Chapter 7 - La La Land
NOAH
Tears stung my eyes at that moment, threatening to spill. I knew Max was bad and arrogant, but I did not expect him to go so low. Or was I deceiving myself? Even though all of the pieces were right in front of me, actions spoke louder than looks.
But I held my restraint, blinking rapidly just to push the tears back; there was no way he was going to see me cry… Never.
He took my right hand and brought it to his cheeks, palm flat. I rolled my eyes, trying to understand the passionate gesture.
"What are you doing?" I inquired, attempting to pull away.
"Nothing happened," he said, swirling me around until I was facing the door. "I was only teasing you."
Our parents entered at that time, and I knew why he had switched in the facade; he didn't want his father overhearing this type of conversation, and neither did I want my mother to—she might as well grant me an early death.
I was always the daughter who never missed an opportunity to embarrass her, and I was not ready to add to that list just yet.
"Get away from me," I said through gritted teeth, wondering why he had to hold me like that, with my ass nudging his thighs and my back against his solid chest.
To others it was a normal gesture, but not to me; the kiss was a starter, and ever since then, I noticed that something in me was starting to break... like a barrier or something similar to that, and to think I was about to cry in front of him.
The heat from our bodies heated the room even more as he brought his lips to my ears, whispering.
"We made a deal; stay out of my way and I will do the same," he says, and I am about to moan. That was my weak point, and the temptation was so strong that I almost gave in.
"I see you guys are getting along well," Mr. Hawthorne commented.
Overcoming the urge, I smiled, but Max was quick to respond.
"Yes, Dad, I think I am starting to see other good qualities in Noah that I was too blind to see before," Max said, letting go of me, and I had the strongest desire to punch his nose.
"Yes, Noah is a good girl; I knew you two would get along eventually," my mother adds, as is customary for her to praise me in public while scorning me behind closed doors.
"How did it go at Chloe's house last night?" My mother inquires, and I cannot help but wonder what she is implying.
"Chloe's place," I inquired, my gaze shifting from her to Max. With that stunning smile on his face, I knew he was up to no good.
"Was that what Max said?" I asked, pouring coffee into a cup. My parents had already taken their seats, and Max had joined them.
"Actually, you did," she said, casting a suspicious eye at me. This was leverage, and I was not going to let her use it against me. I might even be grounded if she discovered the truth.
“Yes, I dropped her off there, didn’t I, stepsister?” Max asked, blinking at me, and I followed up immediately.
"You did," I replied with a smile of my own. I reached into the back of my jeans and took out my phone, scrolling down to see the message Max had sent in my place. He had covered up for me, but who had granted him permission in the first place?
My mother goes over and kisses Max on the cheek. "Thank you for introducing Noah to your friends; I heard Chloe comes from a wealthy family," she says excitedly.
Mr. Hawthorne clears his throat, and she is cautious about her words before returning to her seat. He was not clearly in favor of social discrimination.
Max stands up and leaves the table. It was almost time for school, and I knew I could not be late, either.
Before I could leave, my mother wrapped her hand around my wrist, a big smile on her face.
"I told you Nick was wonderful, and now you are actually seeing it for yourself."
"Yes, Mom," I said, then left the kitchen to get ready for school.
********
"Max, you are such a dick!" I cursed angrily, and everyone turned to look at me.
The long driveway of the school was lined with neatly cut lawns, flowerbeds, and rows of tall trees, giving the place a calm and serious air, in stark contrast to the shocked expressions of the students staring at me.
Obviously, no one has ever stood up to the golden boy at school before.
"I am sorry, do I know you?" he said, feigning nonrecognition and staring at me as if I were an alien.
"You..." I dragged, sending dagger eyes and fury radiating in my being. I could have choked him at that moment and been done with it.
Telling my mother via text that I was at Chloe's was not enough; he also told her that I thought he was wonderful.
To hell with staying out of each other's way; he was constantly getting on my nerves.
"I mean...I would not mind getting to know you," he bluffed. I inhaled deeply to keep my anger at bay.
The girl beside him approached me, clearly angry at my outburst. She did not look familiar. That only meant he had different bitches for different occasions because she looked too decent to be in a gang group.
It was not that Chloe appeared reckless; she was simply too open-minded, which I liked.
She was wearing a skirt that was shorter than the school uniform, but who cared?
Her sleek, long, red head gleamed in the sunlight, and she wore the newest Louis Vuitton handbag, which was pink and elegant, along with nails that showed she had never been under physical stress.
She glared at me and assessed me before asking, "Excuse me, who are you?"
"I just moved here," I responded, curious as to what she was talking about. "Do you have an issue with that?"
“Yes, is your dad a math professor or something? Does he work in tech?” she asked, and I was confused at the direction the inquiry was going.
“No, just my uncle; he is a mechanic,” I responded. She was clearly trying to put me in my place.
“No wonder you smell like diesel oil, chip off the old exhaust pipe, I guess.”
I replied, obviously hurt, "What?! My uncle just passed away, and I would appreciate it if you did not talk about him like that." Uncle Richard was the only person who ever had a different opinion of me, and while his passing was one thing, I could not stand to have him insulted.
"I am just saying...the truth, which is...ew...you stink." Do you still live in the shop or something? You know we have gym showers that you could use," she says, blinking and sneering in my face as the students around me begin to laugh at me.
Yes, she left a bruise, but it would not be me to do the same.
I moved closer to her, getting so close that our bodies almost touched.
"At least, my father taught me manners; yours clearly did not," I said, as her cheeks flushed and her smile vanished, replaced by a frown. Her eyes held something sinister.
"How dare you!" she exclaims, raising her hands in the air. Max is by her side halfway through, holding her wrist while muttering something that I could hear clearly.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” he said, and I knew it wasn't just anger in her eyes; there was fear, raw and primitive.
