“Sure it wasn’t. What happened, Zara?”
“I went to the race with my friend Constance and Ares tried to tell me to go home. Actually, he tried toorderme to go home. I got mad and decided I was going to race his friend. And then Ares got into the car with me. We were stopped after the race, which I won by the way.”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous street racing can be? What could have happened to you?”
“I know…”
“I don’t think you do. You can’t go around being so reckless, Zara. Think of others. What would your parents do if something happened to you?” Uncle Xavier says.
“I’m only the spare. I’m sure the family would survive,” I mumble.
“Is that what you think? You’re some kind of spare kid? When has anyone ever given you that idea?” Uncle Xavier stops at a red light and looks at me.
“No, it was a joke.” I stare out the window so he can’t see my lie. Knowing my parents love me doesn’t mean they need me. They have Kyla and they have each other. Sure, they’d be hurt if I were to die, but they would survive. And honestly, they’d probably be better off after a short grieving period. They wouldn’t have the burden that I’m becoming. “Oh, they left dad’s car on the street. Did you get the keys from them?”
“Got them. I’ll get it home,” Uncle Xavier says.
When he stops at my sister’s house, I pause. “Thank you.”
“I will always come and bail you out, Zara. All you have to do is tell them to call your lawyer and they legally have to call me,” he says.
I climb out of the car and wait for him to drive off before I walk inside. There are guards around but they don’t pay me any attention. My parents bought my sister this house. And herhusband being, well, a Valentino means he comes with armed guards.
I sneak down to the basement. I don’t want to see anyone. I can hide here for a while until my dad eventually figures out where I am.
Shit, Constance… I left her.
Digging my phone out of my bag, I find a heap of missed messages from her.
Constance:
Where are you?
Constance:
Just let me know you guys are okay?
Constance:
Spencer just said you got arrested. Call me when you can. I’m sorry.
Why is she sorry? She didn’t make me do something stupid. That choice was all on me.
Sitting down on the ground of my sister’s wine cellar, I send Constance a text back.
Me:
Sorry. I’m fine. I’m at my sister’s now. I’ll call you tomorrow. Sorry our sleepover got ruined. Are you okay?
I then flick through the rest of my messages, opening the one from Ares.
Ares:
You okay?
I send him a thumbs-up emoji. Because I don’t know what else to tell him. I’m never okay. I just pretend to be.
I’m on the floor when I hear footsteps. Shuffling backwards while trying to not be seen, I jerk away when a bottle raises in the air, aimed directly at my head. “Wait! Don’t hit me!” I call out.
