Familiar

I Mean Your Source Wasn't Very Reliable

Chapter Eighteen: I Mean Your Source Wasn't Very Reliable

Scott's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I studied Dylan as he kept glancing at his phone every ten minutes. Arabella had called him telling him she needed time. Dylan was so confused and I could tell he was not sure what was going on. 

"You okay?" I asked concerned.

"No." He sighed. 

I don't know what was going on but I wanted to find out. 

"Hey man, I know you need me but I really gotta go see Kayla." I lied.

"No it's fine! Tell her I said hi." He smiled weakly.

I grabbed my car keys and walked downstairs. 

"How is he?" I could hear mom whisper.

I stopped walking towards the front door. I went over to the living room where she was sitting with dad.

"He's a mess. I think something is going on though. Don't tell him but I'm going to see Arabella and find out what going on." I spoke quietly.

They smiled lovingly at me and I turned towards the front door. 

45 minutes~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I parked in front of the house that matched the address Kayla gave me. I got out of the car and walked to the front door. After I knocked the door opened. A little old lady stood in front of me smiling. 

"Hi, can I help you?" She asked.

"Um yes, does Arabella live here?" I asked curiously.

"As a matter of fact she does. You are?" She asked raising an eyebrow.

"Scott, I'm here to talk to her." I smiled friendly and extended my hand.

She shook it and let me inside.

"She's in her room. I would get her but she hasn't left her room for days." She sighed.

"That's okay. Would it be okay if I went upstairs?" I spoke softly.

She nodded and motioned me to follow her upstairs. She left me infront of a door and I opened it. I saw Arabella curled up in her covers with tissue all over the place. She looked up to see who it was and her eyes widened when she saw me.

"Scott?" She sat up.

"Hey." I smiled warmly.

I sat at the end of her bed and studied her. She looked terrible. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her hair was up in a messy bun. 

"We need to talk." I sighed.

"What's wrong?" Her voice filled with concern.

"I live with Dylan." I sighed.

She didn't look surprised just hurt.

"I know." She whispered.

"What?" I asked confused.

"Marissa visited me a couple days ago and told me everything. She also told me you guys are rich." She spoke softly.

I stared at her in shock. She must feel like Dylan didn't trust her. She had the wrong idea this whole time. 

"Arabella! This is why you're mad?" I sighed.

She nodded.

"Will you let me explain?" I begged.

She nodded once again as she stared at me.

"Dylan didn't tell you about me living with him because I asked him not to. I'm not very open when it comes to family. I felt like if people knew I lived with him they would think I was just using him. So he never lied to you. He couldn't have because it wasn't his lie to tell." I explained carefully.

"That's understandable." She seemed a little relieved.

"Yes, Dylan's father is rich. He owns a very popular hotel, which requires him to travel. He didn't tell you the truth because he knew how you would feel. He know you aren't comfortable with money and he felt like you wouldn't want to meet his parents if you knew." I explained faster.

She stared at me confused. Then her eyes had changed from confused to sad. 

"Dylan loves you so much Arabella. You can't let something like this get to you. I mean your source wasn't very reliable." I sighed.

She giggled at my comment and it made me smile. I knew then in that moment things were going to be okay.