My eyes go wide as saucers, quietly pleading with Constance not to say anything else. My pleas go unnoticed, though.
“Because they’re all too scared of Ares, and he’s made it very clear that she’soff-limits.”
“Ares De Bellis?” Mum looks at me, her gaze full of questions.
“Uncle Marcel ordered him to watch out for me. It’s nothing. You know how those De Bellis boys like to follow orders like good little soldiers.” I roll my eyes.
“Sure,” Mum says, but I can tell she’s not buying it. “Want me to have a word with Marcel? Get him to tell Ares to back off?”
“It’s fine. I’m handling it,” I lie. I’m not handling it, but Ares backing off right now is the last thing I need. I broke down worse than I have in weeks because he wasn’t at school for half the day. I might not like him, but I need him.
“I’m making chicken casserole. Do you girls want dinner?” Mum asks.
I look to Constance. “We can order something and eat up here?” I offer.
“I could eat casserole,” Constance says. “If you want to.”
“Sure. We’ll be down soon,” I tell Mum. “Thanks.”
“No worries.”
I wait until my mum leaves the room and then I collapse onto the sofa.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know the Ares thing was a secret,” Constance says.
“There is noAres thing,” I groan.
“Does he know that?” Constance sits next to me.
“Yes.” The truth is… I’m not even sure that I know that there is nothing between Ares and me. “I kissed him today,” I blurt out.
“But there’s no Ares thing?” Constance smiles.
“Shut up. I hate him.”
“Sure, I go around kissing all the girls I hate,” she says.
“Argh, life would be easier if I liked girls.”
“It really wouldn’t be.” Constance lets out a humourless laugh.
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” I tell her. I know it’s not easy for her. People judge her for her sexuality and that’s not okay. She can love whomever she wants to love.
“It’s cool,” she says.
My phone buzzes and when I look at it, I see a message from Ares asking if I’m okay. I send him a thumbs-up emoji.
“He’s texting you already?” Constance asks. “He must really like you if he’s texting you now.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s at a race with Spence, and usually the only thing those boys focus on at those races is Spencer’s car and making sure he wins.”
“A race? Like a street race?”
“Yep, that kind. Spencer races, not Ares,” Constance clarifies.
“Do you know where it is?”
