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Evangeline
My hands clench the steering wheel tight as I make the drive to school. My heart pounds, not only because of the worry I have for Marco, but the thought of the mess I’ve made. The consequences of being associated with me have gotten Marco into trouble. I saw him get on his knees as I looked in the rear view mirror. My hands begin to shake, so I pull over to the side of the road. I need to try and get myself together. It doesn’t help that I don’t have a license and only know the basics about driving a car.
“I shouldn't have left.” I drop my hands, not sure what else to do. He told me to go, but it feels so wrong leaving him. Trent tried to shoot him! Now, Marco’s the one being arrested. I pull the knitted hat from off the top of my head, bringing it to my nose. It smells like him. I suck in a calming breath. I’ll drive back by. That’s what I’ll do.
I put the hat on as I turn the car around and head back toward the Bradfords’ home, but when I get there everyone is gone. I sit at the bottom of the driveway, not sure what my next step should be. I fish my phone out of my bag and text Marco, which I know is useless if he’s on his way to the police station. I still give it a try.
Me:Are you okay? What should I do?
Taking a deep breath, I realize he already told me what he wants me to do. I pull the car out and start back toward school. That’s when I realize his phone is on the front seat, so there’s no way that he’ll be answering the message I sent. I should go to his house! I can tell Sophia what happened, and I’m sure she and Nick will know how to handle this mess. Then of course, my mind blanks when I try and remember how to get back to his house. I wasn’t paying close enough attention when we were driving there yesterday, because most of the time I was focused on Marco. I fiddle with the buttons on the screen of the dash, having no idea what I'm doing. This car is too damn fancy. Especially for someone that doesn’t operate a car on a daily basis. I hit the button that has a phone shape on it, praying that it works.
Calling Home,an automated voice says over the speakers. It rings twice before Sophia’s voice fills the car.
“Did you know some cats are actually allergic to humans? I read that this morning.” She clucks her tongue like she's really thinking this over.
“No?” I respond. I actually didn't know that but it makes sense.
“Evangeline?” Her voice perks up.
“Yes, it’s me. There’s a problem.” I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. I don’t want them to be mad at me. This wouldn't have happened if Marco wasn’t picking me up. I don’t know what Trent’s deal is, but it’s obvious he’ll stop at nothing. I think it’s all ego or something. I don’t understand it. He doesn’t even know me. Because my grandma works for him, it doesn’t mean that he owns us.
“There always is.” She lets out a long sigh. I can hear her moving around. “Tell me what happened.” I do. I tell her everything but the kissing part. She doesn’t need to know those tiny details.
“Well, then you go to school.” Her voice is calm. She doesn't sound worried at all. Which makes me think that this might be a common occurrence in the Davinci home.
“Just go to school?” I repeat.
“It’s very important that when a Davinci tells you to do something when trouble is on the rise, you do it, Evangeline. This way they need not worry you’re safe. They can tend to what they need to. You’ll learn this in time.” Her words strike me as odd, but so much is going on that I don’t dwell on them.
“Okay.” I guess that does make sense. It’s not as though I can do anything.
“Go to school, Evangeline. Everything will be taken care of,” she reassures me. “Don’t forget to ask your grandma about dinner,” she adds happily before hanging up. She doesn’t seem the least bit worried that Marco might be in a jail cell right now.
It puts me at ease as I make the rest of the drive to school. I try and pay attention to what’s going on in class as best I can, but I keep looking up for Marco. I even find myself looking for Trent at every turn, now that I know what he’s actually capable of. I continue to obsessively check my phone, worrying that I might have missed a call from Marco. The day passes brutally slowly. I notice at lunch everyone is giving me a wide berth or barely looking my way. The couple of girls that do look my way give me death glares.
I’m thankful when we are finally released and I head back toward Marco’s car. Now what do I do? He hasn't called me yet. I check my phone again, and now it’s dead from me fidgeting with it all day. Then again, how the heck would he call me when I have his phone? I guess I can head home and charge it and wait. He has to come get his car at some point. I debate calling Sophia again on Marco’s phone, but I don’t want to bother her. What if they’re in the middle of handling it or getting Marco out of jail, and I interrupt something? It’s better to stay out of the way for now.
I drive slowly back home, doing my best to obey all traffic laws despite some horns honking behind me. When I pull into the driveway, I park off to the side. I grab my bag, thankful that I don’t see Trent’s Land Rover anywhere. I hope he’s the one that actually got thrown in jail. He’s the one that had a freaking gun. Let’s not forget Marco downplayed that whole situation. He’d made it seem like it was nothing. As though it was a common occurrence for him. I’m not even sure it’s something I can be okay with. I reach up, touching my lips. The way he kisses me makes me forget about everything else in the world but him. Although the Davincis are nice, I need to remember what sort of lifestyle they lead.
I gasp when someone grabs my arm, causing me to drop my backpack onto the hard ground. I can hear my new laptop crack. I jerk my arm, looking up to see it’s Mrs. Bradford.
“What are you doing?” I ask. Maybe she doesn't recognize me with the hat on. She shoves me hard. My back hits the side of the garage and my head follows suit. My glasses, which I’d forgotten I was still wearing, fall from my face.
“Shit.” Her voice is shrill.
I close my eyes. The pain in my head begins to throb.
“You're fine,” she says.
I slowly open my eyes.
“You’re. Fine,” she grits out and smooths down her tennis skirt.
I nod, knowing from her tone that she’s waiting for me to agree, and she’ll take nothing less. “What, do you weigh five pounds? I barely pushed you.” I stand there not sure what to do or say. Tears threaten to leak from my eyes, but I hold them back.
“You stay away from that Davinci boy, or I’m going to make life very hard on your grandma,” she finally says. “I might not fire her. After all, she cooks decently. But I can make her fucking miserable. I’ll work her to death.”
“Please,” I whisper. Grams is already working too much. I have a feeling the real reason she can’t fire my grandma is because that would go against her husband, who clearly wants to stay out of the Davinci’s path.
She pats my cheek roughly. “I’m doing you a favor. You’re a pretty thing. Why soil yourself with the likes of a Davinci?” She turns, stepping on my glasses as she walks away. “You’re welcome,” she throws over her shoulder as she slips back inside her home. I stand there for a moment before I bend down and pick up my broken glasses, shoving them into my pocket. I fight the sting in my eyes so I don’t cry. Grandma will know if I’ve been crying. I touch the back of my head and wince, knowing I’m going to have a bump.
Could this day get any worse? It started out with a sweet kiss and now? Now, I really don’t know. I hate to think it but could Mrs. Bradford be right? Could I even handle a Davinci?
