Hello! Next chapter is up. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy this one!
- THEXOXOPLAYGROUND . NET –
X marks the gossip spot.
Hey love.
Spring break is finally here! I'm so excited to head down to one of my family's beachside villas, sip on some frozen margaritas, and tan the day away (without burning my skin to a crisp), while watching cute college boys surf or play beach volleyball (behind my new, limited-edition Jacqueline sunglasses). Ah, what a break it's going to be!
But I'm rather interested in how you're spending your spring break. But I also know that you're interested in the activities of a certain few people. Well, as I always do, I've got you covered.
I know that a certain new couple is heading out towards a private beach. I wonder what they'll be up to. I also know that someone is heading upstate to experience a week or so of nothing but partying and who-knows-what.
Now, while I might be away for a week, rest assured that I'll still be hearing from my little birds while I'm gone. Oh, don't worry, I won't miss anything. I never do.
Eye spy.
Younger J and I successfully finishing an undercover job (not that kind!) and putting an end to the cortisone ring in the elite athletes' circle. Some questions: one, those still happen in high school? Two, where's E? Three, where's K? Four, what do they think about this?!
V's desk has been suspiciously empty for a while. Where's he?
W spotted purchasing some new luggage at the T&L store. Going so soon? We miss you already!
EO walking out of I's house looking rather… angry? Oh no, what's happening?
Older J sitting out on his balcony, with only a bottle of Ballantine's Finest as his company for the night. College getting on your nerves?
D has been under the radar for a while, but it seems he's doing well. Happy for you!
K and I enjoying a much-needed spa date to kick off the break.
xoxo.
You'll keep coming back to me.
old flames, new games.
Ingrid was dressed like a cheerleader. Of all things, she thought, as she longed for the familiar comfort of seeing herself in more muted colors. But undercover was undercover. It took her days to prepare herself mentally for the role, mostly because Karen's face was a little too well known in that circle for her to play it. Plus, she wasn't as athletic as Ingrid was. She just had trouble with the dance part, but her athleticism had helped her pass the auditions with flying colors. She shook her head.
The other girls on the safety patrol weren't as experienced as Ingrid was in terms of undercover work, and while she argued that this would have been a good learning experience for the others, the operation was too delicate to mess up. Jared had insisted that she take the role, along with Joseph, who was taking the role of a newly-transferred lacrosse varsity student, Oliver White, from Florida. And she had to admit, he played well.
Hmmm?
Well, this was probably the only sport he'd be able to beat Fillmore at. This, and archery.
"Hey, Ashley, if you're not too busy staring at Oliver, we could really use your help spotting Cheri!" yelled the dark-skinned beauty, Chloe Carmichael.
"Sorry," said Ingrid, as she rushed over to spot the basket toss. "Got a little distracted."
"No shit," said Chloe, amusedly watching as Ingrid ran to her place. "He's cute, I'll admit. Though, he should be a little less shy. Doesn't suit him." She was a moody girl, seemed like she was always on PMS. Ingrid wasn't suspecting her of being part of the ring, though she highly suspected she was a user of the drug. She was one of the top cheerleaders in the squad, and was being scouted by some of the top universities already, even though she was just in junior year. Ingrid suspected that she was using the drug because she'd be in pain one day, then completely okay the next. Unless she had some rapid regeneration power, this was suspicious to Ingrid.
But now, Ingrid had to play along. As she spotted Cheri's basket toss, her thoughts drifted. She knew she wasn't completely over Joseph, but she wasn't exactly keen on being involved with him again. She'd tried moving on too quickly, but the pain was still there. Even after months. She didn't get it. It was difficult to be in the same room as he was, but she knew how to mask her pain. Being on the same case, and working in such close proximity certainly didn't help things.
But she genuinely enjoyed her relationship with Eric so far. If Joseph were the perfect gentleman, Eric would come in at a very tight second. Maybe it was because he was a genuine sweetheart. He still had his passion for animals. Last week, he'd taken her to his ancestral mansion somewhere near Riverview. He'd showed her his family of pet animals, and talked about each one of them like he was talking about a dear friend. He let his parents meet her, and she was surprised at how normal his family was, given his bad boy reputation.
"Great job, Ash!" exclaimed Cheri, with a huge smile on her face, being her usual, chipper self. "You're so strong! I can't believe you never did cheer before!"
"Crossfit," she said nonchalantly. "See you tomorrow." She noticed Joseph approaching out of the corner of her eye.
"Hey, Ashley," he said, in a considerably lower and an oddly accented voice. He was good at this. "Mind if we take a walk?"
"Sure," she said, ignoring the eyes that followed them. When they got to a relatively secure spot near the field, they checked around before beginning to talk in hushed whispers.
"Nice hair," he commented. Ingrid had dyed her hair into a dark ash blonde for this. It shocked her at first, but it grew on her in the last weeks. She wasn't keen on keeping it, though.
"Thanks… I think," she said. "What've you got?"
He ran his hand through his now-brown hair before he spoke. He objected to having an undercut, but he did it anyway. It suited him better, in Ingrid's opinion. "Weston's clean. It's Pollock who's not. Seems he's got the motive for it. He needs a quick buck to pay off some of his gambling debts. And I saw his locker. I swiped his logbook for a few minutes, but no names. Just a set of numbers, with one letter scattered in them."
"Crackers," she murmured. "No one on my end, just seems like they're just bent on getting their fix of the stuff for college applications and scholarships."
He shook his head, handing her his phone. She started scrolling through the photos of the logbook. "You do what you gotta do. What do you make of the logs though?"
"Pretty sure they're just tracking numbers. Do you—"
"Shh!" Joseph said, covering her mouth quickly, just as one of his lacrosse teammates passed by, giving him a knowing smile. Joseph played along with a smirk and a nod of his head. He quickly disappeared into the supply room.
"Pollock," he said. "You were saying?"
Ingrid's eyes widened. "I don't think those are just tracking numbers. They're room numbers in a particular building, with dates of every time they delivered the goods."
"And there's one today?"
"Tomorrow," she said, eyes narrowed. "We're going to need to come up with a plan, and fast. And we've got to alert patrol ASAP."
"Got it," he said. "Come on, let's get out of here." He put his hand tentatively on her shoulder, and she fought the urge to flinch. It was welcome, yet unwelcome at the same time. Maybe it was time to forgive, and move on.
When they were in plain view of the cheering squad, whose members were pretending not to watch, she turned to him and smiled, and said goodbye. He lingered for a short while, then left quickly, and some of the cheerleaders swarmed around her with excited questions.
"Oh my gosh are you like together now?"
"When did this happen?"
"Omg this is soooo going on Playground!"
"How?!"
She pretended to be flattered with the attention, laughing slightly. "Let's just say we've got a date tomorrow." Little did they know, she thought.
Ooh.
you can never know anyone completely.
Karen was busy reorganizing the evidence room. She'd put this task off for so long, and work piled up. She'd spent four hours alone just on filtering through counterfeit items. She'd already tossed an entire bag of items, mostly over five years old. The reason why she had been doing this was because Jared had made her the Forensics Head for the next year. As her form of gratitude, she decided to clean up the evidence room.
Big mistake.
"The pains of the obsessive-compulsive…" she sighed, wiping off a light sheen of sweat off her forehead.
"Need some help?" called a familiar voice.
"Fillmore!" she said, standing up. It still surprised Fillmore at how tall she was getting, because she was starting to reach somewhere near his height. Maybe he was just one of those late bloomers. "I could, but are you sure you're actually down to do this? Look at me!" she said, laughing.
"You're good," he said. "Nothing on my beat yet. Just waiting on Joe and Ingrid for the cortisone case."
"Same. Easier to pass the time doing this, but it gets exhausting," she said. Fillmore pulled out a small Ziploc bag of counterfeit Happy Cat Head coupons, frowning slightly.
"Three years old. How's the business going?" Karen's family had helped import a larger range of the Happy Cat Head merchandise, following the success of their businesses in importing other Japanese products into the market. That explained why she wore a Happy Cat Head shirt most of the time in middle school. She was essentially a walking advertisement.
"Booming. Dad's been busy lately, though. Mom has been holding up her end too, and let's just say Angeline and I are slowly being turned into entrepreneurs."
"What do you mean?" he asked, putting them into the recycling bin.
"Well, young as we are, they're getting us to do some menial tasks," she said. "Like filling out those boring export documents. They tried explaining how the process goes but all I get is that I'd better be correct about all of the things I'm writing. Else I'd land in a lot of legal trouble. I think they're planning to retire early."
"At least you've got a future in that stuff…" he said, and grinned. "Hire me in the future if you need someone to make sure people are doing their jobs. I'll do well, promise."
She laughed. "Thanks, Fillmore. Hey, your phone's light is blinking," she said, gesturing to the precariously positioned cell phone that was threatening to fall out of his jeans' front pocket.
"Oh, 'scuse me for a minute," he said, pulling out his phone. It was a text message from an unknown number.
F, corti date tmrw. Plan Delta. Meet FMB-204, in 20 mins. – I+J
"Well we got a plan Delta needed for the cortisone operation. You up for it?" he asked, peering at Karen over his phone.
"Delta? Hmm, where is it?"
Plan Delta was a code name that their group created following some operations in middle school. They had a name for several tried and tested methods for busts. Delta was the most flexible of the plans, which were used when there were a lot of variables to account for. The basic outline of the plan was that the key persons would enter the area alone, but leave an indicator in a particular spot outside or near the action point (or bust scene) if something went wrong, which was triggered by a discreet accessory on their bodies. The indicators had two outputs: either SOS or FLEE, which were flashed through Morse code. Backup officers would be strategically placed around campus, such as identified path points or destinations.
"Fiske Math Building," he said. "We'll meet in 20 minutes."
"All right, why not," she said. "Anything to get me out of this room."
Fillmore helped her pack up some of the remaining things on the floor, and they set out for the math building, carrying some old math books that were unclaimed from the patrol's lost and found.
"I have to ask, though," Fillmore started, as they walked towards the old brick building. "Are you okay with the two of them working this case together?"
"It's fine," she said. "I'm a little drained though, not being able to talk to him, but I think I trust him enough not to do anything stupid. I've talked to Jared, and he had some really interesting things to say about Joe."
"Really? Like what?"
"A lot. I guess I didn't know him as well as I thought, but it was great to talk to Jared. I think you know that I've really, really liked him since seventh grade, but I didn't know if I wanted to be with him," she said. "He said that it's because of the way he's just naturally has everything. He doesn't know how to choose when he has to. And I guess, with that, to commit. And that's the kind of guy I want."
"Sounds about right," he said. "Though, I've never really thought to give committing a lot of thought just yet. It's more on me seeing how things'll work out. Maybe that's how he sees it too."
"I guess so," she admitted, tugging on a loose lock of hair. "I just hope that he won't give up on me or tire of me too quickly. I've waited pretty long for this, and I don't want another breakup."
He nodded. "I understand. Don't take it too seriously, maybe not yet. I mean, we've still got a long way to go. If you expect more, the bigger your chance of being disappointed right? Just have fun with it, I guess. The other things will follow naturally."
Karen smiled. "Such sage wisdom, Fillmore."
"And yet I have no idea where that came from," he admitted, laughing. "Come on, we've got five minutes to get there!"
no one gets everything.
"Ange, eat, please. You're getting thinner every time I see you. And I see you a lot," said Jared, as she picked at her salad.
They were out on a date after not seeing each other for several days. He had gone to Harvard with his father to accompany him for a legal conference, though his own purpose was really to scout the area for prospective dormitories. Next week, he was off to New York, then Connecticut, and wouldn't be seeing Angeline for about a week. The week after, he would be flying to Oxford with his mother, to see his aunt, and to check out the school. He had never been to the United Kingdom before, and he was looking forward to it.
Not so much today, because Angeline wasn't eating well again.
"You're overreacting," she said, squeezing his hand. "I'm fine, I'm just worried over applications, that's all. And you do know that it's hard not seeing you."
He sighed. Somehow, he felt she wasn't telling the entire truth. "Right. I'm sorry that I have to be gone a lot. I'm just… obsessed with finding my place. Kinda."
"I get it, don't worry," she said. "It's just that we do it in different ways, and different levels."
He cut her a slice of grilled steak, and transferred it on her plate. "You're eating that, no buts."
He looked at her, carefully imprinting every curve of her heart-shaped face into his mind, as she silently chewed on her food. He wanted to remember her face, every moment that they were apart. Angeline was a petite figure compared to the taller Karen, he mused, who stood at a good 5'6" compared to her height of 5'3". It made interaction slightly difficult, especially with him bordering between 5'11" and 6'. His mother told him he'd probably still grow in the next few years.
His phone lit up, and he checked the screen. It was a message from Joseph.
Bust was a success! Told you that our plans work! Spring break here we go!
He grinned, imagining his brother's voice in his head, and wearing his signature lazy smile that girls loved so much. Before he could pick up his phone to text back a reply, the screen updated with a follow-up message.
P.S. I can't wait to get rid of this hair color. I look like a total prep. I still hate you for making me do this…
"Who's that?" she asked.
"Joe. His assignment went well. I'm proud of him," he said, as he tapped out a reply.
"That's great. Do you think he'll succeed you?"
"Hmm. Too soon to say. I think he could do with a lot more leadership preparation. He's good, but I don't think he's got what it takes to take the lead just yet. Maybe he needs more opportunities. And, he's part of a good crew. Even if he won't lead them, I'm happy, and confident in them to leave the patrol in their hands."
"Karen's really grateful that you gave her the post, by the way," she said, a small smile on her face. "She's surprised, though in a good way. She's the first sophomore to get the position."
"If anything, she deserves it," he said, placing a hand on hers. "She's good at what she does. She's one of the best. I know she's not doing this just for college applications. I know she loves it."
"She really does," she said. After a hesitant pause, she continued, her hand somehow feeling stiff in his. "Well. I need to tell you something too."
"What is it?"
"I'm moving out right after graduation," she said. "I've decided on Berklee. We've already got an apartment in Boston, somehow my parents believed that one of us would end up there."
He nodded his head, smiling. "Congratulations, love." Neither of them said anything for a while. He had a feeling there was more, so he waited for her to speak. She continued to eat her salad. It was a fine dining restaurant with only a few people inside. The restaurant was only a five-minute drive to the Tehamas' sprawling home.
"That's not all, Jared," she said, hesitantly, breaking the silence. She sighed, and looked into his green eyes before staring down at the table. "I'm sick. I'm not sure what's happening to me. I'm… still waiting on the tests. I don't know how bad it is. It's my brain, I don't know what's wrong."
Jared just blinked, staring at his empty plate, as she continued to speak. But her words weren't making their way into his head. All he knew was that she was probably terminally ill. It explained so much.
"Say something. Please," she begged, her blue-violet eyes beginning to swim behind tears.
He finally looked up, his face still blank. "Will you be okay?"
"I think so. My parents are doing their best to find someone that can help. I'm sorry… I didn't mean to spring it on you like this. I just can't keep it from you anymore. It hurts to keep it all a secret," she said, her bottom lip trembling. "Karen doesn't know. No one else does. Only you, only my parents."
A few minutes of silence followed. Finally, Jared reached out and took her hand. "I'll help you through this. I promise. No matter what happens."
A tear slid down her cheek, which he gently wiped away. "Come on, I'll take you home now."
He paid the check immediately, and drove Angeline home. They were both quiet along the way, and the short goodbye felt strange. He knew it'd be a while before he saw her again, but he also wondered whether she would even last that long. It was a disturbing thought, especially because she probably wasn't even that ill. He wasn't sure. But it was ironic, really, how he was getting everything he wanted, yet the people around him were beginning to disappear. It wasn't enough that he lost one of his best officers through Vallejo. Now, he was facing the possibility of losing the love of his life as well.
the why and how.
Vallejo had unexpectedly found himself opening up to O'Farrell. The two of them found themselves coming to the same bar every so often, and despite Vallejo's initial hesitation, he had opened up to his problems to Danny, who, surprisingly, had very wise advice to share. Most of the time.
He'd been quiet lately, mainly because his mother was nearing her final days. Any day now, and she would be passing on. But Danny, being Danny, chose to view things optimistically.
"Sure, I was sad for a while," he said, "But I realized that hey, dying's a part of life. We'll all experience it one day. It's not something that's apart from it, 'cause you know, everything in life comes in pairs. You got your guy and girl, sun and moon, land and sea, emotions and logic, blah blah blah, but you get it right?"
Vallejo nodded, sipping on the cheapest beer he could get. If anything, drinking would be his vice at the moment. It was a relatively good day. He made progress in terms of accounting for his family's assets, and the company's as well. From there, perhaps he could already begin to regroup. And right now, O'Farrell was actually spouting out some good stuff.
"So yeah, everything in life comes in pairs. They balance each other out, see. Life and death, for instance, are there cause the world can't really sustain everything and everyone born. Everything has to die to make room for new life. I'd just like to think that should my mom die now, she'll become a new person, and that new person will get to experience life, just like she did. I wouldn't know that person, maybe, but at least, I'd take comfort in the fact that my mom's still going to be around. Right here," he said, pointing to his heart. "'Course, it'll be sad when I realize I've lost her, but I'll be okay. It'll all be okay."
"I don't know how you do it, honestly," said Vallejo. "I don't see how you're so able to see all the good in every situation. It's actually pretty amazing."
"Well, it's something I learned," he said, taking a sip of beer. "This watering hole's been my favourite for a while 'cause they don't really care about underage drinking as long as you don't do stupid things. I was drinking here one day, after I found out how badly ill my mom was, and I had a good chat with one of the regulars. He had a pretty tough life, but all's good now that he's worked hard and succeeded. He told me to watch the 3 Idiots. It was a great film! All is well, all is well," he sang. "You should try watching it. It's a feel good movie. I learned a lot, but my favourite lesson from there was that the value of the things we do is more important than the ends and the means. It's the purpose."
"That's pretty deep," said Vallejo. "But thanks, man. I guess I could use a good movie. And some good advice. My family's falling apart. I don't know how to see the good in that."
"Think of it this way—it's only through errors that you see how you can fix things, right? You know what's wrong, but now, your challenge is to find the best way to fix things. Like I was saying, the bad things happen for a reason. Without the bad, you won't be able to tell what's good."
"Yeah, but how? It's so hard to find a solution to a family that doesn't want to fix itself."
"That, my man, is your solution. You need to convince them how important it is for you to stay together. Why is it important? Remember, he who knows his why will figure out all hows."
Vallejo nodded. The kid was wise beyond his years. He didn't know how or why, but somehow, that made sense. Now, he was more committed than ever to fixing his family.
my mystery man.
"I like you with that kind of hair. I think you should keep it," said Eric, who stroked her hair as she lay down on his lap. Every day, she would wear a black wig, fashioned after her original cut, going back to her house to ensure that her identity as Ashley would not be compromised. Now that the case was done, she was relieved that she could dye her hair back to normal.
"No," she said. "Too much maintenance. And besides, I think I look weird. I'm changing it back first thing tomorrow."
He laughed at her comment. They were in Ingrid's room, following the long school day. Eric went through a difficult AP Biotechnology exam. For him to have said a test was difficult meant it was out of this world.
"You look beautiful," he said, caressing her arm, sending shivers down her spine. "You always are."
"You are impossibly cheesy," she said, lightly smacking his arm. "But I guess I like it."
"Miss Third, I truly believe you are a special being," he said. "I don't recall ever being like this to anyone. Only you."
Ingrid sat up. "Hmm, I wonder why," she said, playfully, and kissed him on the lips. He kissed back, deepening it, and gently running his fingertips up and down her back, then to her neck, and to her face. He pulled back, looking at her in the eyes, and said, "I don't know why and how, Ingrid, but I really do love you."
"That's an interesting statement," she said, looking away briefly, then placing her hands on his shoulders. She honestly wasn't sure what to make of it.
"I'm sorry. That probably didn't come out the way I wanted it to. But I'll…explain to you somehow. Soon. When I find the right words to say. I just… I can't express it," he admitted. "I'm not sure how, but I know I've been a bad person in the past. You're making me want to change that."
"Everyone deserves to have a second chance," she said. "I think I'd like to be your second chance."
He smiled. "That was such a movie line. I'm rubbing off on you, aren't I?"
"Ugh, shut up," she said, and he kissed her again. They stayed quiet for a while, with "Now. This… past. I know I've had a preview of it before and that you changed, but what happened in France? What exactly made you… regress?"
The look in his eyes darkened significantly, and she felt his touch turn cold. He took a long breath before saying anything.
"I don't know if I should talk about it. I don't know if I want to."
She shook her head. "Why not?"
"Because…" he said. "I'm ashamed. Okay? Let's just leave it at that."
"No. Let's not," she said, her green eyes glinting.
He stood up, unwilling to lose. "Yes, we will." He brushed his coat, and headed for the door. "Good-bye, Miss Third. I need to go now," he said, and made his way downstairs.
Ingrid shot up, and looked at his retreating back. She had half a mind to call him back, but she didn't think he would agree to speak. She slammed her door shut, and called Karen. Maybe she would know what to do.
She was over in ten minutes. She dropped a date with Joseph, since she hadn't seen Ingrid for far longer. Joseph wasn't happy, but he understood that the girls needed some time together. Karen suddenly had the idea of bringing them both to her family's day spa, which was half an hour's ride away. Ingrid readily agreed, and went downstairs when she caught sight of Karen's white Mercedes-Benz pull up in front of her house. The car was driven by Carlo, the Tehamas' oldest and friendliest driver, who had opened the door for Ingrid. Along the ride, Ingrid received another strange message from the same anonymous number that warned her about Eric.
Third, Im telling u. End things w/ Orben. For ur own good. – anon.
She clicked her phone close, and shoved it into her pocket. They soon arrived at the spa, and changed into fluffy, white robes.
"Anything happen between you and Eric?" Karen asked, as they settled into the large, mauve-coloured seats for the hour-long foot spa. "Seems he left your house in a rush. According to Playground."
"Yeah. I like him, I really do. It's just that I don't get him sometimes. He can be pretty unpredictable," she said.
"How so? P.S. You've never really introduced us to the guy."
"Right… Soon, I promise." she said. "Well, he can be pretty spontaneous. Like he'd randomly show up and pick me up, then bring me to these great places that I never knew existed in this area. It's like he knows things better than I do. Also, he can be unexpectedly sweet, though at times he can be a bit… suggestive."
"Careful… has he tried anything on you? Something you didn't like?"
"No, I think he's been pretty considerate about what I like and don't like. Except, earlier. He flipped out on me when I asked about his past in Europe."
"Hmm, that's real strange. Did he say why?"
Ingrid tugged at a loose lock of her hair. "Well, he said he was ashamed of it, and to leave it at that. While I'm okay to give him time, I don't think I can just leave whatever that is alone."
Karen nodded. "I think you're pretty all right. It's just that he's a little too mysterious for me. I don't know what to say. Does anyone else know anything about him? Like do you know any friends who are close to him? Because it seems like your relationship's been pretty confined to the two of you. I'm not sure I like how he's always taking you out and all but never introduces you to friends or anything."
"Hmmm," said Ingrid. Karen was right. It had been quite a whirlwind of a relationship, and come to think of it, she didn't really know any close friends of his, save for his band mates. She'd met his parents a few times, but most of the time, they were busy with their biology and philanthropic work. "Well, I do know his band mates and all. But that's about it. He's pretty self-kept. Aside from his New York friends, who I never got to meet. Of course, I won't forget what he did for me during Valentine's Day. And when he took me sailing."
"Yeah, he's definitely got his good points. But hey, people's flaws come out eventually. He's just a little too mysterious for me," repeated Karen. "I'm personally going to do another background check on him."
"Another?!" exclaimed Ingrid, eyes wide.
"Well, consider that my way of showing how I care," said Karen. "Sorry, I. I wanted to learn more about him."
"No, it's fine. Thanks for looking out for me," said Ingrid. "So what did you find out?"
"Not much. Probably stuff you already know. He was born in Manhattan, moved down here when he was nine, then went to a boarding school at eleven, came to X when he was twelve, then the next year, he went to France for boarding school. And this year, he's back. He's got great grades, far as I remember, he's got a 3.89 out of 4, cumulatively. But I saw he did some serious detention time in France though, but he did it through community service for six months. Not sure what for, though. Sorry, I, I don't have photographic memory," said Karen, cracking a smile at her friend.
Ingrid laughed. "It's fine. I didn't know about the grades, though. I knew he was smart, but I had no idea how smart. He never talks about it, actually. I do wonder about his detention time though."
"Maybe he's like Joe. He needs time to open up more. Though, slightly shady. No offense."
"None taken. I guess," said Ingrid. "Well, your turn. How are things with him?"
"We're pretty good," she said. "It's just that I hope he'll take me seriously. 'Cause he's a chill guy. He's been my best friend for the longest time, so I know how indecisive he is about most things."
Ingrid chuckled. "Hard to blame him when he's been handed a golden spoon from the day he was born."
"True," said Karen. "He actually wasn't too happy about me breaking our date, but I promised I'd make it up to him tomorrow. Besides, I rarely ever get to see you. I'm glad you're okay, though."
"Thanks," said Ingrid. "I really appreciate this, you know."
"Anytime!"
When the girls had finished their spa date, Karen brought Ingrid home, and they hugged each other before parting. Ingrid came up to her room, which was lit up with a dim light, which she saw through the bottom of the door. She frowned, wondering if Ariella or her dad had left the light on, and if it had burned out while she was away. She opened the door slightly, and surprisingly, it was lit up not by a light, but by some candles, and a new nightlight by her bed.
Inside was Eric, with a single white Ecuadorian rose in his hand. "Hey," he said, his voice quiet and low, as he rose up from the chair at her desk. "Ingrid. I'm sorry I got angry. I just didn't want to talk about it yet. I have my reasons. And I guess I want to share them with you. But only if you let me."
Ingrid was still in the doorway, slightly shocked at the display before her. She didn't know what to say.
"Please, say something," he said, shifting his weight. "Is it too much?"
"No… no. Not at all," she said, stepping inside, and touching his arm. They slid into an embrace, and they stayed like that for a while. "Okay," said Ingrid, finally. "I want to know you. The real you. No lies, no secrets. Just you."
He nodded. "I promise."
the city of dreams.
"Mother of-" muttered Wayne, as he stepped off his train at Grand Central Station. His phone fell down on the platform, and a lady's pointy stiletto heel had managed to make a crack on the upper left side of his phone. She had passed too quickly for him to see her face. He had half a mind to toss it, since he wasn't particularly attached to the phone, but he realized that it probably wasn't the best idea right now, since, miraculously, it still functioned.
Ewan said he would pick him up in half an hour, and he decided to go around New York's landmark terminal, to find some café or patisserie to eat at while waiting. He passed families and individuals all walking with a speed that was new to him. He settled for a small café, and ordered a ham and cheese sandwich with some hot chocolate. He opened a random magazine as well, though it didn't suit to his interests.
As he was reading about the latest celebrity gossip, his phone buzzed, and Ewan sent a text saying he was near. He made his way out and found Ewan standing beside a black BMW. He wore an expensive-looking dark green dress shirt with khaki pants, and held an iPhone in his right hand. He smiled when he saw his brother, greeting him with a brief hug.
"Welcome to my turf," said Ewan. "I'm really glad you decided to go and spend Spring Break here with me. Come on, mom would be delighted to meet you."
They drove past buildings Wayne had seen mostly through movies and magazines. It was neat seeing everything firsthand, and though Ewan was saying some things, he found himself fascinated by the city. They stopped in front of the Plaza, one of New York's iconic Renaissance-style buildings. The white-gloved doorman greeted Ewan warmly, and did a double-take when he saw Wayne.
"Hey Willy, this is my long-lost brother Wayne. He'll be here for the week!"
"I must say, I don't doubt your relation..." he said, scratching his temple.
Both laughed. "Well, it's good to meet you, Willy," said Wayne.
They entered the grand lobby, which was lit by several large chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. The lobby was cool and decorated in an old-fashioned style, but it was nevertheless beautiful.
Ewan led them to an elevator, and he pressed the 11 button.
"I can't believe you call this place home," said Wayne.
"It pays to have a dad who's involved in international affairs," he laughed. "This isn't the best apartment, but it's home."
What didn't pass as the "best apartment" surely went beyond Wayne's expectations. He was used to living a relatively simple life. He always had a roof over his head and three meals a day. That was pretty much enough for him. This was a change in scenery. The three-bedroom apartment was a modern-meets-classic design, with a white, beige, and gold color motif. The foyer was rounded, with a domed ceiling, and decorated with Doric columns. The foyer had a small coat room, some white and gold sculptures, a working grandfather clock, several drab upholstered Louis XVI-style chairs, and a glass table with a crystal vase, holding freshly-cut white flowers.
The living room was covered with a dark wood floor, surrounded by marble tiles, and featured large windows. The room had a small chandelier, a large, flat-screen TV in front of a Renaissance-style white couch, and was paired with an elegantly crafted coffee table. There were several other table sets in the room, large wooden cabinets displaying fine china and travel memoirs, and tasteful decorations. There was a large mirror that hung above a shorter cabinet that probably held their linen. The living room flowed into the dining room, which was equally well-lit, and held places enough for twelve. There was a painting of some place in the United Kingdom that hung in the dining room, which he only knew because of the flag present in the painting. A maid was dusting off some of the cabinets in the room.
"You'll be staying here, in the guest room," said Ewan, as he gestured towards the right. The door was already open, and before he could move towards it, a maid exited the room carrying some linens. "Looks like they're done cleaning. I'll help you get settled in."
Ewan helped Wayne with his bags. He didn't bring much, so it was no problem to bring them in. The room was spacious, and like the rest of the house, well-lit. The window featured a beautiful view of Central Park. The room was simple, but he could tell that the furnishings were expensive. The room was carpeted in a pale gold, and had a round table with two Louis XVI oval-style chairs on the side. The double bed had a large wooden trunk in front of it, and a small, flat-screen TV hung on the wall.
"You've got quite a place here," said Wayne.
"I love every inch of it. Though, you should see some of my friends' places. They're much larger and more expensively decorated. But like I said, home is home," he said, seating himself on one of the chairs in the room. "You're allowed to go out anytime. The maids will be here until eight only, so if you're planning to stay out, let me know. But I'll be taking you around town to meet my friends and all. It'll be fun!"
Wayne smiled. "Oh, I could use all the fun I can get. So, what's the plan, my man?"
"Are you serious-I use that expression a lot and Lance, my best friend, hates me for it! He always tells me to go for "dude" or "bro", cause it sounds weird to him!"
"I guess that completely confirms we're 100 percent related, then," Wayne said, grinning. "Oh, by the way, my Motorola's dead. Ish. I dropped it and some lady's heels killed the upper left corner. Where can I get a new one?"
"Well, you can have my old one. I was planning to give it to Rhea, the maid, for her daughter's birthday, but I think you need it more," he said.
"You sure?"
"No one'll miss it. Hold on, let me get it."
As Ewan left, Wayne looked out the window, observing the scene below him. He saw a couple jogging, a family feeding ducks by the pond, and an old man sitting by a tree, reading a newspaper. The roads were jammed with cars, but they were constantly moving. He saw his beat-up phone blinking, and checked the messages.
One from Les, another from Joseph. He opened the one from Les first, then the one from Joseph.
Have fun in NYC! See me soon babe. xo, L.
Thanks for the help in the bust! 'twas a success. So happy you're back. Also, in other news, K blew me off (date-wise, ayt). Think she's seeing I for some girl stuff. Oh well. Enjoy NYC!
He smiled. It was only last week that he'd agreed to come back to do Safety Patrol work. It really was something that he couldn't stay away from. Things were finally falling into place.
