I walk quietly on the way back home while soft music hum into my ears. Yesterday Elie and I were just strolling around the school when I found the practice area.
It looked amazing, girls and boys practiced different sports. I never been able to be part of such activities. But there's still one thing that makes my life easier, Sketching. It keeps me at rest and I feel better when I'm throwing my thoughts out and just remember how to roll my pencil.
Some people would find it funny but for me, it's the only thing I can say I love. It's a part of me.
It's been several days since my last encounter with that wicked fox. I knew it even before I saw him. Brandon Foster is crazy. Sick person who should be kept far away humans.
Everyday the same black revuelto follows me to the school and back home. I don't acknowledge him, because I know no good would come out of it. Nothing worthy.
My phone chemed with text and knowing there's only one person who could be it I opened the chat,
Elie: You're coming to the party with me?
Me: What party?
Elie: Jordan's birthday party! Though he celebrates his birthday every week. You coming?
Party I've never been to one. And it's not like I'm allowed to go. And if my dad finds out, it would be worse. I text her and then walk inside the mansion. Hearing the humming of car from behind.
What does he wants from me?
Before this we've never seen each other so I don't understand the reason behind his rude behaviour. But then again he's rude with ninety nine percent of the population.
Mr. Joie greeted me on my way upstairs, and informed me about my dad—father's arrival from business trip, A part of me doesn't want to go inside at all. I rather stand here all night than to go in and greet him. But I force myself to knock on his study door.
He pointed me to sit and continued on his phone call, "Sure, I assume your son will also be present for the meeting."
He hang up after a while and then smile at me. I shift. "Mr. Joie mentioned that you wished to speak with me. Is there something specific you'd like to discuss?"
"Absolutely," he said, pausing for a moment. "Are you familiar with Michiel Foster?"
I nodded.
"Tomorrow we're meeting their family."
"What? But why?"
His jaw twitches as he blows out a stream of smoke from his cigarette, the acrid scent lingering in the air. I hold my breath until the smoke dissipates. "Did I give you permission to question me?" His tone is commanding, making it clear that attending the meeting is not a choice but a directive. "You will be there and follow my lead. Understood?"
Dinner with Foster family? Does that mean Brandon will be there too? God why? I don't want to meet him.
I hope tomorrow's dinner isn't anything serious or trivial—just a casual evening. My mind was racing so much that I couldn't sleep, and when I finally did, it was time to wake up already.
The ticking in my head persisted, a relentless reminder of the puzzle pieces refusing to fit together. How could this sudden meeting make sense? For years, I believed my father harbored a deep disdain for the Foster family, and vice versa.
It explained why he adamantly opposed sending me to their school.
Yet here I am, not just attending their school for a month but also sitting down to dinner with them? It felt like the rules of my reality were shifting, leaving me grasping at straws for understanding.
Mrs. Foster smiled warmly welcoming us into their house, also the little girl. "Hello!"
"Hi, nice to meet you Bella."
Her pale blue shined brightly, "You look beautiful." And yes that did shake my heart because I've never been called that before.
As she led me into the dining area, my smile faltered instantly. There was no real reason for my surprise, yet I had secretly hoped he would skip the dinner.
As he looked up from his phone, the clench of his jaw screamed how much he had wished for the same.
"Bella don't run." Mrs.Foster said from behind and I was snapped out of my thoughts. My father eyed me, message was clear.
If you mess up you're dead.
I settled into the chair next to Brandon, noticing the displeasure in his eyes as they flicked away from my face, trailing down to the hem of my midthigh dress and all the way to my pink heels. A wave of heat followed his gaze, and I furrowed my brow before sinking into the chair.
The food had been served, but I could barely eat anything due to the heavy tension that lingered in the air, especially between Brandon and me.
"Ada, do you have favourites?" Bella asked suddenly, lighting up the tension.
"Yes. Everyone has one." Her brow frown, "Why am I wrong?"
"What's your favourite song?"
"Not specific, but maybe jazz."
Her lips form a O but I'm not sure if she understood that for not. Cute.
"You like pink?"
I nodded and she beamed, "See! I told you papa girls like pink more." She pointed out.
Mr. Foster's face soften, "Yes princess but your dad is not a girl. And I cannot drive a pink car or wear pink clothes."
"Why? I want a pink car."
"I'll get you one, cool?"
"Ya!" She smiled at me. "I want hair tie like yours. Can you teach me?"
"Of course, how about after dinner?"
After that Bella had been the only person chatting, showing a particular interest in talking to me. We had discussed her favorite food, color, and other topics, all aimed at distracting myself from overthinking. All the while all the men remained silent.
However, everything went flying out of the window when Brandon opened his mouth, "So what exactly this so-called meeting is about? I'm sure not for this sweet talks and dinner."
Bella was sent to her room soon as she finished her dinner and the atmosphere dropped few more degrees.
I didn't actually know what was going on between the two fathers, but a sense of unease hung heavy in the air. Brandon seemed to share my apprehension; the more time passed, the tighter his jaw clenched.
"Brandon," Mr. Foster began, his gaze fixed on his son, "as far as I know, you're not into any relationship with anyone."
"So what?" Brandon's response was curt.
His eyes then shifting to me. "What about you, Ada? Are you seeing someone?"
I could feel Brandon's intense stare on my face, and I didn't like where this conversation was heading. "Definitely not," my father replied immediately.
"Let her answer Mr.Elord."
"Sure, Ada." my father looked at me. His face says it all. I must follow his lead otherwise...
"No. I'm not dating anyone." I answered.
"Good," Mr. Foster remarked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
"What the hell is good about that?" The person next to me asked, annoyance and anger were palpable with each word.
I swallowed hard, trying to calm the rising tension, but it only seemed to tighten the knot in my chest. The lack of oxygen made the throbbing in my head and chest intensify.
"We made a deal, an alliance between our two families," My father announced.
The drumming inside my head fastened. No. It can't be what I'm thinking it is.
No way.
"Conjugal alliance. Between you and Ada."