, and I took my eyes off Harlem's before replying, "It's not my fault Pandora went missing."
"Then whose is it?" Harlem demanded.
I closed my eyes, rubbing the bridge of my nose. I can't tell her the truth. I can't tell anyone the truth.
"You said I could ask you anything," she complained after a moment's pause. "I'm just doing what you told me to do, Milo."
"Maybe a less sensitive topic would be better," Natan cut in, laughing easily. I turned my attention to him. It was rare that I felt angry at my brother, but this was one of those moments. If it weren't for you, maybe I could tell her the truth. Then again, it's not my truth to tell, is it, Natan?
"All of that was a long time ago," I told Harlem. "And we're not supposed to talk about it. I already spoke to the police when it happened."
"And?" Harlem asked.
My brother cleared his throat, reaching over for her hand over the table. Estella's eyes followed him, narrowing when they made contact. "Let's leave it, Harlem. A topic for another day, perhaps. Let's talk about something else now."
"Alright," she shrugged carelessly, making eyes at my brother even after he pulled his hand back. "I'll leave it. But just so you know, it's painfully obvious you're hiding something."
"Of course they are," Estella cut in for the first time, her tone bitter. "Those Earnshaw boys always stick together."
I kept quiet, knowing she was right, but Natan wasn't having it. "All of this is ancient history," he laughed. "I thought we'd moved on."
"It's hard to move on when your best friend's been missing for four years," Estella muttered. "Especially when you know..."
"Nothing," Natan hurried to say. "Especially when you know nothing at all about her disappearance. Right, Estella?"
"Right," she mumbled, stirring her drink and staring at me over the top of her glass. "Nothing at all."
The silence that lay upon the table was uncomfortable, and we all took a moment to check our phones. It wasn't until I was halfway done with my milkshake that I felt a hand on my thigh. I raised my eyes to Harlem, who was grinning at me like the Cheshire cat.
"Um," I muttered, but she pressed a finger to her lips, making me shut up. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, but her hand stayed put. I looked at Estella across the table, noticing her eyes were glued to me. Does she know what Harlem's doing under the table? Does it piss her off? God, I fucking hope it does. I cocked a brow at her and laid my palm on top of Harlem's. I could feel Estella bristling from across the table, and now she leaned in closer to my brother, who was still cluelessly browsing his phone. She grabbed him by the chin, and the next moment, her lips were on his and they were full-on making out in the booth.
"Ugh, PDA much?" Harlem groaned. "Come on, Milo. Let's go pick a song on the jukebox."
I got up, and her hand slipped from my thigh and came to touch my fingers. Fuck, are we holding hands now? This double date is so messed up. She wrapped her fingers around mine and led me to the jukebox in the corner of the room. I felt Estella's burning gaze on my back as we got away from them.
At the jukebox, Harlem picked a song and I paid for it. Then, she wrapped her arms around my neck.
"I wanna dance," she told me.
Unsure of what to do, I put my hands around her waist, hoping to God my cock wouldn't cooperate that day. The last thing I fucking needed was a hard-on for Harlem.
She kept staring at me, and I looked anywhere but into her eyes as we danced to the song. I couldn't handle the weight of her stare. I couldn't handle anything anymore, not after the question she'd posed at the table. Why the fuck would she ask about Pandora? Pandora was off-limits. Everyone knew the topic was forbidden.
"I know you know more than you're letting on," Harlem told me in a soft whisper now. "I don't really give a shit about Pandora Amberly, you know. I just like pushing Estella's buttons."
"Why?" I wondered aloud.
"Because it's so fucking obvious she likes you," Harlem rolled her eyes, laughing. "I mean, she's dating your brother, for fuck's sake, all the while making eyes at you."
"She doesn't like me," I laughed. "She never did."
"You're blind, Milo Earnshaw," Harlem told me. "Blind as a goddamn bat. But at least you have me, and I know how to play this right. You want to make her jealous?"
I contemplated her question, and before I could stop myself, the answer slipped from my lips, so easy it made me wonder if this was what I'd been trying to do all day anyway. "Yeah, I do."
"Good." She leaned in closer, and before I could stop her, her lips were on mine. She was kissing me, her lips soft and pillowy, her tongue gently prying my lips open. I couldn't stop her. I was frozen on the spot, with the school's newest mean girl latched onto my mouth and still, all I could think about was Estella.
My cock woke up, and I groaned. Harlem mistook it for wanting more, and she leaned into me, kissing me long and hard while I just stood there. Goddamn, this is about the last thing in the world I need right now.
Once she was done, she pulled back, giving me a self-satisfied wink before grabbing my hand and pulling me back to the table. When we got back, Estella was curled up on Natan's lap, and he had his hand on the back of her neck. A weird, bittersweet feeling twisted my stomach into a thousand knots. She wouldn't look at us.
"I think it's about time we got going," I muttered, and Harlem was quick to nod.
"Yeah. Milo, can you give me a ride home?" she asked. "My friend dropped me off earlier." She batted her lashes. "Please, pretty please?"
"Of course." I got up, my eyes glued to Estella who was absent-mindedly toying with Natan's necklace. "I'll see you at home, Nate?"
"Sure thing," he nodded, waving us off. "Have fun, and don't get into too much trouble."
I followed Harlem out of Clancy's, and she stopped in front of my car, making a face at it. "This is your ride?"
"Yeah," I mumbled. "Sorry."
She didn't say anything else, just eyed my brother's fancy new car hopefully before getting into my own beat-up car. I turned on the radio, which kept skipping every few seconds, and started driving.
"Where do you live again?"
"Rockwood Ave," she said. "You were there at a party last year, don't you remember?"
"Sure," I lied through my teeth. "I remember."
All I fucking remembered from that party was a sinful little pink dress Estella wore.
During the ride, Harlem chatted about Wildwood, and I gave my thoughts when she addressed me, but she seemed pretty happy to just talk about stuff. It took twenty minutes to reach her place, and when we did, she l
eaned over and kissed me on the cheek before reaching for the door handle. I felt like a prick for being so distracted, and I called out her name when she was already out of the car. She leaned down to look at me.
"Hey, you wanna do this again?" I offered lamely.
She smiled, saying, "No, Milo. I don't."
"Was I such a shitty date?" I furrowed my brows.
"Nah," she grinned. "Just a very distracted one. Like, it's obvious you like someone else, not me."
"I'm sorry," I managed. "I don't think I do, really. I just..."
"Deal with it, Milo," she suggested. "Better now than later. And if you change your mind, you know where to find me." She winked, closing the door and sashaying toward her house.
I sat there for a few minutes, making sure she got in okay, before pulling away from the curb. The ride back home was quiet and uneventful, but my mind was anything but. My thoughts were swimming with what she'd said, about liking someone else.
I don't really like anyone, do I? It's been a long time since I did. Pandora's gone. Estella's completely off-limits. I don't have anyone else I'm interested in. Or do I?
I pulled up in front of our house and grabbed my jacket before heading into the house. I called out when I got in, and my dad's voices responded from the kitchen. I smiled, walking inside and joining them while they made dinner.
"What's cooking, good looking?" I asked Dad as he stirred two pots at once.
"We're doing a one-pot chili today."
"But you have two pots," I pointed out the obvious.
"We ran into some problems," Dad called out from the other end of the room. "Brace yourself, we might order takeout tonight."
"A pizza actually sounds amazing," I told them. Their dinners were usually amazing, but even they messed up sometimes.
Dad glanced at the two pots, one containing a bunch of gross-looking veggies that were overcooked, and the other brimming with minced beef, enough for a family of eight.
"Okay, I admit defeat," he said, sighing. "Pizza it is."
We went into the living room and ordered our usual. Dad turned on the TV and they asked about school. I told them about my day before mentioning the double date I'd gone on.
"Harlem?" Dad made a face at me. "That redhead girl?"
"Yeah," I muttered.
"She always struck me as a busy body," Dad admitted. "Does she still gossip as much as she used to?"
"Definitely," I laughed.
"She's your type?" Dad wondered out loud. "Never would have thought it."
"She... Natan set it up," I admitted. "But I don't like anyone else right now, so I thought what the hell."
"You don't like anyone?" my other dad asked from across the room. "I beg to differ."
"I'm too busy with school," I sighed. "And Miss James is helping me with the Eastvale stuff."
"Any news on that front?"
I was about to lie, but I decided to tell them the truth. "I got in."
"What?" Dad whooped on the couch, grinning at me. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because it..." I groaned. "It means Estella didn't get in."
"Oh," Dad said lamely. "You worried about her?"
"I just know what her family is like," I sighed. "They're going to ride her hard about this, and I don't want to be the reason she gets in trouble."
"You got in fair and square," Dad said firmly. "It's not your fault."
"I know," I said, but the thought still gave me a weird feeling. I turned in my essay late. Estella worked on hers so hard... Did I really deserve to get in? "I just feel bad for her."
"She'll be fine," Dad called out before heading into the kitchen for some plates. "Estella's a tough chick."
My other dad didn't seem as convinced, and he gave me a concerned look, muttering, "If you want to talk about it, I'm always here."
"Thanks, Dad," I managed. "I know."
I got in fair and square, just like Dad said, I reminded myself. This isn't my fault.
Yet the ache in my chest wouldn't go away.
8
Date: September 7th, 2019, 6.47 p.m.
Place: Estella's house
Estella
I had made a decision that week, and I was determined to go through with it.
With Natan and mine's nine-month anniversary coming up, I'd decided it was high time to tell my father about him. I knew the implications of my decision, but I was done keeping secrets. I was almost eighteen, and ready to finally face papa's wrath. Besides, how angry could he be? I hadn't done anything wrong. All my friends were dating already, even the ones with super strict parents. I'd just have to make papa see things through my eyes. I was good at sweet-talking my way out of things, anyway.
We were sitting down for a family dinner, with my sister, Romilly, joining us for once. She looked glamorous as ever in an all-white ensemble and with pencil-thin heels on. She and papa had never gotten along though, so the air in the ornate dining room was tense as we all dug into the food Mabel had prepared.
"How are things at Uni?" mama asked my sister hopefully. But Romilly just shrugged, glancing at papa before turning back to her food without giving an answer.
"Answer your mother," papa said.
"Things are fine," Romilly muttered robotically.
"Care to elaborate?" papa suggested, raising his brows as he patted his lips with a cloth napkin, engraved with our family name. The fake one. We hadn't been the Hernandez family for years now, not since papa's climb to fame.
"No," Romilly said, and I held back a snicker. My sister didn't take shit from anyone, least of all papa. She was perpetually trying to convince me to leave this all behind, but I knew there was no chance of me doing that. I needed to protect mama. Now that my sister had moved out, we only had each other, and if I left, she'd be left to papa's mercy. And I knew as well as anyone he didn't have much of it.
Papa sneered at my sister, but Romilly paid him no mind. Mama glanced at me from across the table, begging with her eyes for me to diffuse the tension. It was a situation I'd found myself in plenty of times before, and I knew exactly what to do. I'd wanted to keep my big news hidden until dessert, but I told myself there was no time like the present as I cleared my throat and folded my napkin on my lap.
"I actually have some news," I piped up.
"About Eastvale?" Papa looked up from cutting into his enchilada. "I thought you would've received your admission letter by now, mija."
"No." My teeth dug into my bottom lip, knowing I was lying. But before papa could notice, I shook the thought out and gave him a brilliant smile. "I actually wanted to tell you about a boy I've been seeing."
"A boy?" Papa repeated.
"Oh, Natan?" Romilly asked, giving me a smile from her seat. "That's great, Stells. Haven't you been seeing him for a while now?"
A deathly silence lay upon the table. Shit, she's just blown my cover. I shot her a warning glance and she paled just as mama laughed nervously, butting in. "Oh, Romilly dear, you must have him confused with Milo Earnshaw, his brother. He and Estella were best friends!"
"Of course," Romilly tried to save face. "Yes, I remember now. I got everything mixed up."
"So, who are you seeing, Estella?" papa asked in his steely voice. "Milo?"
"No," I shook my head. "His brother, Natan."
"Isn't he a year younger than you?" papa wondered out loud, and I nodded. "That's no good, Estella. You want to find a capable boy that's a little older. Guys his age only have one thing on their mind."
"It's not like that," I argued, even though I knew it was exactly like that. Natan had been pressuring me about sex for months. Not asking outright but dropping hints I shot down in seconds. I could tell he was getting upset - not just about being denied that part of me, but about my efforts to squash that topic before we ever discussed it. "Natan doesn't care about that stuff."
"Then what, pray tell, does he care about?" Papa inquired. "Lacrosse?"
"Yeah," I said in a small voice. "He's doing really well on
the team, he'll probably get a scholarship to-"
"Probably?" Papa frowned. "Not good enough, Estella."
I swallowed his words like a bitter pill, silently commanding myself not to argue with him. I could never win in this situation, anyway. Papa would find a way to make me lose.
"Well, he's a very nice boy from what I remember," mama said after a moment's pause. "Of course, I remember Milo a bit better... But I'm sure we'll get to know Natan soon enough."
"How long has this been going on?" papa demanded, spearing a crispy potato with his fork. "This Natan boy. How long have you been seeing him for?"
"A few... weeks," I managed, hoping he wouldn't catch me in my lie.
"And you didn't think to ask for permission first?" He raised his brows at me, obviously displeased. "So, when you've been going on dates with this boy, you've been lying to us about it?"
"Not exactly lying," I whispered. "I told you I was with friends."
"Seems to me like he's more than a friend to you, mija," papa said calmly, glaring at me as he ate. "Seems to me like he's a lot more than just a friend."
"Ricardo," mama said gently. "It's okay. I'm sure Estella knows to keep things appropriate between the two of them."
"Of course she does," Romilly added with confidence, shooting me a smile. "I trust you, little sis."
"Thanks," I muttered.
"I'm not so sure," papa said, pushing his plate away and crossing his arms. "And I don't like that you lied to us for weeks, either."
Oh papa, if only you knew the truth.
"I'm sorry," I said, swallowing my pride. I knew there was no arguing with him. I had to accept that I was wrong in his eyes.
"I just have one question," papa went on. "Have you been inappropriate with this boy?"
"Ricardo..." mama said, but he raised a hand at her.
"I just want to know if my daughter is still pure," he said. "I think every father has the right to that."
"Hardly," Romilly huffed, but even she was rendered speechless when he stared her down.
"Estella, answer my question," papa said calmly. "Have you slept with this boy?"
Boys That Read: A High School Romance Page 6