Natalie
I sneak out of Noah's room in the early morning. He has already headed out for his run, and my naked feet are pitter-pattering down the stairs.
Somehow, I find my way into the large kitchen. I'm wearing some of the new clothes Noah bought for me—a t-shirt with a cat playing guitar and a pair of leggings. It's basic but comfortable.
I search the cabinets for a coffee cup, feeling out of place since this is my first morning at the mansion. Noah told me to make myself at home before he left for his run. So I'm trying to ignore the awkwardness of rummaging through his fridge.
And damn, the jock boy got some serious buffet goodies inside his fridge!
There are chocolate puddings, yogurt, cheese, and juices of different fruit and flavors. Leftover pancakes and a whole sea of sandwiches.
Smiling, I carry everything I deem tasty to the kitchen table. Cynthia chooses that moment to waltz into the kitchen. She is wearing a morning gown, and her hair is tucked into a towel on her head.
"Good—"
"Are you going to eat all of that?" Cynthia interrupts me, sneering at the amount of food on the table. "Shouldn't you be thinking about your figure more? You have a stomach pouch."
I'm astounded by her words. I don't know Cynthia, and she is already being rude to me?
And even though I shouldn't take her comment to heart, I'm already sucking in my belly fat. I even arch my back and keep myself from sitting like a potato sack, hoping to come off as distinguished.
"Good morning to you too," I say, taking a big bite from one of the cheesy sandwiches I opened. It tastes like heaven. "Did you sleep well?"
Cynthia ignores my question. She is pouring coffee into a cup, and her back is turned toward me. "You shouldn't be hanging out with Noah. He has midterm exams coming up, and you're a distraction."
I lift an eyebrow at her. "Well, if Noah needs help to study for them, I'm the perfect candidate to hang around. My grades are top-notch."
Cynthia snorts. "Please, you? Hard to believe."
She shakes her head at me, laughing as if I've said something funny. It makes my stomach sink like lead. Why is Cynthia so mean?
"Good morning, ladies," my dad walks into the kitchen wearing a tired smile—finally a friendly face. "How are you this lovely morning?"
"Tired," I reply.
My dad turns to me, but Cynthia has to steal the limelight by throwing her arms around him. I watch the two of them kiss and gaze into each other's eyes before Cynthia leans back.
"I've missed you," Cynthia says.
I roll my eyes. It's been like what, five minutes since Cynthia left my dad in the bedroom? Give me a break.
I stand from the table. "I better get going if I want to make it to school in time. Since I don't have a car—"
Cynthia slaps me, and I take a step back, shocked. My eyes are round, and I turn to my dad, expecting him to say something. But he is facing the other way, pretending Cynthia just didn't hit me.
"Don't talk like you expect your dad to buy you a new car just because you're lazy. You were born with legs, right?"
I'm pressing my fingers to my chin. It's stinging. "Yeah, but I was just making a point."
"Of you being spoiled?" Cynthia asks. "You're lucky enough to live with us at the mansion. You're a rent-free grownup—it doesn't get any better than that. So don't mention not having a car."
My lips part. Cynthia looks smug, but that's not why I'm seething inside my skin. My dad is ignoring what is going on. He is reading the news magazine while sitting at the table!
Unbelievable.
I swallow thickly and turn on my heel. I'm going to be late for class if I don't get going.
"Are you just going to run from the conversation, Natalie?" Cynthia shouts behind my back. "Silence says more than a thousand words!"
My irritation grows, but I know better than to fight with my future stepmother.
The wedding is coming up this weekend, and since my dad has made his choice—Cynthia's opinion is worth more than mine. I can't make the woman into my enemy.
Not if I want to keep my dad around, which I do. I've already lost one parent, and I can't lose my other one. It would tear me apart.
I head upstairs to find my phone and rip the plastic off the new Louis Vuitton bag Noah bought me. It's stylish, small, black and fits the other tight clothes I'm wearing.
I run down the stairs and smile at the warm weather outside. I feel like a new woman wearing my new clothes. The only bad thing is that I will have to walk quite the distance to school.
The sun is radiant, prompting me to squint. Cars are driving past the mansion, and I walk briskly, pausing when I see Noah running toward me. His skin is slick with sweat, and he definitely needs a shower.
"Good morning, stranger."
I meet his smile. "Good morning."
"How are you this morning?"
Since Noah's face is enough to make me forget Cynthia, I decided not to start a family feud today. "I'm fine actually—a gentleman bought me new clothes yesterday. I'm a new morning today."
"A gentleman, huh?"
Noah jogs up to stand in front of me. His grey t-shirt sticks to him like a second skin, and I laugh when he tries to hug me.
"No hugs for you. I don't have time to shower." I press my palm against Noah's sweaty t-shirt, feeling his carved chest.
He pouts at me. "But I want a hug."
"Not today, mister."
Noah sighs. "Fine... And by the way, are you walking to school?"
"I don't have a car."
"But you have a license?"
"Yes."
Noah leans away from me, fishing inside his pocket. Eventually, he hands me a car key. I repeatedly blink at the brand written over it; it says "Bugatti."
"Uh..." I nervously wet my lips. "Are you sure I should drive your expensive supercar?"
"I trust you," Noah suddenly crouches down to face me at eye level. His thumb touches my cheek—the place where Cynthia slapped me. "Where did that come from? You didn't have a bruise this morning..."
Panic hits me since I can't tell Noah what his mother did. I don't want to start a family feud, and it's not like anyone would pick my side.
"I fell when I was heading down the stairs," I tell him quickly, adding. "I'm pretty clumsy, actually. Are you sure you trust me to drive your car? Bugattis don't grow on trees."
My words earn me a smile. "Your happiness is more important than any money in the world, but please don't crash my car. I don't want you getting yourself injured. Take it easy on the road."
"I will try."
"Good."
Noah taps me on the shoulder and walks past me. I catch a whiff of his cologne. He smells good, like warm pears and cinnamon. His scent could probably be branded as "handsome jock" and be sold as a bottle—his fan club would pay millions.
"Oh, and—" Noah turns around. "Do you want to meet me at the library later? You and Linnea usually hang out there, right?"
My heart claps in my chest. "We do, but wouldn't it be weird for you to hang out with us?"
His smile is sheepish. Adorable. Sexy. I want to tackle him to the ground and kiss his sweaty jock body. Especially when he palms his neck as if he is nervous. It makes the muscles in his arm stand on display.
"I could need some help with a few of my subjects."
I lift an eyebrow. "Didn't you say your grades were good?"
"Yeah, but I'm still anxious about all the upcoming exams, and you're a smart girl. I don't see the harm in studying with you."
I laugh. "Fine, you're welcome on board the study train, but you should be prepared to answer questions. Linnea will hit you with them."
"Isn't she seeing Johan since the party?"
"Yes, but she is an opportunist and knows that your fan club will pay for inside information about you."
Noah shudders. "Okay, I think that I've changed my mind..."
A snort erupts from my nose, and I smile so that my cheeks are straining and hurting. "You will be fine, pretty boy! Come and hang out with us; it will be fun. I promise."
"Hm, if Natalie Gracen says something is going to be fun, is it wise to trust her? People claim she has a stick up in her ass…"
I don't get offended by his words. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest to speak to him in a calm tone. "Hey, I can be pretty chill sometimes."
"True," Noah smiles. "I will be at the library. See you later!"
I wave him goodbye, and even though this morning started with a disaster, I'm feeling better.
Maybe Cynthia had a bad day? I shouldn't tell Noah about what she did—it's not severe enough for them to fight over me. Their mother and son relationship is more important.
I can live with the bruise.