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I drag myself out of bed and get ready for school. I don’t love the uniform, but it is nice not having to worry about what I’ll wear each day. Knowing my school, it would be a full-on fashion show with those girls. Even in the uniform, they all still have a way of adding to it.
My plan to keep my head down and just attend school seems to have backfired on me. But I’m not going to let a few catty girls stop me from experiencing life. Their antics are child's play compared to what Mona and I went through with our own fatherand brother. Still, it doesn’t soothe the burn of feeling like you never fit in.
Once I accept that I'm not getting my hair under control, I grab my bag and head for the kitchen.
“Mona, can you braid my—” I trail off when I see Nikolai standing in the kitchen. His hair is wet, making me think he just got out of the shower.
“Your hair?”
“I thought Mona was here.” Did they go back to the estate?
“Think they’re still in bed.” Nikolai rounds the kitchen island, coming toward me. His hands go to my hips.
“You’re always manhandling me,” I say as he turns me around.
“I thought you’d rather me do it than order you to turn around.” I roll my eyes, not that Nikolai can see it.
“What are you doing?” He grabs my hair. I stand there, a bit shocked as he braids it.
“Tie?” I remove it from my wrist and hand it to him.
“You know how to braid hair?”
"When I was a boy, I used to braid my mother’s." I stay quiet for a moment as he finishes up. This is the most he’s ever told me about himself. I want to ask him questions, but I stop myself. I don’t want him to clam up on me.
“That's sweet.” I try to picture a young Nikolai. It’s hard to think of him as a vulnerable little kid.
“It would be the only sweet thing about my childhood.” I turn slowly to face him. He never talks about his time before Matteo took him in. I’ve always wondered about it. I knew it wasn’t good. But hearing his words causes an ache in my chest.
“I’m sorry.” My fingers itch to touch him.
“No reason to be sorry.” I place my hand on his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice grows thick with emotion.
“Okay.”
“Unless you want to tell me about your knees, then maybe we could strike a deal.”
“Seriously?” I can’t help but laugh. This man will use any tactic to get me to spill about what really happened.
“Are you ready?” Sal asks, stepping into the kitchen. I expect Nikolai to say he’ll be taking me, but he doesn’t. Why am I oddly disappointed?
“She needs food,” Nikolai grumbles but doesn’t offer to take me himself.
“I got it.” Sal holds up a bag.
“Okay, then. I guess I’ll be going.” Nikolai doesn’t say anything as we leave. I swear that boy makes my head spin.
“Thanks for breakfast,” I tell Sal when we make it into the car.
"I was also getting myself some." He shrugs. "Thankfully, Nikolai didn’t slug me again, so I can eat it.” Sal takes a giant bite of a breakfast burrito before putting it back into his bag to start the car. I can see a faint bruise on his face. It must have been from Friday night.
“Sorry about him hitting you.” I motion to the bruise on his jaw.
“Nah, I was fucking with him.” Sal chuckles, pulling out of the parking garage.
“What?”
“Just giving the boy a nudge is all. Knew it would get under his skin.” I’m not sure what he means, but Nikolai isn’t a boy. I don’t care if he is eighteen.