Queen of Hearts

The "Mystery" Chauffeur

Azalea Evans

My gramma's driver was late. I was waiting at the airport with my 7 suitcases for almost two hours. Despite being poor, I had a lot of clothing.

I modeled in the summers for some spare cash, and I always got to keep the clothing and accessories from the shoots.

Who am I to say no to free designer sunglasses? And Louis Vuitton bags?

I guess my expensive wardrobe and impeccable taste hid the fact that I was absolutely broke to my school and friends. The only person in the whole school who knew my secret had been Zach.

Zach Bennett- my only true friend amongst my large friendship group. Sure, I liked my best friends  and tolerated my friends, but I know their friendship came with a price.

Zach was different.

We met one day when my mom had phoned in  unexpectedly  and informed me that she had run out of money and that next year I wouldn't be able to attend Glamorr high.

It was just too expensive.

I couldn't confide in  any of my friends, they'd ditch me the second they found out that my trust fund was as nonexistent as Deborah's boobs. Pre-her breast augmentation, I mean.

Unsure how to deal with my utter shock disappointment of my entire life being torn for something as worthless as money, I went to the back of the schools and found Zach- smoking with his friend Dickhead. That wasn't his actual name but it was something along those lines.

First, I just stood there, hoping he wouldn't notice that my mascara wasn't as perfect as usual.

Then, he quirked an eyebrow and said, "Can I help you?"

I shrugged and motioned to his cigarette, "Can I try it?"

At first he scoffed. I expected him to say no. Then, he chuckled and lit me a new one.

I remember sputtering and thinking it was gross.

After coughing up a storm, and asking him why he provoked death for something as nasty as that.

He shrugged and threw the question back at me.

Dickhead or Derek or Darren, decided to leave at that point and I'm still unsure why, it must've been fate, I confided in Zach.

After that he told me about some shit in his life and we bonded.

That's why I was shocked, when a Mercedes Benz that was picking me up was driven by Zach.

"Evans? Is that you?" He asked when he came out to help me with my luggage.

"Bennett, is that you?" I threw back in return.

He shrieked like a girl before dropping his suitcase and running to give me a hug.

Despite his reputation, Zach, wasn't such a bad boy.

I returned his hug and Zach shrieked again. "Ohmigod, you're hair!"

I dyed my hair purple, to represent my mourning for my mothers death. Not permanently of course, it would fade by the time the school year started.

"But you hate purple?"

It was true, purple was just an ugly color to me. But that was how I felt now. Ugly.

Obviously, I wasn't good enough for my mother to stay alive.

I thought she loved me.

I thought I loved her, too. But I didn't cry when she died.

The police just thought I was in shock. Who knows?

My mother and I hadn't been close, at least not in the conventional "Oh, let's grab brunch and go shopping" kind of way.

She had showed she loved me by working hard to send me to a great school, so my future would be different than hers.

I showed that I loved her by sending back stellar grades on my report card and some cash in the summers- when I could model.

Instead of explaining my reasoning, I vaguely said that sometimes things are different than they seem.

He took it as an answer and helped me load the rest of my bags into his car.

Another reason I love Zach, he didn't have to know  everything,  most of my friends would be angry at me if I forgot to tell the, a small detail of my life. But Zach never pestered or pressured me for details when I didn't want to share. 

I slid into the passenger seat and he started driving.

"So what brings you to Los Angelos? I thought you live in Oklahoma or something."

I laughed in response, "I lived in Pennsylvania, but now I'm living here to stay with my grandparents until I'm 18."

Zach smirked at me, through the mirror.

"What?" I asked, "Is there something on my face?"

"Nah, your face is perfect. I just love your laugh. It's adorable. And I didn't know the Winthrop's were you're grandparents."

Normally, I would hate being called adorable.

Adorable described puppies and kittens and babies. Not sexy goddesses like myself.

Except, with Zach I didn't care. He's seen me cry, he's seen me without make-up. He'd seen me fall flat on my ass when he took me ice skating for my birthday.

Despite me trusting Zach, I wasn't quite ready to talk about what happened with my mom and how my grandparents that rejected me were going to become my guardians. 

I guess talking about it would make it more real. 

So, I deflected the conversation back to him, "Wait, why are you picking me up instead of my gramma?"

"I'm a nice guy, and your chauffeur was on an off day so I decided to do my neighbor a favor and pick up her granddaughter for her." He responded smirking.

I gasped over dramatically in response, " Wait, I'm gonna be neighbors with "The Zachary Bennett." 

So for the rest of the two hour car ride, Zach and I joked around, and I pretended my mom wasn't dead for just a little while longer.