Chances

Chapter 9 - Lies make Liars

After I dropped every one off at their house, I was finally taking Pala back to the house. It had been a long night, and I was desperate to finally take off this bloody dress. I had set a time to go to the phone company and get Mr. Dominique a new phone, but I had to do it before school since after I had work. This meant I would have to wake up at like five. It was a mess. By the time I got home, I had expected Mr. Dominique to be asleep already. He wasn't. A light was on at the end of the hall, making me wonder how he could possibly still be awake at like two in the morning. The party was a bust, since I had spent it talking about random nothings with Abby. She hadn't apologized, which I was grateful for. I didn't want to have to accept her apology when I didn't really want to. I know I should. It was just something small and stupid so why I was still so mad about it.

I shouldn't hold grudges. It was against the rules of nature, or whatever, but I had a right to be mad, right? I mean, technically she hadn't even said she was avoiding me, but she didn't try to tell me she wasn't. Did that mean she was? Did I even tell her I was mad at her? Did I have to? Surely she was old enough to take a hint, right?

It was the last night with Mr. Dominique, and I know I should feel relieved, heck, I should feel glorious that I was leaving his tight clutch on me, but I didn't. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he was funny. And nice. And smart. And a pain in my ass, but I liked him either way.

I obviously didn't like him like him, but liking him as a friend was a start. The night we went back to the office, and that guy harassed me, the reporters said things. Things I didn't personally like. They called me a child, but had they really looked into my life? Had they known that I was the only girl in a household of five, and I had to take care of all of them? I was the one they came to seeking advice. I was the one who helped them and comforted them in their time of need. I was the one who brought smiles to their faces the anniversary of my parents' death. I was the one who created our Chore Schedule. That was me. Me.

Did they know that? Why would they judge me without knowing me? That question was hypocritical though. I judged the girls who dress horribly. I judged the jocks that went to our school. But I didn't know their story. I didn't know why they acted like that, so I had no right to judge them.

"There was no need to wait up for me, ya know." I announced, leaning against the open doorway. He didn't look up. He didn't say a word. He was just... silent. Almost too silent. "Hello...?" I asked, leaning forward a bit in anticipation. He glanced up for a moment. His dark eyes analyzing the situation.

"What is it, Zoe?" He asked, coolly. Like the first day I worked for him.

"You didn't have to wait for me." I repeated, crossing my arms over my chest. His dark eyes zoomed in on his work, blocking out anything I might have said.

"Fine. Goodnight." I muttered, turning away. His sigh made me mad. He treated me like I was some kid! Yet, when we were at Starbucks, it was very clear that I wasn't some child to him. Whatever. If I couldn't stay in check with my feelings, it was good to know he could.

************

After my head hit the pillow, I was knocked out asleep. I had slept perfectly well until I felt a bright light shin directly in my face. I groaned, and stuffed my face into the pillow which smelt like spice and manliness. What the hell? I blinked my eyes open, and found I was back in Mr. Dominique's room. Blinking quickly, I rubbed my eyes with my hot pink manicured hands. A hot breath fanned the back of my neck, making my lips stretch in a small smile. A warm body was pressed against my back, making me sigh in content. A large hand was laying comfortably over my stomach.

Turning my neck a bit, I stretched it to see what time it was on the clock hanging above the bed rest.

"Sh," I heard him hush from behind me. My eyes widened at the fact that he was awake. "Go back to sleep." He whispered, dozing off. As I turned back around, I noticed he was shirtless. Again. Every night we had woken up together, and he was shirtless. Yet, it never ceased to make me breathless. His perfectly sculpted rock hard abdominals were only made from working out every-day. Which reminded me that I needed to go on a jog. I was nearly out of the ultra-comfortable bed, which is hands shot out lightning face, and shoved me back down on the bed. I gasped when I saw his tired face hovering over mine. My stomach clenched, making my breaths come out in short pants.