Numbered

Chapter Nine

It was as if Michel knew exactly what was wrong when she walked into the kitchen that evening. She had been sent to bed with an empty stomach and had received no breakfast either. None of the Worths had spoken a word to her since last night and she had received the cold shoulder from Mr and Mrs Worth when they went out to work. It was a Saturday today. Jared was out, and Kylie was thankful she didn’t have to face him. She still didn’t know what his attitude was. He had seemed angry last night but she didn’t know what he was angry at her for. She had thought it had been because of the fight but his words that his friend deserved it echoed in her brain. The last words he’d uttered to her, “accept the truth”, left her confused. What truth did she have to accept?

Her head was pounding by the time she arrived to make dinner. Whether it was from the champagne she’d tried last night or the punch delivered by Mrs Worth, Kylie was unsure.

“What the hell happened?” Michel asked, bluntly, gesturing to her jaw, where an ugly bluish black bruise had already surfaced.

“Don’t even ask, Michel. Me and my temper.” She began to recount the story, leaving out the minor detail of her and Jared dancing together. Michel’s eyes widened when she told him of Madam Worth’s actions.

She flinched when he took her chin in his hands and scrutinised her handiwork. “She’s got a good right hook on her, I’ll give her that. Does it hurt?”

“I’ve had worse to be honest,” she replied. A bruise was nothing compared to the many cuts and scars all over her body.

“Hmmm, well I suppose you can’t really do much, apart from hope they forget about it. Jared, though, he’ll understand. You just need to be honest with him. Talk to him.”

“I’m scared that I’ll tell him too much. I’ve already told him about my arrest and my parents and I don’t-“

“Why are you scared? He’s hardly going to run to the next Official. Look, following Michel’s advice never hurt anyone,” he says with a smile. I nod.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Now let’s get started with the Bolognese.”

Kylie shaped the mince into meat-balls and popped the spaghetti into the sauce-pan, allowing it to soften. She had already learnt so much from Michel and couldn’t wait to get back home to cook up something other than soup for her grandmother. When she’d set out all the necessary herbs and utensils, she sat back and watched Michel at work. He could work magic, turning a bunch of raw, almost inedible ingredients into a master-piece for the eyes and the mouth.

Three steaming plates of spaghetti were ready within an hour, just as the Worths walked in through the door, and Kylie quickly delivered them to the dining table. She avoided eye contact with them but snatched glances at Jared, who thanked her quietly when she handed him his meal. She tried to read him but it was impossible. His face was blank. He ate his meal in silence while his parents discussed business. They seemed to have little interest in their son. Once again, she felt a pang of sympathy for him.

Michel handed her a plate of spaghetti when she had finished serving the Worths. It was the most delicious meal she’d ever had. The sauce was perfect, the meatballs tender.

“Talk to him,” Michel said, when Jared had finished his meal and went to his room.

She bit her lip as she knocked on his door later in the evening.

“Come in,” he called. He looked surprised when she walked in. She wrung her hands in front of her and bit her tongue.

“Yes?” He was sitting on his bed. He had a book in his hand, which he closed and put beside him.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry, Jared. For ruining your night. I was stupid, I didn’t think-“

“I’m not angry with you about that,” he sighed. “God, if you’d given me half a chance I would’ve beaten him up too.”

She smiled a little.

“I over-reacted last night. I should be apologising,” Jared continued. “But all that stuff you told me before, I wanted to be here for you. But if you don’t trust me…Kylie, you’ve got to let me in.”

She sat down beside him on the bed. “I do trust you. But that’s why I’m scared. I’m scared how easily I can tell you things.”

“Don’t be.” His eyes studied hers. Her eyes flickered to his lips and he leaned in closer.

She felt her heart pounding when his lips brushed hers. The ringing of a bell startled her and she stood up. What had just happened? What was about to happen?

She looked back at Jared and saw him close his eyes in frustration. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You better go.”

Kylie grimaced as she rushed out of his room and down the hall to the Worths’ living room where his parents were. She had never wanted this. She never even fathomed that her and Jared could be a possibility. But she knew she was only fooling herself. She had feelings for him. But she always thought they’d be unrequited, and she was fine with that. This confused her. The fact that he had wanted to kiss her seemed impossible.

 Madame Worth asked her to dust the living room and she did so. She tried to push the issue to the back of her mind. Madame Worth seemed to have softened a little since their altercation the other night. She wasn’t as sharp with Kylie. Kylie sensed that maybe she was regretting hitting her. After all, it wasn’t a very upper class thing to do. If her associates heard about it, they’d have a field day.

After cleaning the living room, Madame Worth dismissed her.

She walked to her room and took a shower, hoping to relieve some of the stress. Her muscles were tense, and she could feel the knots in her back.

 She changed into her nightwear and towel-dried her hair. There was a knock on the door.

 “Yes?”

Jared peeked his head around the door, a sheepish smile on his face. “I wanted to talk. Can we?”

 Kylie nodded. She needed to sort this out.

He closed the door behind him, and sat down beside her. His hair was mussed up as if he had been tearing it out.

 “I don’t know where to start,” he admitted. “I don’t want to lose you, Kylie. I don’t care if you just want to be friends, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I can’t be in a relationship, Jared, not unless I want to get hurt. Because it’ll be me facing the consequences; I’m the Zero.”

 “You want to, though?” he asked and she swallowed.

 “Yeah. Of course I do,” his eyes lit up when she said this. “But this is the worst timing and the worst place. And I’m the worst person.”

 “I disagree on the last note. You’re the best person,” he said. “But I think you’re right. So…friends?” It seemed unfair. That she had to compromise in some way because she was a Zero. That he had to compromise. But she had no choice.

 “Friends.”