Sage knelt on the grass, exhausted from running. Had she gotten to America yet?
The cold gave her the answer. No, this wasn't Florida. She was still in London. What was worse: she was still in cold, cold London without a jacket or long sleeves.
There was no turning back. She was sure Dylan and Marc had moved up quite literally. Besides, she never wanted to go back to that house.
What about the deal? Dylan's mom hated her, Marc would stop at nothing to end her, and Dylan wasn't helping the situation of the latter. How could she pretend to be someone's girlfriend when he was clearly in love with someone else?
It was just another trick. Trick after lie after deception after trick. That was the reality of men. That was why she had to stay far away from them.
Was it just men, though? Sage had been tricked by more than enough females. Her mother had baited her into accepting law as a future ambition ever since she was five. Mean girls had locked her in the janitor's closet in high school. And the most recent, Amanda. How could Amanda do this, work with her boyfriend to get her assaulted?
It all came back to men. Her mother's cause was justified; she wanted her child to have a good future after her father's death. The mean girls locked her up because a boy their leader said he liked Sage. Mandy was blinded by love for a man who would rather kill her than risk his father's anger.
Love is bad, Gothel had told her at ten.
Love: something she'd come to hate with passion. Love had caused her too many consequences, even though she didn't feel it. Her mother…the tortures…
Oh God, Sage thought. What would Gothel say about her new boyfriend? If the news hit Twitter, she was done for.
Sage patted her sides. Holly Woods, she didn't have pockets. Or her phone.
A bright flash forced her eyes open.
She might have ended the deal, but the deal hadn't ended with her; which led to some unscheduled paparazzi time.
'What are you doing all alone, Mrs. Anthony?' said one guy with a huge digital camera.
'You just announced your relationship. How could you have broken up so quickly?' said another woman with a camera.
'Is the fame too much for you?'
'Did you have a row?'
'Was Dylan lying to the public?'
'Order!' Sage yelled as a last resort. She was supposed to be asking the questions, being the lawyer and all.
The paparazzi kept quiet, but their cameras kept working.
'Uh,' she started, 'Dylan and I are still a red hot item. We've been that for—three months now. Yeah. And nothing's gonna change that, so think about something else.'
'Then why are you alone?' Big Digital Camera guy asked.
'You were right. The fame felt a little too much for me. We kept our relationship a secret for just that reason.' Sage gave herself time to think. 'I'm alone because I'm waiting for him so we can go…get pizza.'
'Is that a euphemism for—you know?' one of the camera-holders asked.
She cringed. 'No. I felt kind of homesick, and I told Dylan that. That's why he told me to run off and wait for him to settle his friends so we could go get pizza at this pizzeria I love. You know how us Americans are with pizza.'
'What's your favorite one, then?'
'Does Dylan like it because of you?'
'When does he plan to go to America with you to meet your parents?'
A blonde camera-holder checked his phone for something. 'You were kneeling on the ground with a tear streaming down your cheek. Could that be the homesickness too?'
'Absolutely,' she replied.
'But if Dylan's scheduled to meet you here,' Blonde Camera-Holder asked, 'where is he?'
A black Mustang pulled over by her right at the perfect timing. The back car window rolled down.
'Hey, darling,' Dylan said.
'Here he is,' Sage said to the cameras. 'Good night, London.'
She got into the back seat with Dylan.
Thinking she was in a private place, she started her rant. 'What the duck were you—'
'Shh,' Dylan said, very quietly. 'You might have noticed that this is not my car.' He then said audibly, 'This isn't a place I'd like to be caught dead in either.'
'This isn't the position where we designed to extirpate you. Best keep it that way,' said a gruff voice from the driver's seat.
'What does extirpate mean?' Sage asked, also very quietly.
'At least you asked me,' Dylan said under his breath. 'I don't know either, but it usually means kill or hurt when Bobby says it in relation to me.'
'It does!' Bobby cheered sarcastically. 'Your little mistress has given you brain cells.'
'But why though?' Sage asked.
'Later,' he promised.
'Pourquoi pas maintenant?' Bobby asked in fluent French. 'Dites-lui comment nous avons donné un coup de pied à votre trou du cul satyrique, ou nous ferons monter le gaz.'
'Casse-toi!' Dylan exclaimed.
Suddenly, the car speed picked up from Leisurely Drive to Dylan, You're Done For. Despite it, Dylan crossed his arms and chanted, 'Tu ne me fais pas peur. Tu ne m'ennuyez pas. Tu es mon ami.'
'Are you trying to get us killed?' Sage asked.
'Bobby would never kill me while you're here,' Dylan said. 'Women are not allowed to witness their craft.'
'How unfortunately true,' Bobby said
With a hard brake, Bobby stopped the car. 'Au revoir, connard.'
Sage and Dylan got out from separate doors.
Before she could yell at or thank Bobby, the car was gone.
'Not the first time,' Dylan muttered.
The whole Anthony family had gathered at the entrance.
'Annabeth!' Zoe jumped on Sage again.
This time, Sage carried her properly. 'What's up, warrior princess?'
Zoe glared at Dylan. 'You haven't been very nice, Percy.'
'Bobby told us Sage ran away,' Mr. Anthony said. 'They also told us why.'
'We're greatly sorry,' Mrs. Anthony said, gracefully stepping forward. 'You know men and their friends. I'm sure Boris didn't mean to act that way.'
Mrs. Anthony glared at her son. 'Isn't that right, Dylan?'
'He kissed me, not the other way around,' Dylan lied.
'You're calling my sources false?' Mr. Anthony asked. 'I'll tell.'
'Please don't,' Dylan beseeched.
Zoe got down. 'We've agreed that you must be punished. You need to think about what you've done.'
'That's my girl,' Mr. Anthony said. 'Zoe has the perfect punishment for you.'
'One night…away from your girlfriend,' the youngster said dramatically.
Dylan went from calm to shocked quite easily. Typical of a drama prince. 'You can't be serious.'
'I swear by the River Styx,' Zoe said, pouting.
'The oath has been approved,' Mr. Anthony said. 'Zoe Anthony, take Sage to your room.'
'As my lord commands,' Zoe dragged Sage away with the force of a five-year-old looking for candy.
'Zoe,' Dylan whined behind them. 'Zoe, at least let me—'
Zoe pushed Sage into a room, got in herself, and locked the door behind her.
'Baby, talk to her,' Dylan begged.
Sage knew she should've complained, being his pretend girlfriend and all that, but she didn't look forward to sleeping with Dylan right away, not after what he'd made her go through.
'Until tomorrow, sweetie,' she said.
Ignoring all other protests, Zoe flipped the light switch.
The light revealed a bedroom with blue pretty much everything. Two midnight-blue queen beds at either side of one sky-blue king bed—all of which had azure-blue pillows—Carolina-blue furniture, Maya-blue curtains, Persian-blue tiles on the floor, a sapphire-blue rug on said floor, and electric-blue lights. Sage had never, ever seen so much blue. Not even the sky was as blue as Zoe's room.
'Welcome to my domain, or—as you mortals call it—my bedroom.' Zoe somersaulted into the middle bed. 'Do stay on the bed on my right.'
'Why can't I sleep in the bed at your left? Or the one you're in now?' Sage argued.
'You are in my domain. When in my domain, do as I say.'
Sage had the brief thought of Zoe becoming a politician. Shivering, she obeyed the child.
'I'm so excited to have you all to myself,' Zoe shrieked. 'Percy has told me nothing about you, which is good because now I can find out first-hand.'
'Before you start asking questions, I have one.'
'Go on.'
'Do you have anything I can change into? This dress makes me feel like I'm losing brain cells.'
Zoe nodded. She leaped out of bed, rummaged through a wardrobe, and pulled out a pair of black PJs.
'I'm sorry if it doesn't fit, but it's the best I have,' said the little girl.
Sage gladly took the nightwear, though she would've preferred it in green. It was a quirk she developed in her senior year.
'Anywhere I can change?' she asked.
Zoe opened the door to a dark closet.
When she went in, she saw that it wasn't a closet, but an empty room. It was painted white from floor to ceiling and had lots of scribbles, drawings, and pictures at every turn.
The scribbles she couldn't read. They were either in Greek symbols, cursive Latin, or languages that were everything except English. She caught one Spanish phrase: ¿Cuánta madera tiraría una marmota si una marmota pudiera tirar madera?
'How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?' Sage translated.
'A lot,' Zoe answered outside the room. 'You're spending a bit too much time in there.'
'In a minute.' Sage peeled off her dress but took a bit of time to wear the PJs because she was searching for other Spanish tongue twisters.
She found more Spanish, at least. But it wasn't a tongue twister. It was two phrases with green and blue eyes drawn flawlessly at the top: Lo vemos todo: We see everything.
'Annabeth,' Zoe called.
'Alright.' Sage threw on the pj's and left the space.
'That's my secrets room, you know,' Zoe said. 'You shouldn't have stayed that long. Now you know things.'
'Know what?' Sage asked. 'I didn't understand a word of what was written there.'
Zoe raised an eyebrow. 'Not a single word?'
'I read a bit of Spanish, but no more,' Sage admitted.
Zoe clutched her chest. 'There's not much Spanish in there, anyway. Bobby hates Spanish.'
'Say what now?'
'Not Spanish people. Just the language. But you're American. Why do you worry?'
'My dad was Mexican, so I'm kind of Spanish. Hispanic, that is. Which reminds me, who is Bobby?'
Zoe laughed for a long time, then stopped to look at Sage's stumped face.
'Wow. You don't know Bobby,' Zoe said.
'I want to know now. He seems dangerous,' Sage said.
'Not he; they. Bobby's non-binary,' Zoe said. 'Don't ask why, but I can tell you they didn't choose the path. They're not transgender or genderfluid or any of those sorts of things. They're just them…and plenty dangerous if they make you an enemy. Please be friends with Bobby, or things will be very difficult for you.'
Sage had guessed the last part from the car ride.
'Another question: did they and Dylan hook up?' she asked.
'More like Dylan tried to flirt with them and got a hook to the face,' Zoe said. 'The two "hate" each other ever since, but I think it's just that Dylan doesn't want to get attacked again, and Bobby doesn't want him to think they like him that way.'
Speaking of Dylan…
'If I must be honest, I don't know too much about your brother,' Sage said. 'Yeah, we're dating, but that doesn't mean we'll know it all.'
'You want me to tell you?' Zoe asked, smirking.
'Please?' Sage replied with folded hands and her attempt at a puppy-dog look.
'No,' Zoe said. 'Why should a little child like me ruin such an opportunity for intimacy? It's just a few hours, my future sister-in-law, then you can know his every detail.'
The lights went off before Sage could plead.
She covered herself in her blanket. When in Zoe's domain, as the saying goes.
The nightmare she had was quite predictable for the events that took place.
In her dreams, she had laid in a big bed, her arms and legs spread out by golden chains. Said arms and legs were handcuffed. She wore a terrified expression, as a person does when they know they're in great danger.
Look at you.
Clara Jones—Gothel or Mom to Sage—walked in slowly.
Aww, Gothel cooed, twirling her black hair, do you expect me to save you?
Yes. Please, Sage begged.
Prevention is better than cure, Scarlett, Gothel spat. I warned you several times. I tortured you more than my heart could bear. I put you on hormone medication and tortured you more than my heart could bear, but look where you've found yourself: in the same fire I tried to keep you from.
Fire shot out of Gothel's hands.
Burn, her mother said with a twisted smile. This is the only fire your heart should ever taste.
Sage screamed in terror. Her scream echoed into the real world.
'Shh!'
Her eyes were certainly open now. This was reality. Gothel was gone.
'Too bad,' Dylan said. 'I could've kissed you.'
Look at you.
'No kissing,' Sage said, her tone like a knife. 'Absolutely not.'
'I was just joking—unless you say I can.' He winked at her.
She gave no reply.
'Alright, alright,' Dylan said, defeated. 'I was wondering if you wanted your pho—'
She lunged for the rectangular mini-universe. To her dismay, Gothel had given her a bazillion missed calls, which could only mean Sage had hit Twitter.
But that wasn't all. Sage had gotten over a zillion friend requests, half as many followers on Instagram, and many, many tags on Facebook.
'This fame is too much for me,' she said at last.
'It'll get worse,' Dylan said. 'And, um, speaking of which—'
He handed her another screen. It showed a video of her in the park.
'Dylan and I are still a red hot item?' Video Sage said in low-quality audio. 'We've been that for three months now?'
'There you have it, London,' a male voiceover announced. 'England's best romantic and nineteenth most eligible bachelor, Dylan Boris Anthony, is officially taken.'
'Why did I sound like I was asking questions?' Sage asked no one.
'—couldn't find much about the hottest lady on the internet,' the voiceover continued, 'but we know that she's Sage Esmeralda Scarlett, aged twenty-five—'
'—born 1996 to Clara Jones, lived in Miami for most of her life until she turned a few months past twenty-three, where she left the tropics of Orlando to find a career in law in cold, cold London,' Dylan said. 'She likes the color green, My Little Pony, and making men's genitals feel useless.'
'Ew. Did he really say that?' Sage asked.
'I wish,' he replied.
'There are many questions left unanswered about this affair,' Male Voiceover guy went on. 'These questions include—but aren't limited to—when did they meet and where? Why was it kept hidden? Now it has been revealed, will they be taking their relationship to the next step? Find out next time on Ambush; YouTube's most popular paparazzi channel.'
The video ended.
''I've gotten my phone. You can go now,' Sage said.
'No,' Dylan replied. 'You should've gone with me. Now we have a series of entertainment interviews tomorrow, but don't know so much about each other. We need to have that discussion right now if we don't want to get shamed on live telly.'
'I was just—forget it,' she said. 'How don't you know me? Amanda would've blabbed all about her plain Jane roommate and how unworthy I am of you.'
'Aww, you called yourself unworthy of me,' Dylan teased.
'That was clearly sarcastic,' Sage said
Dylan smiled. 'Tell me, then, everything I need to know about you.'
Her face suddenly burned. She realized that she'd never spoken to a man on such a topic before. What was there that he would need to know, anyway?
'Take it like our first meeting,' Dylan suggested when he noticed her silence.
Sage chuckled. 'We're meeting for the first time at two a.m. in your sister's bedroom. How unforgettable.'
'Whatever,' Dylan said. 'Hey. My name is Dylan. Dylan Anthony.'
'I'm Sage Scarlett. Nice to meet you for the very first time, Dylan,' Sage said.
'I…' He paused. 'Can I say whatever I want?'
'Okay.'
'I like you. And I also find you extremely attractive. But I don't want anything from you. I just want to know you.'
Sage retched. 'Know me?'
'Know might not sound right, but that's what I want to do. Get your mind out of the gutter,' he said.
'I'd like to…' She searched for a synonym. '…learn more about you too. Let's be acquainted.'
'Acquainted? Why not friends?' he asked.
'I don't befriend men,' Sage said.
'You sound like a nun,' he said offhandedly.
'Are you in or not?' she asked.
'Jesus,' Dylan muttered. 'I'm in. Sorry. I curse when I find something even the least bit suggestive. You were saying?'
'You get your head out of the gutter,' Sage said, 'or our acquaintanceship will be promptly thrown into it.'
His fingers brushed hers slightly. She understood, contemplated, then shook his hand.
'Now we're properly acquainted—' He said acquainted with terrible distaste. '—tell me what you like.'
'You go first,' Sage insisted. 'I need time to think about that.'
'I like beautiful people. And you're just so beautiful, so I like you. In a platonic way, if I must emphasize. I don't—well, given the opportunity, I would definitely sleep with you…'
He passed to see her reaction. She couldn't give him one, which was quite strange of her.
'I run off at the mouth sometimes. Don't mind me,' he said. 'It's a bad habit of mine. Please, pardon me.'
'Mine…I'm a little rude, to say the least,' Sage admitted. 'I scream when suggestive things are said or placed in front of me. I don't like it when a male touches me, so I tend to run away. And above all, I'm American. Y'all always goin' 'round sayin we rude.'
'I've met a fair share of Americans. You're the nicest I've seen so far,' Dylan said. 'Why are you here, anyway?'
Sage started to answer but heard Zoe rustle.
'Hear that?' she asked.
'Of course, my girl acquaintance,' Dylan replied in a low tone
'See you later, then,' she said.
'At least tell me your birthday, favorite color, favorite food, and favorite movie,' he whined.
'April ninth, green—clearly—I don't really like vegan food, and I don't watch much TV.' She pulled the covers over herself. 'Goodnight.'
'Let me sleep with you.' He paused. 'I mean, let's spend the night together…that is—I want to share your bed…Jesus Christ. You know what I mean.'
Sage covered her mouth and laughed a muffled laugh. 'No either way, babe.'
'I will lay my hands on you,' Dylan threatened.
'Will you really?' she asked.
'Yes, I will. Delay me a second longer,' he said.
She knew that his manly tone was for Zoe's sake, but couldn't help but worry. She decided to find out.
'No.'
He held her shoulder, then gasped. He slid his hands on it, and Sage got naturally pissed.
'Stop,' she said.
'Pardon me, pardon me,' he babbled. 'It was…out of habit, my dear. Isn't this how I usually behave when you're not wearing a bra?'
'Oh my God,' she nearly shrieked. She crossed her arms over her thinly-protected chest.
'I have to stay with you tonight now,' Dylan whispered. 'Zoe's watching us. Make her think we're doing something.'
'I don't know how!' Sage exclaimed under her breath. 'I've watched…pornography—ew, by the way—only once in my entire life to find out, but I still don't know.'
'Think of something, at least.' He paused to think. 'Or should we do it for real?'
'You're stupid,' she cursed.
'Fine. Hum really loudly, then scream when I touch you.'
'The second part's inevitable.'
With the help of that set of instructions, Sage hummed The Star-Spangled Banner as slowly and loudly as she could, and grunted each time Dylan touched the crown of her forehead. Soon, Dylan pitched in with sultry moans and inaudible dirty talk, but she got the feeling he was more legit than her
Her suspicions were confirmed when—as she drew on the last word of the second stanza—he rushed into the bathroom and didn't come out for the rest of her patriotic display.
'Let's sleep,' he said, creeping into bed with her. 'Let's sleep.'
She was shocked beyond words. How dare he have the effrontery to come back to her after what he had done?
She decided not to fight him lest he give her a lecture on the male libido.
'Qui…le vrai…merde?'
That wasn't precisely what woke her up. The door-slam did it first.
'Zoe, expergiscere!'
The next sounds were a gasp, a rustle, and the excited shriek of a teenage girl.
'Où diable avez-vous été?' Zoe growled. 'Percy Anthony!'
Sage felt Dylan stir next to her.
'Morning, mummy,' he said, half asleep.
'Why did you come here?' Zoe asked, infuriated. 'You said you would never come here even in fear of death six months ago.'
'Oh. I said that?' Dylan asked. 'Then I've changed my mind. You win, Alex, but do I really have to suck your balls?'
'Don't you dare,' Bobby-aka-Alex warned.
'I think I already have, Alex,' Dylan teased further.
Sage heard another door slam. The Space, maybe.
'How did you get in?' Zoe asked. 'I locked the door.'
'There's a spare key under your welcome mat. Mother's always been worried that either you or Bobby'll commit suicide one of these days,' Dylan explained.
'Fuck that fucking Hera!' Zoe spat.
The door to The Space slammed again.
'You can wake up now,' Dylan said.
Sage sat down properly. 'Should we run?'
'I would've said that if it wasn't a loud option. How about tiptoeing as fast as our legs can carry?' he suggested.
They tiptoed for their lives, then ran upstairs.
Sage leaped into Dylan's bed. 'Great. I can sleep.'
'Me too.'
Sage's eyes were closed, else she would've been able to predict the awkward position she was about to be forced into.
Dylan free-fell forward, but instead it landing on the bed, he fell on top of her.
She randomly thought of the night before.
'You're crazy,' she said, writing under him.
'Lord have mercy,' Dylan muttered.
'You're as hard as a rock!'
'I'm getting there.'
'You're suffocating me!'
'I certainly will.'
'Dylan you big idiot!'
'I certainly am.'
'Mmmh—ugh.'
She summoned all her strength, then pushed Dylan backward. She rose, smiling will triumph—until she looked straight ahead, behind Dylan
At the door stood a girl of at least twenty. Despite her slender build, she had the muscle to take on an army. She also had long blonde hair that was braided so that it reached her elbow, wore an all-black suit, black boots, a silver watch, and an unmistakable beard.
Her—or their—heterochromatic blue and grey eyes stared back at her brazenly as if they hadn't seen what had happened or had seen worse things.
'Sor—'
'Don't return that,' Bobby commanded.
They dropped a green dress and bra that had hung between their thumb and index fingers like soiled rags. With a spin of their boot, they were gone.
We see everything.
'Qui…le vrai…murder,' Sage cursed. 'I need some food, a bath, and a really good explanation—whether I like the last one or not.'
'There's no time,' Dylan said. 'I'm hungry. Let's pick that up first.'