Excitedly, Duke obeyed the familiar command. Leaping forward, the dog pulled down on the door handle, riding the momentum of the door as it glided open to reveal the bright and airy room. Gone were the days of locked doors, Gavin silently mused. A memory of Ebony's burning eyes filled with hatred, wariness, and, worst of all, fear, threatened to surface, but Gavin pushed it away. He didn't want to think about the past.
Standing in the doorway, he forced himself back to the present as he looked into her room. Equal in size to his, that was where the similarities between their rooms ended. While his was designed in subtle chamois, blacks, and ivory, a look Whitney had described as refined masculine, Ebony's room could only be described as softly feminine.
From the walls down to the linen were all a vanilla cream white. The bright light pouring in from the windows made him squint as his eyes tracked the dog who bounded silently through the palette of creamy whites, ash gray, and the occasional hints of powdery pink.
Today the gauzy white curtains that usually encircled her bed were pulled back and Gavin could see an arm lying against the fluffy comforter and so did Duke. With one leap he was onto the bed sniffing at her hand before making his way up to the pillows.
Gavin grinned evilly and turned to go down the curving stairs. He laughed to himself as he heard a tired protest and squeal as Duke no doubt licked her face to wake her.
Satisfied, Gavin continued through the living room and into the kitchen. Prepping the coffee machine, he sat down at the table and looked out at the pool. The house was blessedly quiet. Thank Christ. Last night, they had waved their parents off to their next trip to God knows where. Gavin didn't care where it was, as long as it wasn't here.
He wasn't sure when it started exactly, but somewhere along the way, his parents' absence was vital to keeping both his and Ebony's sanity. From the very beginning, they both had contentious relationships with their parents: Whitney's cool, almost dispassionate stance towards her daughter, and his own antagonistic relationship with his father. Living apart was the only possible way forward.
Last night, before they departed, his mother had kissed his cheek and told him to be asweet boy. Which was just code for "look after Ebony and stay out of trouble." His father on the other hand was less subtle.
Grant Rosebank had given him that look, the only look Gavin had ever received from the man, one that pinned him down with the weight of ten tons.
"Don’t let anything happen to Ebony and don't fuck up," he warned and turned to walk away to the waiting car that would take them both to the airport. He paused at the door of the car and looked back at Gavin, a smirk played at his lips which only made Gavin suspicious. "Oh, and good job at the tournament," Grant said. "You may just have a shot at beating me."
Gavin's brows had risen at that. The last time he sparred with his dad they nearly killed one another. Mom had yelled at them both, a very rare sight since Whitney Rosebank never ever raised her voice. The woman redefined the meaning of unflappable.
Seeing that he meant it, Gavin smiled, baring his teeth. "I'm ready whenever you are, old man."
The tournament fight between him and Cameron had been surprising. Grabbing his coffee, Gavin stood by the counter and drank from the steaming cup as he replayed the fight. Cameron had come at him fast and hard, scoring a handful of points out the gate. There wasn't necessarily any anger in his friend's attacks but there was a desperate determination in them Gavin couldn't place. Well, healmostcouldn’t place, that was until he saw his friend's gaze flick toward the sidelines. Gavin hadn't needed to look to see what Cameron was looking at. Like a compass always finding true north Gavin knew exactly where Ebony had been sitting. That was the second time he caught Cameron's wandering gaze. Gavin sighed at the thought, just as he did that day then followed it with a hard kick to Cameron's unguarded helmet, sending him toppling over.
Finishing his cup, Gavin tossed it into the dishwasher and grabbed his keys off the counter just as his phone buzzed. He smirked at the message.
Ebony: I would advise you to run. I was sleeping so good too when I woke up with a dog tongue on my face. I even had thirty minutes left on my damn alarm!!
Taking that as his cue, he left for school early.
Gavin stepped into his AP French class, the sound of chairs squeaking across the floors and people talking filling the small classroom. The teacher, Miss Burnes, was at her desk hiding her phone behind the monitor while trying to secretly text. His eyes scanned the room automatically, pinpointing the empty seat near the front. Hers.
She wasn't here. She should be.
His jaw tightened and his hands flexed at his sides as he stiffly surveyed the class. One by one everyone fell into silence as their gazes caught his. He could feel the mask slipping away. The amiable expression that existed only because of her faded away from existence leaving only one emotion—displeasure.
Catching the gaze of two students who he knew were in the class before this with Ebony, he asked. "Where is she?"
The girl looked to the guy next to her and then back to Gavin, her eyes widening in worry. "She's not here today. She…she called out sick."
Son of a bitch.
Gavin turned on his heel and the teacher called out just as he began to walk through the doorway.
"Mr. Rosebank, please. You can't just-"
Gavin stopped mid-step, his spine straight like a steel pipe. He didn’t turn. He didn’t have to. His silent irritation cut through the air, quick and lethal like a loaded weapon.
Behind him Miss Burnes’ voice came out small and defeated, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop him. "At least make sure to turn in your assignment by the end of day. I already got Ebony's this morning."
Gavin continued walking. Within a few minutes he was inside his Bronco, and a few minutes later he was pulling out of a bakery's drive thru. The morning sun was bright and the Texas heat was slowly climbing as he pulled into the garage. As he grabbed the plastic bag, he eyed the black Camaro in the spot next to his. The engine was completely cold. She hadn't even attempted to go to school today. Gavin grinned appreciatively. It was rare for her to get one past him; he was usually far too attuned to everything she did.
But he should've known. He should've checked his calendar and he would've seen it right there. The predictable week that came around every month. Inside, Gavin reset thealarm and locked the door. The light clicks of nails hitting the tiled floored preceded Duke's arrival and he bent down to pet the dog's head as he kicked off his shoes.
"Bet you just been in here snuggling up to her while I was none the wiser huh?"
Duke just gave him a happy unapologetic stare.
