Badboy, His Secrets and My Heart

4: The Pizza Guy

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Ethan

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"No mum. No!"

"Ethan Ryder Torres. You listen to me when I say something and work accordingly. Call her," my mom glared at me pointedly.

"Yes, Ethan. You do that," my little sister Emmy commented as she swung her legs back and forth, seated on the kitchen counter.

I rolled my eyes at her frowning. So all of a sudden, everyone in the house had the audacity you order me. The amount of respect and prominence I received in this household was practically non-existent.

Emmy stuck her tongue out at me and gave me an evil grin. See what I meant?

"Fine, I'll think about it," I mumbled before heading to my room. How can I just invite a girl I just met to a dinner at my home? I mean it is with my mom. And my sister. A family dinner. Just because she was her best friend's daughter.

Whatever.

I quickly texted Scar to wait for me at the road bend, and not to come closer. My mom will take things into her hand and things will go souther. Knowing Scar, she would obviously feel obligated to say yes. Not that I did not trust her.

Yeah, right. You way more than trust her Ethan.

I probably had to take baby steps. She was being super nice to me. It has already been three days and I have not yet found out what attracted me to her so much. As if she was the last drop of whiskey in an alcoholic's hand or the final gust of oxygen for man or-

Jeez, Ethan since when have you been this corny. You met her like seventy-two hours ago. Hold your damn horses.

Ugh, f**k off i***t.

As much as my inner self is right, I would hate to agree with him. Don't be mad at me. Sometimes I love the ideas my f*****g subconscious gives me. But there the other times...

I could not believe I was indeed talking to myself. But then again a lot of things about me question my sanity.

Replying to a couple of texts from Kai, I promised him that I would meet up with him this weekend. Dumping my sketchbook into my bag, I hoisted it on my shoulder before walking downstairs.

Emmy sat on the recliner, frowning. Why is she upset? "What's up?" I asked her moving close to her.

"Mama, made me wear this hideous dress," she pouted pointing down to the baby blue cotton frock she was sporting. Oh.

A chuckle escaped me just as she huffed and turned the other way. "Don't laugh at me. You know I hate dresses," she mumbled, her agitation and evident. I put my arm around her drawing her close, "Yes I do know. But why did she make you wear it if you hate it so much?"

"I don't know. She said that I had to," she pouted even more. "Okay, okay. It will be a short while, right? You just have to go and meet Aunt and come home. It'll be fine. Besides, you look pretty. I mean damn cuteee. Like all the good genes from our family came to you. It is unfair," I pout playfully, knowing that she would turn to me now.

"Don't worry, Ethie. You are cute too. But what about jeans?" She turned to me and blinked twice.

"That means good looks, Emmy," I tried to explain. How can I explain biology to a kid, when I myself am shitty at it? Ugh.

She shrugged before nuzzling closer to me. "Careful now, you will wrinkle your dress and mom will murder me," I warned her. "Come on, Aunt Carol is not going to be checking creases in my dress," she assured me. "Trust me, she will. She has eagle eyes."

"Ethie.." She called me as I checked my phone again. No texts from Scarlett. Humming back to Emmy, I placed my phone on the coffee table. "I don't want to go to Aunt's."

I told mom that Emmy would not want to. Why is she very important all of a sudden? She loved his sister aka her friend, fair enough. But what has that got to do with us?

"You have to, Emmy. You know mom," I sighed. "She will ask about dada. What should I say? She will keep talking about him," she spoke quietly. Too quiet. She was about to cry.

"Emmy," I began. She got up soon, knowing where the conversation would head. Clasping her wrist, I pulled her so as for her standing in front of me.

Traitor tears escaped her eyes. "I am sorry. I should not have-"

"Sh, shh. Emmy, calm down. Breathe. It is fine. Look at me," I uttered softly and she raised her head slowly. Her platinum blonde hair in soft curls framing her pale almond-shaped face. Bright emerald eyes looking into mine intensely. Both of us got our eyes from the man we call our father. Mine a tidbit more hazel while hers was vivid green.

"It's okay. We will be fine. You will be fine. Aunt Carol will not ask. If she asks about dad, after all, tell me. I'll break her nose. Okay?" I tried my best. "Promise?" "Yep, promise."

She put her hands around me hugging. I embraced her little form.

My phone vibrated on the glass table. She pulled away from me as I reached and thumbed her tears away.

"Emmy!" Hearing my mom's voice descending the stairs, she poised herself wiping the remnants of her salty tears using the back of her hand.

But she did not realize that she was still too young to realize her mother's instincts and deductions. My mom's eyes softened at her as she gave her a sad smile which was reciprocated. Cerulean blue eyes of my mom reached mine as she gave me a small nod before tying Emmy's bow and giving her a peck on her forehead.

Pocketing my phone, I nodded at my mom and Emmy, totally off my vibe before walking out of the door, towards the silver car waiting for me down the street.

"What's wrong?" Scarlett asked me as soon as I got in. Even before I closed the freaking door. I shrugged in response.

She rolled her blue-green eyes at me, before stepping on the gas. "Are you sure? You don't seem okay?" She tried again, softly this time. Her short ombré hair was let loose in the attempt of drying off as it seemed slightly wet. A form-fitting white mock turtleneck crop top paired with distressed mom jeans and a couple of black high tops. Christ, she was killing me!

You are such a pathetic drama queen, Ethan.

"I'm fine," I snapped. Why is she giving me the sympathetic look? Just a I-don't-give-a-f**k attitude would suffice.

She stiffened. Her hands gripped the steering tighter. Clearing her throat, she avoided my gaze. "I assume that me picking you up at the end of the street is a reason for your so-called fineness?"

A sharp inhale of breath showed her my reaction. Her grip on the wheel loosened as she sighed. "I'm sorry. You do not have to answer me," she told quietly.

Shit! Now you ruined everything! Baby steps, Ethan. Baby steps.

"Um. My mom and Emmy are going to visit my aunt," I found myself telling her. She looked at me waiting to continue but I resumed my sightseeing out of the windscreen. I didn't want to talk about this s**t stuff. I did not want to come out harsh but that was where I drew the limit to friends.

But is she just a friend?

Damn. Inner Ethan. You are the one who told me to hold my damn horses.

I saw Scarlett contemplate on prompting me further and deciding against it. She gave me a short nod and turned to the front.

"Do you mind if I stay at your place until they come back? After my basketball practice of course. They will be pretty late," I asked trying to be polite at the lest. "Sure," she nodded, her lips curling at the edges.

**

"Get your lazy asses on time there, tomorrow. I do not want any complaints regarding the tardiness of the basketball team. Okay?"

"Yes, coach."

"Now change quickly and get going. I swear if I see you roll your eyes one more time, Hawthorn, I will make you run laps around the court in your birthday suit," Coach scowled at Daniel as the rest of us sniggered. He blushed a deep tomato red at the mention of his name.

"Quick quick, guys. Hurry up," Coach dismissed us as we dragged our sweaty bodies towards the showers.

"Hey man, you up for a bowling night?" The so-called b***h boy Daniel Hawthorn stopped me. "Bowling night?" I asked him c*****g my right eyebrow promptly.

"This Friday." Uh oh.

Kai was coming over Saturday morning so that should be fine. As much as I did not want to be buddy-buddy with this guy, I had no choice. My mom had seriously demanded me to blend in and do s**t like a normal teenage guy.

"Yeah, sure," I shrugged. "Deal, we will pick you up," he nodded to Logan, who was pointedly giving me the cold shoulder. Okay, can someone please tell me who stuck a crusty stick up his stuff a*s?

After my shower, running a hand through my wet hair, I hailed myself a ride in one of the rental cycles.

The cool wind on my face was soothing and damn nostalgic. The trees and the suburbs a blur in the corner of my eyes. Vivid hues splashed on the evening sky created undeniable realities and brought me back to earth.

Stalling to grab a look at my way to Scarlett's house, I continued. Wondering where the hell her car was, I parked the bicycle. Not before I reached for my phone, her car pulled over into the driveway.

"Sorry, you have been here for a long time huh?" She asked getting out of her car and making her way to me, smiling. "Nah, just came," I shrugged.

Pulling the keys from her pocket, she fumbled with them opening the door. Damn, Ms. Clumsy!

"I am so sorry, Ethan. Al insisted that I should go shopping with her. It got late," she mumbled. Oh. "That's okay."

She was one of those girls. Girls who loved shopping, who lived a pretentious life and wanted to be plastic so badly. Crap, for once I thought I had met someone different.

Ethan bud, is it too hot in your glasshouse or what?

Screw you, dumbass.

Ooh la la, my man is a fluffing unicorn!!!

Arghh!

**

"Ugh, I am bored," I groaned. We had done our homework and were watching random sitcoms. "Let's get some pizza," Scarlett stated getting up. "Do you get pizza when you are bored or what?"

She rolled her eyes, "No. I get pizza when I am hungry."

"Pepperoni?" She asked me, humming a yes to the person on the call. I nodded at her. Placing her phone down, she looked at me and shrugged. Now what?

"Do you want to watch something? Movie?"

"Sure, you choose," I offered. I sucked at choosing anything good.

Well, you do choose good underwears.

Can't I just switch off my subconscious mind voice for a while, please?

"What about 'When Harry Met Sally' or 'Clueless?'"

"When Harry Met Sally." Romcoms do not hurt.

"We will put it on when pizza is ready. Until then, what about you show me around?" I suggested. She looked at me as I was an alien. "You know, maybe a tour of your house?" Her eyes loosened up with a perfectly shaped 'O' on her pink lips. Getting up, she dusted her cotton shorts and held out her hand, "Come on."

After a tour through her kitchen, dining room, a couple of guest rooms, her sister's room (whom she mentioned was in college and an actual tv room. Why watch tv out when you have your personal theatre complete with a popcorn maker? She had an indoor pool too. (Yeah, an indoor pool. The one with water.) She avoided a couple of doors like plague and did not dare ask her.

"And this is my room." Finally.

You do realize that you sound like a very creepy r****t or serial killer, don't you?

My inner dumbass definitely needed a punch in the gut.

A king-sized bed with cream coloured beddings, sat in the centre with a couple of bedside tables on each side. There were two doors on the right. Bathroom and closet if I was not mistaken. A walk-in closet, specifically. The left side of the wall was completely shelved with books. Fiction and non-fiction alike. But fiction topped it. The room was themed white and cream with a tinge of dark navy blue. A neat cream couch was placed in front of the bed, on the fluffy navy carpet. An ivory study table was pushed to a corner, with an iMac sitting regally on top. Two dark blue recliners were spaced carefully near the unlit modern fireplace.

Beyond all of these, there was something that captured my eyes.

A collage wall right above her headboard. Moving closer I took the sight in. "This is so cool," I breathed.

"I know right. This wall holds a lot of memories," she sniffled. Oops, personal territory. Back off, Torres. Back off now. "Where are your parents, by the way? They work late?" I asked plopping across her neatly made bed.

She looked at me alarmed. What the f**k happened? Maybe she was upset that I ruined her perfect bed? Probably. Does not mean I was going to get up. Ta da.

"Your mother did not tell you?" Her soft voice alerted me. "Yeah, she told me that she was best friends with your mom," I shrugged, now intrigued. "She did not tell anything else?" she asked again. "Should she have told me something?" I asked her in reply.

She shook her head. "They are not here anymore."

"Here as in, this house?

"No. Here as in alive. My mom passed away when I was ten. Dad has been in the hospital ever since. He is cancerous," she told me, giving a half-smile that did not reach her eyes. Oh crap!

"I am sorry, Scarlett. I did not know," I got off the bed, moving towards her. "No, it is fine. It was long ago. I try to visit my dad daily but it is mostly once in two days."

"So you stay here alone?" Her sister was in college, right?

"Logan stays over sometimes. But mostly, yes. I will be fine."

So that was what their friendship is about. I truly was lost for words. What do I say to her? So I decided to tread on thin ice.

"Do you miss them?"

She looked up at me. Her blue-green eyes blinked rapidly in order to stop them from tearing up. "Yes," she breathed out after what it seemed like an eternity. Not giving a second thought, I crossed the room and put my arms around her, engulfing her in a hug. She melted right in my arms and it felt so right.

Rubbing circles in the small of her back, I appreciated her warm breath at my neck. "My father or rather my sperm donor is good as gone too," I informed her. I did not know whether it would comfort her or not but, it felt right to say at that moment.

She pulled back an inch to look right into my eyes. Her blue-green looked bluer than greener. Maybe the slight glaze of saltiness on her retinas was playing illusions in my mind.

"What happened?" she asked me, her voice slightly sounded parched. "My parents split. He was a first class cheater. Did the nasty with one of my mom's clients," I shrugged. He had never been the perfect dad to look up to. Who am I kidding? He did not even deserve the title 'dad' or 'father.'

Her eyes softened further as she slid her hands around my waist and held me tighter.

"That was where my mom and Emmy went today. To meet his sister. She was my mother's friend. My parents met through her. She is a snobby, judgemental bi-"

"Shhh.." she shushed me. "Don't people who you do not like. You are just wasting your time and energy over people who do not deserve it. Don't judge people also. You never know their side of the story," she told, her voice slightly muffled by my button up's material.

I do not say anything back, just resume my soothing circles.

All of a sudden there is this fire. Fire to comfort. The fire of desire. Her blue-green eyes reach my hazel ones as if on cue of the same thoughts. Her hand comes to rest on my shoulders slowly, as one of mine stayed at her waist while the other tucks a single strand of escaped hair behind her ear.

Christ, her eyes were so blue.

Both of us were leaning in. Less than one-eighth of an inch was between our lips. There we go...

Tringggggggggg... Tringgggg..

Both of us spring apart as if electrocuted. Damn hell, this is awkward.

"That must be the pizza delivery guy. I will go get them," she mumbled before rushing downstairs. I was left staring at the cream walls thinking something entirely different.

Dear pizza delivery guy, screw you!