Trust Page 7

“They are protective of you,” he says.

  I grin. “So are you.”

  “You’re just so... short,” he says. “And little. And right now, you kind of do need protection. It will definitely be hard for all of us to change our mindset. But once you prove yourself, there is no way they wouldn’t let you.”

  “I can’t argue with you on that,” I say. “What do you think I would have to do to prove myself? Take Cam on in a fight?”

  He laughs. “That would do it. But even I have problems taking him on, so don’t get your hopes up for that one.”

  Stefan pulls the SUV into a parking spot at the school and we walk inside together. People in the dining hall are still staring, but it’s not as bad as it was yesterday. I guess the novelty has kind of worn off and things are almost back to normal.

  “You good?” Stefan asks, as we carry our food to the table with the other guys.

  “Yeah,” I answer. “I actually am.”

  Somehow, I am going to survive Spy School.

  The guys at the table are having what looks like a very heated discussion.

  “Zara, settle this for us,” Tristan says, as I sit down.

  “What?” I ask warily.

  “Who is the better villain?” Dylan asks. “Darth Vadar or Thanos.”

  “Easy. Thanos,” I answer.

  “Thank you,” Tristan says.

  “Darth Vadar destroyed an entire planet,” Dylan argues.

  “Thanos killed half the universe,” I say. “Besides, Darth Vadar had a sort of redemption in the end. Plus, the three prequel movies they did kind of makes me have a soft spot for Vadar, you know?”

  “Dang it, she’s right,” Dylan says.

  “It’s a stupid argument anyway,” Cam says. “You guys are such nerds.”

  I share a grin with Dylan.

  I like that Dylan and Tristan have these kinds of arguments. I think it’s cute.

  “You have to take my side sometime,” Dylan says.

  “I will, if you take the right side,” I say, sticking my tongue out at him.

  “Who is better, Five Seconds of Summer or One Direction?” he asks.

  “Is that even a question?” I ask, “Five Seconds of Summer, obviously.”

  “Yes,” he says, holding up his hand so I can high five him.

  I laugh.

  I didn’t see Dylan being a 5SOS fan, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

  I’m glad that Dylan doesn’t seem mad at me over the stupid fight we had the other day. I know we will eventually have to talk about it, but right now it’s enough to know he isn’t upset with me.

  “What would you have done if I’d said One Direction?” I ask.

  “I would’ve had to cease our friendship immediately,” he answers.

  “Yikes,” I say. “Glad I answered right, then.”

  “Me, too,” he says.

  I look at Tristan. “Let me guess, you’re a One Direction fan.”

  “Nah, I don’t like boy bands,” he says.

  “He has every BTS album ever,” Austin says. “Don’t let him fool you.”

  “Dude, that was supposed to be between us,” Tristan says, then looks at me. “I went through a Kpop phase when I was thirteen, and I might still have some BTS on my playlist. They’re good songs.”

  “Hey, I’m not judging. I love BTS,” I say.

  “Oh, no,” Cam says. “Not you, too. Don’t encourage them, Zara. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “It’s way too much fun to mess with you,” I tell Cam.

  “You have corrupted her,” Cam says to Tristan.

  Tristan just shrugs at him.

  The warning bell goes off, letting us know we have five minutes before we have to get to class. We all get up and toss our trash before heading to Mr. Brown’s class. I thought that his class would be my favorite, but it’s hard to pick a ‘favorite’ class here. I kind of like them all. Especially my computer hacking class. Maybe I’m biased though, because Tristan hacked the computers and sends me funny PM’s through the entire class.

  As we walk to class, the guys still make a protective circle around me. I noticed it yesterday and thought it was just them trying to protect me from the stares, but I’m beginning to think it’s just something they do with me.

  I wonder if Cam was right yesterday, when he said that having the five guys around me keeps other teams from approaching me. I hope the guys know that I am one hundred percent loyal to them. There is no way I would ever switch teams—not after all we’ve been through.

  Plus—everybody else was mean to me when I first came to school here. The boys were the only ones who talked to me. If the others wanted me on their team, they should’ve figured that out a long time ago. Though, honestly, I’m glad they didn’t, because I’m so happy with my boys. Life wouldn’t be the same without them.

  Mukbang.

  The best part about staying back with Tristan, besides the obvious of getting alone time with Tristan, is the junk food.

  This boy has a serious junk food addiction, and I am the one to reap the benefits of this addiction.

  I was right about just watching Tristan work. But it’s not so bad. I’m currently eating some sour gummy worms, watching Tristan do something on the computer—I’m not sure what he’s doing, because he’s moving so fast through the screens.

  “Worm me,” he says.

  I giggle and put a gummy worm in his mouth.

  We’ve been at this for the past hour—not eating gummy worms, but just hanging out. Well, me hanging out, him working. The guys have all been silent. I know they can’t exactly take the time to check in with me, but it makes me nervous. I know that this case is a little dangerous and I want check-in’s every five minutes to be certain that everybody is okay.

  “They’re fine,” Tristan says.

  I look up and see him watching me. “I know. I just worry.”

  He reaches over and squeezes my hand. It’s such a small gesture, but it warms my heart. Then he puts his hands back on the keyboard, typing like a madman.

  I don’t think I’ve seen anyone’s hands move so fast before.

  “I got it,” he says.

  I look up at his screen.

  “I’m going to send this to the guys,” he says.

  Wow. It’s honestly crazy how fast Tristan works. I think he works even faster since we got back from Tokyo. He learned a lot from that Brett guy.

  Tristan spins his chair around, looking directly at me.

  “I’m starving,” he says.

  “You’ve been eating all night,” I say, nodding to the empty packages of chips and candy.

  “I mean real food,” he says. “Want to go grab some dinner?”

  “Sure,” I say. “Are you certain the guys won’t need you to do anything more here?”

  “Yep,” he says.

  “Okay, then,” I say, standing up. “Let’s go.”

  I grab my jacket as we walk out the door and notice Tristan is just wearing a hoodie.

  “Won’t you be cold?” I ask.

  “Nah,” he says.

  He opens the door for me on the SUV, which I’ve just come to expect at this point, but it’s still sweet, and then we leave for town.

  “You know, this is why I love you,” he says.

  “Why?” I ask, trying not to hyperventilate over the fact that he said love. I know he means best friend kind of love, but still...

  “Because you’ll go get food with me at ten o’clock at night with no questions asked,” he says. “Even though I know you’re not hungry.”

  “I ate so many gummy worms, I feel like I’m going to vomit,” I say.

  He laughs. “Not in the car.”

  “I never knew teenaged boys ate so much food,” I say.

  “Didn’t your brother eat a lot?”

  “Never junk food,” I say. “He was in training for pro baseball. He’d only eat high protein stuff and was on a super strict diet. He rarely had cheat days. Even on vacat
ion he’d still eat clean. It was crazy.”

  “I guess that’s why he was drafted at eighteen,” Tristan says. “I heard his team has a good chance of going to the World Series.”

  “They do,” I say. “I’m sad I’m not there to go to the games and support him. And I wasn’t there for my sister’s third birthday party, either.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “You miss them a lot?”

  I nod. “So much. But at the same time, if I had the option to go home, I wouldn’t take it. I mean, I’d rather be here with you guys. And Zach. I just started to get to know him. Besides, you guys have started to become my family.”

  “Strange how that happens,” he says. “My parents weren’t around all that much when I was a kid, though. So, I never knew what a family was supposed to feel like.”

  “Neither were my parents,” I say. “Before my parents’ divorce, Mom was always shooting movies and Dad was traveling with baseball. After their divorce, I think it was even worse.”

  “That had to be rough,” he says.

  “The worst part was reading about their divorce online,” I say.

  “Weren’t you six when your parents got divorced?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yeah, but my parents always felt guilty for leaving Jason and me home so much that they tried to buy our love. I think they bought me a cell phone when I was five. Or maybe four, I’m not sure. And they bought me a laptop the day they told me that they were getting a divorce.”

  “What do you even do with a phone when you’re five?” he asks.

  “Play games,” I say. “Duh.”

  He laughs.

  “Jason and I would text each other, too.”

  “You could text at five? I don’t even think I could read very much at that age,” he says.

  “I started learning how to read early,” I say. “I was always trying to read books, so my nanny started teaching me how to.”

  “You know, the only difference between my parents and yours is that my parents called my nanny a tutor instead. My tutor lived in my house and basically watched me while me parents were gone, and he also trained me. Every single day I was learning something.”

  “How often did you see your parents?”

  “They longest that they were ever gone was fifteen months,” he says. “But usually they’d be gone about six months and home a few weeks before they’d leave again.”

  “That sucks,” I say, thinking he definitely had it worse than me.

  Tristan pulls the SUV into the parking lot of the diner I went to with Zach the other day.

  “They have the best shakes here,” I say.

  “I know,” he says.

  I groan. “Okay, I know I shouldn’t, but I’m totally getting a shake. But if I get chubby, it’s completely your fault.”

  He laughs. “My dream in life is to get paid to eat.”

  “There are people who get paid to do that,” I say, as we walk inside.

  “Are you kidding?” he asks.

  The hostess sets us at a table with our menus and leaves.

  “I’m dead serious,” I say. “There is this internet sensation called a Mukbang. It started in South Korea. There would be these super attractive, skinny people eating as much as they possibly can in front of a camera. It would be live and people would tip them to eat things.”

  “That’s amazing,” he says.

  “It’s popular in America now, too,” I say. “Everybody on YouTube is doing it.”

  “Too bad we’re not allowed to show our faces on social media,” he says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “I mean, when we graduate, Spy School basically goes in and digitally erases our face from online,” he says. “We’re not supposed to post anything as ourselves online. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of personas that we will have social media for, but we can’t have anything that people can trace back to us.”

  “Wait, so I won’t be able to go by Zara anymore?”

  “Zara, yeah. But you’ll have to have a new last name,” he says. “It’s to protect you and your family. We work with some pretty dangerous people.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  The waitress comes and Tristan orders a double cheese burger, extra fries, and a huge shake. I order a small shake.

  While we’re waiting on Tristan’s food to come, my phone starts vibrating, so I pull it out of my pocket.

  “It’s Cam,” I say to Tristan, before answering my phone. “Cam, hey.”

  “Where are you and why isn’t Tristan answering his phone?”

  Cam sounds angry.

  No. He’s past angry. He sounds like he’s about to murder somebody.

  “Tristan, did Cam call you?”

  Tristan feels his pockets. “Shoot, I left my phone at your house.”

  “He doesn’t have his phone,” I say. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m at your house and you and Tristan aren’t here,” he says. “You’re supposed to be here.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “We came to get some food. We’re hungry... well, Tristan is hungry. I’m just here for the shake.”

  I take a drink of my chocolate shake.

  So good.

  “Get back as quickly as you can,” Cam says. “And tell Tristan he’s in trouble.”

  The call abruptly comes to an end.

  “Yikes,” I say, looking at Tristan. “You’re so in trouble.”

  “Why am I in trouble?” he asks.

  “Because Cam is at my house and I guess it scared him that we weren’t there,” I say.

  “Oh,” he says. “Yeah, we have this rule that we’re supposed to make sure at least one other person on our team knows where we are at all times. I was just distracted and forgot to text somebody.”

  “From somebody who knows what it’s like to be on the other side of Cam’s wrath, good luck,” I say.

  He’s going to need it.

  Actually, I might need it, too.

  Best talk ever.

  Not wanting to anger Cam even more, Tristan rushes through his meal and drives us home within five minutes of getting Cam’s phone call. Tristan walks right into the house, but I wait outside for a second, trying to get up the courage to go in. Cam is kind of scary sometimes, and I get the feeling he’s going to be extra tonight because we scared him so much.

  I didn’t mean to scare him. I didn’t actually know about the rule they have, so he can’t be too mad, right?

  I take a deep breath and walk inside.

  There is no yelling.

  That’s a good sign.

  “Are you serious?” I hear Tristan ask Cam as I walk into Zach’s office.

  Zach is gone tonight. He’s supposed to be back sometime tomorrow afternoon. Until then, I guess one of the guys is staying here.

  “Hey,” I say.

  Cam looks over at me, then back at Tristan. “You’re lucky I didn’t make it two weeks.”

  “You’re right,” Tristan says. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  Cam nods, satisfied with Tristan’s response.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “For breaking the rules, Tristan has to do everybody’s laundry for a week,” Cam says.

  “Not mine,” I say.

  Because there is no way I’m letting Tristan wash my underwear. No, thank you.

  “All the guys,” Cam clarifies.

  “Nice,” I say. “Good luck, Tristan.”

  “Zara, I need to talk to you,” Cam says, then turns to Tristan. “You’ll stay in here and finish what Dylan sent you.”

  It’s not a question to either of us, though we know better than to question Cam

  He’s in charge for a reason. And he’s a good leader, a great one in fact, but sometimes he’s a little scary, which probably only adds to the fact that he’s perfect for the job as leader of our team.

  I follow Cam out of Zach’s office and into the living room.

  “Sit down,” he says, motioning to the
couch.

  I want to argue, but now isn’t the time.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I ask.

  “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?” he asks. “When you weren’t here, and Tristan wasn’t answering his phone, I thought the worst.”

  As Cam talks, he paces back and forth in front of the couch and I just watch him, not knowing what to do.

  “Now that I know the rule, I’ll make sure you know,” I say.

  “Every time?” he asks.

  “Every single time,” I say.

  He takes a seat beside me and I turn so that I am facing him.

  “The guys and I have been at this for a long time,” he says. “When we first formed our team, I was never worried about where they’d be running off to because I knew they could protect themselves.”

  “Then why did you make the rule about always telling somebody else on the team where you are?” I ask.

  “We made that after you came here,” he says. “It was more for you than for us.”

  “Oh,” I say, looking down at my hands. “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be flattered that you care so much, or offended that you see me as weak. But how can I be offended when I am weak. I’ve always known that. It’s why I think you guys deserve better than having somebody like me on your team.”

  “Zara, no. None of us feel that way,” he says. “When we voted, it was unanimous. We all knew that we’d have to make sacrifices, but we knew it’d be worth it in the long run.”

  “But you guys didn’t even know me then,” I say. “How could you possibly have known?”

  Cam reaches over and grabs my hands, so I look up at him.

  “I don’t know how you can’t see it,” he says, his voice low now. Lower than I’ve ever heard it before. “But you are incredible. You have this spark that I can’t explain, but it draws people to you, like a magnet. I don’t know why it’s taken so long for the other kids at school to notice, but they’ve noticed. They’re all kicking themselves for being so rude to you the first week you were at the school.”

  I shake my head. “Cam, no. You only think that because you’re my friend... my teammate. You have to say nice things to me.”

  “Did you not hear any of what I just said to Tristan? Or do you not hear how all the guys on the team fight? Trust me, none of us are forced to say nice things to each other.”