The New Girl Has A Secret

8: Getcha Head In The Game

Chapter: 8

Evan's POV:

Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. The only thing that is going through my head right now. After Summer had caught me I practically ran to my motorcycle and sped off. I texted a random girl I had saved on my phone. I thought that maybe if she came home and found me with a girl then she would think that it wasn't me. When she came I was petrified. Last time she was angry at me she threatened to bury me in Josh's backyard.

I need to find out what was different about her. I just- I need to know. I need to. I need to know everything because I don't want history to repeat itself. I don't want to get hurt again.

So far I knew a couple of things about Summer:

1. She uses physical activity to release her energy and thoughts

2. She's right handed

3. She can hide her emotions when she wants. Just like a book, she's the narrator, she says the story of her emotions, she can stop it whenever she wants, having the audience begging for more.

4. She has faint stretch marks on her skin and I have two theories as to why she has them. One being that she got them through puberty or that she was once fat.

That's my theory and that the reason that she's the perfect girl. That's her drive and that is what im going to use against her.

What if im wrong?

You are Evan Carter, you are never wrong.

But you could hurt her. 

Who fucking cares?

You do.

No I don't. Why would I care?

Because you don't want people to get hurt the way you did.

Fine. You win.

Dah! Because I'm amazing.

Shut up. You're stupid.

And you are the one having the fight in his own head between his conscious. 

Shut up. Ugh. I need to clear my head. Girl or football? That's a tough one.

Go for the football, that way you won't hurt a girl's heart after you throw her away like a Kleenex.

Will you shut the fuck up? I'm calling up a girl. Let me look through my contacts...







Summer's POV:

Bang. Bang. Bang. I reached over to my phone on the dressing table. "8:00pm". Great. I slept for way longer than I had hoped. I quickly jumped out of the duvet to see if anyone was home. A pinkish glow was being emitted through the balcony doors because the sun was beginning to set. Bang. Bang. What the fuck was that noise?

"Evan! More-" nope. Not listening to that. Ew. No. Ew. Ew. Ew. I think im going to throw up the pizza. Oh, that delicious pizza, with that even more delicious boy. Ok, think Summer, no need to be distracted by his amazing eyes and those lips, those lips that I had pressed against mine only hours earlier. Concentrate!

Evan is obviously busy so it's time to do some snooping. I obviously don't know enough about him do while Evan is um- 'occupied' I get to turn into Summer Holmes. Ooohh! This calls for my cute beret! Does Sherlock Holmes wear a beret? No he wears that weird hat like thing with the flaps that look like little ear warmers. Concentrate.

I quickly grabbed my phone and trudged towards the hall.

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I looked in countless of rooms but they were all empty it was nearly nine o'clock maybe I should just go back to my room. One more. I don't know why my heart told me to open the double doors. It was painted pristine white and had cravings, the door handle was brass. I grasped the cool metal of the handle and electricity shot through my fingers- the good tingly kind not the omg-im-gonna-die kind. Ive already discovered two things about this room and I haven't even entered it. One, it was recently used and is used frequently. That one was easy to catch because the handle if observed closely has marks both old and new. Another thing that I have learnt is that although it is frequently used it is used by only one person.






As I took a deep breath I opened the door to the room.



"woah" its beautiful. The room that stood before me was a study and had rows and rows of books that reached the raised ceiling. It had the most beautiful piano I had ever seen. It stood grand in the centre of the room, music sheets sprawled all over the top of the piano and on the leather cushioned seat. A large desk sat towards the front of the study and had a shelf full if books, folders and albums.



I walked towards the piano and tried to pick up as many things as I can about it. There wasn't much to it except for the fact that it is very precious to its owner. It was obviously taken care of as all the keys were wiped down and free of dust. I picked up a music sheet and gasped at the name scrawled at the top in one of those doctor handwriting, "Christiano Antonio Be Lavachi" one of the most famous composers. I had researched him last year for my music assessment and I was fascinated. He remained anonymous so used "Christiano Antonio Be Lavachi" as his pen name. Three years ago he stopped making or at least stopped publically playing music and practically disappeared off the face of the music world. It was quite the tragedy to piano composers and players.



So the question was why was his work on this piano in written form? No one had his written work- at least that's what sources said. Apparently he only sent printed copies. I pressed my finger gently against the signature and pulled my finger back to find an ink mark on the ridges of my finger. It was definitely real.


I left the questions that were racing through my mind and walked towards the shelf that stood taller than I was. I pushed up on my tippy toes to the shelf above my head and wrapped my fingers around a leather binded album. I pulled it down towards my eye level so I could take a closer look at it. The first thing that caught my eye was the tear at the top right hand corner of the black leather. It was obviously ripped but was it an accident or did they rip it on purpose out of anger or sadness? 

My fingers danced across the front cover and the cool leather welcomed me. I turned the front cover and on the front page there was a sort of letter handwritten,

"To my son, 
I would have liked to give you this in person but since I can't here is a photo album. 
It contains all of our memories, you can add photos to the album were I have left off. I'm so sorry." 



That's it. That's all it said, no pen name, nothing. I looked closer at the paper and tear drops stained the paper. Should I still look through it? I ignored my thoughts and decided to turn to the first picture. Two parents still young were holding a small bundle tightly in their arms. They were at a hospital and it was obvious that it was their child as the smiles on the faces were so bright it could light up the entire room. The little boy in their arms had such deep green eyes full of life that i have not once seen in Evan's eyes. What happened to him? 



The next pages were of the little boy growing up, when he was in a stroller, when he took his first steps, holding his dad's hands. In each picture he was so happy, so beautiful and young. The next pages were filled of him playing and laughing with his dad.

I looked down towards the one picture that caught my eye, the little boy- Evan- was holding a certificate a smile on his face that Evan never shows. His parents were holding his shoulders smiling showing their pearly whites. I squinted trying to read what was on the certificate but it was blurry as it was taken a couple years ago as Evan looks like 10. He looked so happy. 

I turned the page but was shocked to see what was the page. It was picture of Evan and his mom. His dad wasn't in the picture and Evan was much older, it looked like it was taken two years ago. The smiles were sad like they were forced and not genuine. I picked at the picture and unlike the other photos it was glued on rather than printed on the papers.

I swapped betwen the two pages trying to put two and two together. Something obviously happened in the years between the certifiacte photo and the one without his dad. But what? 

Creak.

OMG! what was that? I could hear the door knob opening and I frantically tried to put the album back. Im gonna die, his going to catch me and murder me. Dear god, i lived a good life please dont let him see me. If you let me live through this I'll- the door opened and i ran behind one of the many shelf and crouched down to continue praying. 

I peeked betwen two of the books and watched as a very sweaty and shirtless Evan walked into the room. Ew. I dont want to think about how the sweat found its way over his eight-pack. I took a deep breath as he sat down on the piano and muttered something incoherent as he picked up one of the music sheets and took out a pen. What is he doing in here?

My mouth was left hanging as he bagan to play beautifully on the piano. Evan plays? His fingers danced on the keys and his breathing evened from its panting state. His eye lids dropped and his head was tilted back as he let the music flow through his body. 

This was the perfect chance to leave from the opened door. I held my breath as I slowly stood from my crouching position. Slowly and carefully I beagn to tiptoe from behind the shelf and towards the door. I kept my eyes peeled on the door. Eyes on the prize and keep your head in the game. Gotta getcha getcha head in the game. Stop singing High School Musical. Summer keep your head in the game.

Evan's head whipped around so fast that I was shocked he didnt get a whiplash.

"Get your head in the game?" he asked me. Fuck did I say that out loud? 

"Yes, yes you did. Mind explaining what you are doing in my study?" I even said that out loud? Fuck. Evan stood up and started walking towards me as I stood frozen in my tank and shorts.

"I- um- i- got lost. Yeah, I got lost." I told him sheepishly.

"Yeah sure, so what were you doing behind the shelf?"

"I was admiring your books. You know how much i love books? Books are my second love."

"After what?"

"Food?" I replied after hesitation and he chuckled at my stupid answer.

"What were you really doing in here?" His breath fanning my face. It was then that i realised that his face was an inch away from mine. If he leaned any closer his lips what be against mine. I took a step back and cleared my throat.

"If you can spy on me then i have every right to snoop through your stuff, dumbass." I told him boldly as he took another step closer to me.I took a step back. He took a step closer. I took a step-

"Ow." My back hit the shelf and the contact took me by surprise. He enclosed the space and leaned his head down so that we were straing into each other's eyes. 

"Does our close proximity frighten you?" He asked smugly.

"No, what frightens me is that you used the word 'proximity' in a sentence correctly." I pushed past him and walked towards the door. Before stepping out of the door, I turned around and opened my mouth.

"I win." I whispered slowly and turned on my heel and left to go back to my room. 













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FYI: i made up "Christiano Antonio Be Lavachi". He isnt really a person.

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