I force a smile. I'm finding this attitude towards my recent social activities tiresome. They are underestimating me; I can be both a girl interested in a boy and an athlete moving ahead in her field. In fact, I find it a little bit sexist that everyone thinks I'm going to suddenly lose my identity just because I've found another facet of myself. "I'm fine but thank you."
Several girls are standing behind Kelly, eyeing me every so often. Their giggling and chatting can only mean one thing, they are eager to discuss more about the image of Max and me from my birthday. I tell them the truth—just like I've been doing every day since it was posted.
Nothing happened.
I'm not sure why they don't believe me. Maybe it's got something to do with the big frickin' goofy grin that stretches my cheeks whenever I hear his name.
I drive home and it's only when I pull into my garage that I check my phone. I lean back in my seat and watch the roller door hit the pavers. I could just fall asleep right here. I have a voicemail from a private number and a message from Toni, but my eyes get heavy as I stare at the screen. I bat my eyelids and then close them completely. I wiggle my toes, getting comfortable. My breathing deepens. Suddenly my phone vibrates and I jerk upright. Fumbling to pull it to my ear, my eyes open at half-mast. "Hello?"
"Is this Cassidy Slater?" a strong, sturdy voice asks.
I sit up and rub my eyes to life. "Yes."
"My name is Michael. I'm an associate of Mr. Storm's. He has a proposition for you. When can you meet him?
Frick.
"Um." I rub an increasingly moist palm down my thigh.
"Will tomorrow at twelve p.m. suffice?"
"No." I clear my throat and try to keep my voice steady. "Um, I have rehearsals."
"After five then?"
"Ah..." I squint at nothing in particular and strain to find a reasonable excuse to object, but I come up short. "Yes. Yes, I can do that. Where will I be meeting him?"
"I will send a car to collect you tomorrow. What time suits you?"
"A car. Fancy."
"Not really. It's just general procedure, Ms. Slater."
"Um, no, I didn’t mean, like,fancy." I chuckle nervously. "Not like I was being treated or ya know, fancy, like, la di da..." I slap my forehead. "I'll be home by five-thirty."
His voice is mirthless. "We will collect you at six then."
"Do you know what this is about?"
"No."
I take a quick, uneasy breath. "Ah. Okay."
"See you tomorrow."
"Okay."
The Godfather
It's a black statesman,I think. I've told my dad who I'm going to see, as well my mum and Toni. I've written a big note on the fridge just in case I end up in a trunk.
That's a joke.
Sort of.
My dad believes Jimmy to be very refined and generous, but without a doubt, also a man you do not want to cross. I'm not even sure how to cross a man like Jimmy Storm, but I sure as hell don't plan on doing it. I clutch my bag and thank the man holding the passenger door open. As I step inside the car, I begin to fidget.
The windows are pitch-black on the outside, but easily seen through on the inside, which I didn't think was legal. But then, he is Jimmy Storm.
