Trust Page 5

  “I know,” I say. “It’s not even me. I prefer my Range Rover, but don’t tell my mom that.”

  “Jack bought you that car, right?” Zach asks.

  I nod. “Mom was always in a competition with him. She was worried that I liked him better than her.”

  “Did you?” he asks.

  “No,” I answer. “I mean, I liked being at his house better. I wanted to move in with him, but I didn’t want to hurt my mom’s feelings, you know? She always takes everything so personally. And she’s always so jealous. She was worried I would like my stepmom more than her, when my dad got married to Erin.”

  “I bet she hates you being here,” he says.

  “You don’t talk to her?”

  He shakes his head. “Not anymore. The only contact we’ve had over the years has been a few emails exchanged, always about you.”

  “Ah,” I say. “Well, she is a bit jealous. Whenever I called her, I think she wanted me to beg her to come home. She seemed upset that I actually enjoy it here.”

  “You belong here,” Zach says.

  I do.

  Being at Spy School is just the right fit for me.

  Secrets.

  After Zach and I get done eating, we head back to the house. I’m pleasantly surprised when Dylan shows up a little bit later, to hang out. I haven’t really gotten a chance to hang out or talk to him since the date-that-never-happened. I mean, he wasn’t even the one who told me that the date wasn’t happening—Tristan was. So, I guess it’ll be nice to clear the air and really see how he feels.

  “Hey, Dylan,” I say, opening the door wider so he can come inside.

  “Hey, Zara,” Dylan says, then looks behind me. “Zach.”

  “Dylan,” Zach says, then looks at me. “I’m heading to my office. You behave.”

  I roll my eyes. “I always behave.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he says.

  Zach leaves the living room and walks into his office, so Dylan and I head over to the couch to sit down.

  “I don’t think it’s you he’s worried about misbehaving,” Dylan says, as we sit down.

  “Ah, well, you’ve always been the perfect gentlemen, so I don’t know what he’s worried about,” I say.

  Dylan is from Tennessee. Most of the time I forget, because he doesn’t have an accent. He has spent most of his life all over the world on different assignments with his parents, so maybe that has something to do with it. He might be seventeen, but most of the time he acts older.

  “I haven’t really gotten to talk to you since the whole torture training thing,” Dylan says.

  “You guys have pretty much been here since it happened,” I say.

  “Yeah, but it’s easy to get lost among the guys,” he says. “They have a stronger personality than I do.”

  “That’s not true,” I say. “I always notice you.”

  Each of the guys stand out in their own way.

  “Still, some of them are louder,” he says.

  I laugh.

  He’s not wrong.

  “I still notice you, Dylan,” I say.

  His face turns a little pink at my words.

  Maybe he does have feelings for me still.

  I don’t know why this makes me feel giddy, but it does. If he didn’t like me, it would be easier to make a decision about which of the guys I really like.

  Honestly, I shouldn’t like any of them and I definitely shouldn’t date any of them. It’s just a bad idea—a really bad idea.

  “How are you?” Dylan asks. “About the whole torture training thing?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I’m okay.”

  “Seriously, Zara. You can be honest with me,” he says.

  “I guess I’m a little mad,” I say, letting out a breath. “Those days that I spent in that cell were scary.”

  “The guys in charge said you did really good.”

  “I am a good actress,” I say. “I’m a terrible liar. But when it came down to it, I was able to slip into the role of somebody else. It’s kind of scary.”

  “Why did you stop acting?” he asks. “I mean, you’re obviously good at it.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I didn’t like the attention.”

  Dylan grins. “It’s funny you say that—you’re always the center of attention on our team.”

  “That’s different,” I say. “I like attention when it comes from my friends and family. I don’t like attention when it comes from paparazzi and reporters.”

  “Because of the accident?” he asks.

  “Even before that,” I say. “I always had to share my mom with millions of fans and paparazzi. It sucked. And I think that’s part of the reason why I like getting attention from you guys.”

  “It makes sense,” he says.

  I clear my throat, wondering how I’m supposed to approach the topic of our almost date.

  Dylan, of course, notices my hesitation.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  I look at him, deciding to just be brave. “We were supposed to go out on Saturday night.”

  He nods.

  “But then Tristan said we weren’t,” I say.

  “Because of your safety,” he says.

  “I don’t think that’s it,” I say.

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “I mean, that I’m with just one of you guys all the time,” I say. “Everybody is busy, so you take shifts with the whole babysit-Zara thing. There has to be more to it than that.”

  Dylan doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, which just reaffirms my suspicion.

  “There is nothing more to it, Zara,” he says.

  But I don’t really believe him.

  I really thought our team was past lying to me. I thought that once I passed torture training I would be allowed to know all the secrets they keep from me, but I was wrong.

  “I’m really tired,” I say. It’s not true and I’m pretty sure he is going to see right through the lie. It’s only eight o’clock and I’m a bit of a night owl.

  “Zara,” he says.

  “Dylan,” I say, louder this time. “Please, just go, okay?”

  “I don’t want to leave when you’re upset with me.”

  I sigh. “I will see you tomorrow. I am always with you or with one of the guys. I just need some time to myself, okay?”

  “Okay,” he says.

  But he’s frowning and I can tell that I’ve hurt his feelings.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “It’s okay. I understand,” he says, standing up from the couch.

  I walk him to the door. He opens it and starts to walk to his car, but he turns around only a few feet from the door.

  “Do you hate me?” he asks.

  I stand in the doorway, looking at him.

  It’s not his fault. It’s all the guys—not just him.

  “I could never hate you,” I say, walking over to him. I wrap my arms around him, giving him a hug.

  He hugs me back, tightly.

  I hate that I’ve hurt his feelings, but at the same time, I can’t allow the guys to keep treating me like this—like I am the weak link in our team.

  “I’m sorry,” Dylan says, as we pull back.

  “For what?” I ask.

  “For hurting your feelings.”

  “I am the one who hurt your feelings,” I say.

  “You might be a good actress, but I see the real you,” he says. “You can’t hide how you’re feeling from me. And I didn’t mean to hurt you. For that, I am sorry.”

  “I just... I thought things were going to be different after I passed torture training,” I say. “But you guys are still keeping secrets from me.”

  He sighs. “I know.”

  “We’re supposed to be a team.”

  “I know,” he says.

  “But you guys aren’t treating me like your equal,” I say. “You’re treating me like I’m weak.”

  “That’s not true.”

 
; “Is it because I’m a girl?” I ask.

  “The fact that you’re a girl does change things, but not in the reason you think,” he says.

  That answer isn’t frustrating at all.

  “I’m going to go now,” Dylan says. “Are you going to be okay?”

  I nod. I am going to be okay. I’m used to being alone. I just didn’t think I’d have to be alone when it came to the guys.

  I watch Dylan get into the SUV and drive away. I stand outside for a few more minutes. I’m the one who asked him to leave. I don’t have a right to be mad that he actually left.

  When the cold starts getting to me, I head inside. I stick my head in Zach’s office to let him know that Dylan left, and then go upstairs to my room. I’m not sure who I am madder at right now—the guys or myself.

  Maybe I am being silly. The guys are allowed to have their secrets. I mean, don’t I have my own secret that I haven’t told them? One that I have problems admitting even to myself—about how I feel about them.

  Dylan and Tristan probably canceled our date because they figured out what I can’t seem to—that it’s a bad idea to date somebody on the team. That if things went bad between us it would make things awkward. And things would eventually go bad if I were dating two of them, because I’d eventually have to choose one. But how can I choose just one of them when they’re both so amazing—they’re all so amazing. All five of them.

  Oh, gosh.

  I have a crush on five guys—five amazing guys. How am I supposed to choose one of them?

  I can’t.

  If I choose one of them, I will lose them all.

  So, I’ll just be friends with them all.

  I will keep my feelings a secret. I will keep being friends with them. And when the day comes, I will be able to choose just one of them.

  At least, I hope so.

  I’m so screwed.

  Thursday, October 4

  Something different.

  This morning, Cam is picking me up for school. Zach is doing something in his office—I’m not sure what, but I’m fairly certain he’s been in there all night. That man works harder than anybody I know, which says a lot, considering who my family is.

  I put on my school uniform, which I’ve grown used to. It’s not as bad as I once thought. Yeah, all of us are forced to wear the same clothes, but we all put our own twist on it. Plus, I don’t have to think about what I want to wear for the day.

  My hair is pulled into a ponytail on top of my head with a bright pink ribbon in it, just because I don’t feel like having my hair down today. Also, the guys seem to be fascinated when I wear my hair up, which I find amusing.

  It’s going to be my first day back at school since I completed torture training. I have this awful feeling that literally everybody in the school has heard that I passed, which scares me a little bit. I remember the guys told me that only one girl has ever passed torture training, and that most girls don’t sign up in the first place. I’m just glad it’s over.

  As I come down the stairs, I hear a knock on the front door.

  Cam’s right on time.

  That is one thing I love about my team—they’re always on time. Being late is my biggest pet peeve in life. And I know that the guys and I had this instant connection and became friends so quickly, but the more I get to know them, the more I realize we are perfect together.

  We’re going to conquer the world someday.

  “Hey,” I say, as I open the door.

  “Hey,” Cam says, tilting his head to the side. “There is something different about you today.”

  I laugh.

  Boys.

  “My hair is up,” I say, pointing at my hair.

  “Ah,” he says. “It’s cute. I like it like that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You ready?”

  I nod, grabbing my jacket from a hook by the door.

  “I’m leaving for school!” I yell at Zach.

  A few seconds later, his office door opens. “Have a good day.”

  He looks rough. His hair is a mess, there are bags under his eyes, and he’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. He looks... like he hasn’t slept. Which he hasn’t.

  “You, too,” I say

  He retreats inside and I look over at Cam.

  “Has he been in there all night?” he asks.

  “Yep,” I say, putting on my jacket as we walk out the front door.

  It’s pretty cold today—the high is in the 30’s, or around 1 degree Celsius. I know that since I’m in another country I should probably try to learn Celsius, but my American heart will always prefer Fahrenheit.

  I don’t particularly like the cold, but I am excited, because for the first time in my life, I get to wear leggings, Ugg boots, and a scarf. And I don’t even care if the boots make me basic, I’ve been waiting for this moment forever. In LA, I usually end up wearing flip flops all winter long.

  When we get to the SUV, Cam opens the passenger side door for me and I get in. The heated seat is turned on, and the car is nice and warm. Still, I am shivering from the short time being outside.

  Cam gets in the driver’s side and smiles at me.

  “You okay over there, Miss Malibu?” he asks.

  I stick my tongue out at him. “I thought British people were supposed to be nice.”

  “Nah, that’s Canadians,” Cam says. “Besides, my team is mostly American, which means I’m practically American, now. I barely have a British accent anymore.”

  “You still have an accent,” I say.

  “You’re the one with an accent,” he says.

  “I like your accent,” I say.

  “I like yours better,” he says, as we take off towards the school.

  “I don’t feel like I have an accent.”

  “Neither do I.”

  I suppose that makes sense. But I feel like I have a normal ‘American’ accent, which doesn’t really make sense, because people from different parts of America have different accents. I just happen to have the same accent as people in movies because I live near Hollywood.

  “How was training last night?” he asks.

  “Good,” I answer. “I didn’t completely suck. I still have a lot of work to be as good as you guys, but I’ll get there. I’m working as hard as I can.”

  “That’s great,” he says. “Dylan said he was coming over last night.”

  I swallow hard thinking about that.

  “Yeah, he did,” I say, trying to keep my voice normal. But Cam, being Cam, notices the difference in my tone.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I say, shaking my head.

  There is no way that I am going to discuss this with Cam.

  He pulls the SUV into a parking lot at the school, but he doesn’t turn the car off.

  “Zara, talk to me,” he says.

  I sigh, knowing that he’s not going to let this go easily.

  “Dylan and I had a bit of a disagreement, I guess,” I say. “But it’s between him and me and I don’t want to talk to you about it, okay?”

  “I’m your team leader,” Cam says. “If you can’t talk about it with me, who can you talk about it with?”

  “With Dylan,” I say. “It was a stupid argument anyway. And I will talk to him when I’m ready.”

  “You know I’ll just ask him,” he says.

  “Why can’t I just have an argument with him and it be private?” I ask. “Why do you have to know everything?”

  “Because we’re a team. We share everything and we don’t keep secrets. That is what makes this whole thing work.”

  Out of everything he could’ve said, he said that...

  “Really?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “And you guys aren’t keeping any secrets from me? Like, not even one secret?”

  He closes his mouth, now saying nothing.

  “Exactly,” I say. “You don’t need to know everything, Cam.”

  “I’ll let you have this round,” he sa
ys.

  Cam letting me win an argument?

  “Can I get this in writing?” I ask.

  “What?”

  “Me winning a fight against you,” I say. “Because this seems like a rare moment.”

  He shakes his head at me. “It’s good thing you’re pretty.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because if one of the guys said something like that to me, I’d fight them,” he says.

  “I’d say that I should have equal treatment, but you and I both know that I have a zero percent chance of winning a fight against you,” I say. “But give me a few years, then bring it on.”

  He grins at me.

  “Should we head in?” I ask.

  “Actually, before we go on, I just want to make sure you’re doing okay,” he says.

  I nod. “I am. What happened really messed with my head, but I am better.”

  “Good,” he says. “And I know that your fight with Dylan is private, but are you okay with whatever happened between you?”

  “I hate that we fought. Like, I want to find him and apologize. But other than that, yeah,” I say. “I might have overreacted a little bit. Can I just blame it on hormones?”

  “You should definitely apologize,” he says. “And I’ll make sure he apologizes, too. The reason our team works so well together is we don’t have drama. When we fight, we work things out quickly. So, make sure you do.”

  “I will,” I say.

  My chest hurts a little and I feel even guiltier.

  I shouldn’t have fought with him. I know that. And I plan on apologizing as soon as I see him.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “Don’t apologize to me,” he says.

  I nod.

  “There is one more thing,” he says.

  I can hear the hesitation in his voice, which scares me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I’m sure you suspect, but today might be a little bit crazy,” he says. “I mean, you passed torture training, which is kind of a huge deal. I mean, it would be a big deal even if you were a guy. But you’re a girl, which makes it even more rare. So, people are probably going to be staring a lot.”

  “Oh,” I say.

  “I know you don’t like attention, so I thought I should warn you,” Cam says. “And if I could protect you from this, I would, but I can’t.”