AN: It's been a long time since I've updated some of these stories, and I'm trying to work toward finishing them so they don't hang out incomplete forever. I apologize for the long delay. Please let me know what you think. I do have some of the next chapter written, and getting good feedback is great motivation. I don't plan for this to be a super long story, probably just one or two more chapters.
To recap: Marcus has been at the same school as Carlos and Dom for a while, and he's become good friends with Carlos but doesn't know Dom quite as well yet. When Marcus asks Carlos to keep him company at a high society party his parents are making him go to, Carlos offers up Dom as a substitute. Even from the start of their friendship, Marcus and Dom find themselves in a bit of trouble in this chapter, and they find help from an unlikely source.
Dom had never tasted so many delicious hors d'oeuvres in his entire life. Instead of a formal meal, a table covered with a thick red table cloth had been set up on one side of the ballroom and was kept stocked with serving platters overloaded with appetizers, allowing the many finely-dressed guests to come and go as they pleased, grazing on the plentiful offerings.
A bit more greedy than his mother would've liked, Dom loaded his small appetizer plate, starting at the dessert end of the table and conveniently running out of room by the time he reached the fruits and vegetables on the opposite end. Marcus started to do just the opposite, but upon eyeing the cache of truffles, cookies and cake Dom had collected, Marcus relented with a sigh. He started with the desserts as well, although he didn't load his plate to overflowing. His manners didn't quite allow for that.
"Now what?" Dom asked, waiting for Marcus to make the next move. There were many round tables set up on the edges of the dance floor, but only adults were seated at them, and there seemed to be some sort of seating chart. While he waited, Dom popped a truffle in his mouth and enjoyed it tremendously, chewing with mouth closed as ordered by his mother.
"I don't see my dad," Marcus opined, casting his gaze around the room for a familiar face. "Usually they set up tables for the kids outside, in the gardens."
"Gardens?" Dom inquired. "As in, multiple gardens?" Dom's mother often made her boys go out an weed her small vegetable garden as part of their chores, and neither of them appreciated it very much.
"Acres of gardens," Marcus replied, beginning a slow amble toward the north end of the ballroom. The two of them followed a wide granite corridor for a short distance before they came to a broad stone staircase that spiraled down to the ground floor at the back of the magnificent building. Another archway at the bottom of the steps contained two tall oak doors and Marcus pushed one open, leading the way out in the 'gardens.'
Dom's jaw dropped open. This wasn't a garden, it was a paradise. It was as if a rainbow had rained down all its colors on this spot, and they took root and grew in the form of flowers. All kinds of flowers. Some huge and fragrant, some small and creeping, but all beautiful. The landscaping was done in stone instead of the wood commonly seen in the city. Deep red retaining walls surrounded a circular area far bigger than the back yard where Dom played ball with Carlos. At the center of the circular flat-stone pavillion was a white gazebo with a marble bench just big enough for two surrounded by different play areas. A four-square lined in gold, hop scotch, a half-court hoop and a shuffle-board area.
From this vantage point, Dom couldn't see just how deep the gardens went, but he could hear the gurgling of fountains in more than one direction, and there were many shiny flagstone paths branching off.
There were other children out here. Many of them had already eaten their fill, leaving their plates sitting on the small table set up for their use, waiting for the cleaning staff to take care of. Dom almost winced at the sight. In his house, leaving your plate on table for someone else to clean up wasn't taken lightly. Eva Santiago's boys cleaned up after themselves, or else.
The 'or else' wasn't very pleasant.
Dom took a seat on the retaining wall next to Marcus, and the two boys dug into their bounty, settling into a comfortable silence. It really hadn't been so bad hanging out with Marcus so far. The two of them didn't talk a lot, but not in a bad way. Dom had a feeling Marcus worked up to saying things slowly. He seemed to chew thoughts over for a long time before voicing them, unlike most kids their age.
Dom did notice Marcus ate like a normal boy. He cleaned his plate quick.
"This is good," Dom said through fat cheeks. He pointed at a specific entry: a battered and fried meat he wasn't familiar with. He'd broken one of his mother's rules by speaking with his mouth full, but he figured it was ok since there weren't any adults around.
"It's squid," Marcus informed him, like the fact might give Dom pause.
"It's delicious," Dom concluded, stuffing a small cheese puff in his mouth to supplement the flavor.
Using his napkin to wipe his mouth so he wouldn't dirty the sleeve of Marcus's suit, Dom finally took a moment to breathe and take in the garden. Inhaling deep through his nose, he scented lavendar, lilac and roses. And, citrus? Where there orange trees around here somewhere? Did those even grow naturally in Jacinto?
It wasn't just the two of them seated in the garden. There were other kids, but Dom had carefully avoided noticing them. Now he looked around and found some of the young girls were playing four-square or hop-scotch in their party dresses, but all the boys were playing basketball on the paved court. Most of the boys had removed their blazers to play, but it still wasn't a rough game like the ones Dom saw on the playground. These boys shot baskets like they had personal coaches drilling them every day, and probably some of them did, but they played like they didn't want to scuff their loafers.
Dom wondered how well they'd shoot after getting an elbow in the face.
One kid actually returned his gaze. A girl. She was blond, and about Carlos's height, but she appeared younger than Carlos and Marcus, more Dom's age. She looked sweet and beautiful and she was holding the ball for four-square, seeming to have forgotten she was in the middle of playing. When Dom caught her looking at the two of them, she smiled. It was sheepish, but pretty. Her teeth were very white and her hair was tucked into a neat bun at the base of her neck, a staple of the Jacinto Academy for Girls. The school was very posh, and it was the only school in the world solely for young women with a junior officer program.
"Who's that?" Dom asked.
Marcus shrugged glumly. "Anya Stroud," he said. "Her mom used to serve with my dad." Then, under his breath, Marcus added urgently, like he'd been previously unable to find someone to confide in, "She's always looking at me. I don't know what to do about it."
Dom raised a skeptical eyebrow. What was with Marcus? He was eleven. Dom was only nine and he knew exactly what he'd do about a pretty girl who looked at him all the time. There was a reason his teachers had given him the nickname 'Baby Casanova.' He liked girls; he liked making them smile, and he liked being nice to them—unlike many boys his age. On Valentine's day, he always got the largest stack of Valentines in his home room in spite of his baby fat.
"You ever tried kissing her?" Dom asked.
"What, like on the cheek?"
Dom tilted his head to one side. Was Marcus dense or something? "Do you kiss your mom on the cheek?"
"I don't kiss my mom."
Dom rephrased. "If your mom asked you to, would you?"
Marcus shrugged. "I guess," he said reluctantly. "On the cheek."
"Do you usually kiss pretty girls the same way you'd kiss your mom?" Dom asked. If Carlos was there, he'd probably get slapped for that comment. It was just a bit snarky.
Marcus's look turned a bit disgusted. "I don't kiss anyone," he said, almost squirming in his seat. Like many young boys, Marcus didn't find girls very enticing. Carlos was just coming out of that phase and starting to take an interest in the opposite sex.
"I'd kiss her," Dom concluded with a shrug, as if Marcus had just said he didn't like chocolate. That was fine. More for Dom to enjoy. "Is she nice?"
"She's nice," Marcus grumbled. "I just wouldn't kiss her. That's all." He was almost defensive.
Just then, the basketball the boys were using for their game came dribbling over, stopping next to Dom's freshly polished dress shoes. Instead of running after the ball, the nearest boy put his hands on his hips and made a disgusted noise.
"Hey, fatty. Take your time, why don't you?" he said, irritated.
Marcus set his plate aside. He was virtually done anyway.
"You going to start something?" Dom asked.
"Probably."
"You should keep in mind I'm not like Carlos. I'm a lover, not a fighter, but if you get in deep I'll sneak up behind the guy pounding on ya and fish-hook 'em."
"Noted," Marcus said with a little sigh. He bent to pick up the basketball, setting it on his hip, and started marching over to confront the aristocratic lad with the sandy-blond hair and the attitude problem.
"Fenix," the kid said in cold greeting, almost making a mockery of Marcus's last name. The boys behind him sniggered as if no one could hear them.
"Colton." Marcus was equally cold. "I see the plastic surgeon finally straightened out your nose. It'd be a shame if I had to break it again."
The play area went very still. Suddenly Dom saw the garden for what it really was—a well-manicured jungle, complete with hungry predators. Why weren't there any adults out here to supervise? Or was that the point? Was it tradition for the offspring of the social elite to wage war and set a pecking order early on?
Dom did a quick count of five boys, not counting himself or Marcus. The girls didn't look like they had any interest in throwing in, except for Anya. She watched the proceedings intently, giving up her spot on the four-square to stand and watch, her thin arms folded over her flat chest.
Five-on-one odds weren't fair. Most of the boys were Marcus's age or younger—probably children much older than eleven stuck closer to their parents to socialize at such events— but it still wasn't fair, even if Marcus had a couple inches on all of them.
Then again, Carlos had said the boy could throw a hell of a punch. Dom wondered if his mother would ever let him visit Marcus again if he came back from this party all beat up.
"Why don't you go sit back down with your boyfriend?" Colton asked. "Who'd you bring? The maid's son?"
Suddenly Dom was on his feet, fists clenched at his sides. His dislike of getting hit be damned, Dom was going to punch that Colton kid in the face if Marcus didn't.
He didn't need to worry. Marcus squeezed the basketball between his hands and passed it to Colton from the chest, except he fired it hard, right at the kid's face. The ball hit Colton with a loud crack, and blood poured from his nose in a dark slick, foaming red around his nostrils.
Colton fell to the ground screaming, both hands over his face. Colton's four companions started to rush forward, and so did Dom, but Anya Stroud in her little white flowered party dress beat them all to it. She reached Marcus first and slapped him crisply across the face.
"That's for hitting my cousin!" she shouted, and then she whipped around on her heel, scowling at the four boys rushing forward. "This is family business! Butt out!" she ordered, her blue eyes flashing dangerously.
All four boys stopped running. Dom stopped running. Anya was taller than all of them except Marcus, and she was a little frightening when angry.
Marcus looked entirely taken aback, almost startled. One of his hands rose and his fingers felt his cheek, which had started to turn red with a small white handprint in the middle.
Turning to face Marcus once more, she put on a mean scowl, but it struck Dom as forced. Almost like she was putting on an act.
"You should be ashamed of yourself," she said, and the words were almost comical coming out of a thin, gangly girl. Comical because they were delivered with such ferocity, on par with Dom's mother. "You're two inches taller than him. You should've at least let him know you were going to hit him. An honorable man declares war, a coward strikes without provocation."
"War's long since been declared, and Colton knows it," Marcus growled, his eyes narrowing. "In battle, the only crime is to lose. He who wishes to fight must first count the cost."
So, this was what it was like when rich, overeducated kids argued. They quoted philosophy at each other. Where Dom came from, kids just screamed at each other until they either fought or one of them ran away.
Anya placed her hands on her hips and made a 'humph' sound. "Well in this case, I doubt the age old adage of 'boys will be boys' probably will cover two nose jobs in a year."
For a long moment the two stared each other down. Dom glanced back and forth, wondering just how this might play out. Did Marcus realize he'd just been saved from an ass kicking by a girl? Or had that part managed to escape him?
"So what was I supposed to do?" Marcus asked, belligerent.
"You're supposed to be the bigger man and walk away," Anya reminded him, steel in her eyes.
"Yeah, like her father did," one of Colton's friends said under his breath, just loud enough for them to hear.
"Shut up, Liam, or I'll let him hit you next," Anya snapped at the boy.
"I'm so scared," another boy said mockingly, and they all laughed at her.
"Leave her alone," Marcus snarled at them, but that was the wrong thing to say. It just gave them more ammunition.
"Why don't you make me? Is Anya your girrrrlfriend?" Liam asked, stalking forward and shoving Anya out of the way before getting right up in Marcus's face. "Ever since you grew out of your baby fat, you think you're tough shit, don't you? But I know you're the same chubby little coward you've always been." Liam shoved Marcus, forcing him to take a step back. "My dad always said the Fenix family thinks they're better than everyone else. Do you think you're better than me, Fenix?"
Liam shoved him again, and Marcus let him, his light blue eyes dull and staring at the distance. Dom wondered why Marcus didn't throw a punch and lay the kid out. From what Carlos had said, Marcus could punch pretty hard and the boy shoving him only came up to his nose.
Stepping forward, Dom got between the two boys before Liam could step forward and shove Marcus again. "Break it up, guys. Come on, Marcus. Let's go inside and find something to drink."
"Does socializing with the maid's son make you feel superior, Fenix? Like you're so much better than the rest of us because you go to school with regular kids? I bet he's the only friend you have, because even those kids can tell there's something wrong with you."
That was enough of that. Dom turned toward the older boy and slammed a knee into his crotch, dropping him to the ground.
Glancing over at Marcus sheepishly, Dom shot him a small smile. "Sorry," he said. Carlos had told him to behave himself. To not jeopardize their friendship with Marcus by doing something stupid.
Kneeing a kid in the nuts at a high society party seemed pretty stupid in hindsight.
"Don't be," Marcus said.
And with that, the other three boys ran to join the fight, and Dom found himself next to Marcus, both of them throwing punches. While his dad had taught him how to throw a punch, Dom was quite a bit younger than these boys, and if it hadn't been for Marcus, they would've overwhelmed him pretty quickly.
Dom felt a fist hit him in the floating ribs, doubling him over. Pushing away from the boy in front of him, Dom glanced up just in time to see a fist flying fast toward his face, but it never reached him, because Anya jumped on the back of the boy trying to hit him and landed a perfect chokehold. Her thin pale arm wrapped expertly around his throat and her other hand controlled his head so he couldn't rear back and hit her in the face.
While Anya dealt with one boy, dragging him down to the ground so she sat behind him and choking him until he yielded, screaming and crying and begging to be let go, Marcus straddled a second boy and pounded his face with both fists while the third boy ran off, presumably to tell an adult about the fight.
Looking back and forth between the two young socialites fighting on his side, Dom could only shake his head. Carlos was going to kill him—assuming his mother didn't kill him first.