Ugly Secrets, Pretty Lies

Eleven

~ Blake's POV ~

I stayed awake the entire night after dropping Crimson home. I just couldn't sleep anyway. I sat on my bed, hour after hour, staring into space. 

Crimson.

I'm usually a player. Usually, I say, because I haven't slept with any girl for nearly a week. I know that's not much, but to me, it feels like a long time. And then last night, I met Crimson. She was just standing there and leaning against the counter in the kitchen of Kelly's mansion, a hand on her chest. I was holding 2 drinks in my hand and I don't even remember why. Though I didn't drink much. 

She told me she went to Riverwood and I figure as much, or she wouldn't be at the party. But she's basically a stranger to me. I haven't ever met her in my life and I don't even know her real name. Just her middle name. Crimson. And she calls me Andy. And for some reason, she got me entranced. No girl had ever made me feel that way since the girl I loved broke my heart a few years earlier. And for some reason, I took her to the café that my Nana usually took me to when she was still here. 

I shook my head and looked up at the ceiling. And I still wasn't tired. I stood up and went to the bathroom. I rubbed my face with a cold and wet towel, rubbing my eyes especially. 

"Blake!" my mother called. "Are you up yet?"

"Yes, Mom!" I called back. 

A few minutes later, I walked out of my room, teeth brushed and dressed in a black v-neck and dark grey jeans. I headed down to the kitchen, the ridiculously large kitchen that that has a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling for the most ridiculous reason. Sure, my family is rich, but do my parents have to put chandeliers in every room? Hell, even my room has one.

The maid placed a plate of food in front of me as I slid into my seat. Mom and Dad were sitting across from me, and my younger sister, Rose-Luna, sat in the seat next to me, eating a plate of eggs and oblivious to the tension in the air. 

My parents and I have never gone long with each other; my dad wants me to take over his business after my education, but I don't want to. Even though I'll get to handle it with one of my best friends, Justin, I still don't want to. His family and mine shared the business, calling it the Anderson and Ashford Inc. It's not what I want to do in life, so why should I? Dad can't expect me to do everything he wants. 

"Have you thought about it, Blake?" Dad asked.

 I grumbled a yes. 

"And?"

"And no. I don't want to take over the business. I don't care."

"Now listen here, Blake. It doesn't matter what you want—"

"Yes, it does matter what I want! My future isn't in your hands, you don't get to decide what I do or don't do and what I don't want to do is take over the damn business!"

Before either of my parents could say a word, I got up from my seat quickly, knocking the chair over, and stormed out of the kitchen. My backpack was where I had left it yesterday after school, on the floor in the front room. I grabbed it and flung open the front door, stepping out, and making sure they could hear the loud slam of the door. My temper was short lately. Very short.

I unlocked my Mercedes and climbed into the driver seat, starting the engine. I drove in a mad flurry, being careful not to go over the speed limit and arrived at the school in record time. Probably my fastest yet, but I didn't care. I parked, got out, locked the doors and pocketed the keys, then headed toward the school's basketball court where I usually go every morning. 

"Hey, man!" a familiar voice called out. Liam. Another best friend. One of my two closest friends. 

I plastered a smile on my face and walked toward him and Justin, the latter shooting a ball with a look of total concentration. 

"Hey yourself," I greeted back, bumping fists with Liam. "Justin here had been making how many nets in a row since he started?"

Liam replied, "This one would be his fourth"

I whistled. "Only four? Consider me impressed."

The ball bounced back down onto the pavement and Justin caught it.

"Consider me thankful," he said dryly. 

Liam and I both laughed. I quickly grew sober. "No, seriously, Justin. What's up today? Usually you'll have made twenty something shots by the time I got here."

 "Nothing." 

But he was too quick to reply and I knew something was up.

 Liam looked at him closely. "You look different," he remarked.

 "Why, thank you," Justin muttered. 

I snorted. 

Justin, Liam, and I have been best friends since elementary. Justin and I first met, with him bumping into me in first grade and making me drop my lunch. We pretty much got in a fight with me being impressed at his skills and announcing him my friend. We both met Liam in third grade. He was the shy new kid, but now he's matured. Sort of.

We all know each other better than anyone else (okay, maybe not our parents), and we could always tel, when one of us is feeling off. 

"You sure nothing's wrong?" Liam asked.

"Course," Justin said, nodding. He dribbled the ball, then toss it to Liam who caught it one handed. 

"I'm starving," Liam announced. 

"Lets' go to that diner near here," I suggested. Justin agreed and so did Liam. As long as the place had food, the latter was fine with anyplace.