Page 13 of Ordinary Secrets (Secrets Trilogy #1)

13

TREY

It’s been two days since I had dinner with Arella. We’ve been texting back and forth so much that my phone is almost always in my hands, but I have yet to see her again. She has yet to mention it, either. Two days is long enough to wait before giving it another shot.

Hey beautiful! My band and crew are coming over tonight for a little get together at my place. You wanna come? Javina and her girlfriend are welcome too.

Hey pretty boy! It’s Javina. Ari and I will be there. What time?

I grin at the text. I purposely waited until I knew Arella was at work with Javina before texting her. I figured that if Javina knew she was invited, she’d convince Arella to come.

How about seven?

I text her my address.

Thanks, hot stuff. We’ll see ya then!

Sorry, you’ll have to excuse Javina and do the same tonight too. She has no boundaries. I’ll see you tonight.

Can’t wait!

Fuck yeah. Now all I’ve gotta do is convince people to come over.

When I arrive at the Soul House for rehearsal in the afternoon, the backstage area is empty. After my bandmates show up, I mention the idea of having a little get-together. Marcus and Emmy are the first to jump in.

“I’ll bring some snacks!” Emmy says.

“I’ll get the drinks,” Marcus adds.

“I’ll provide the pizza,” I say, glancing at Kevin, who looks hesitant. “And we can set up a poker table.”

He flashes me a you know me so well grin. “Pizza? Poker? I’m down!”

By the time we’re done working and everyone’s in my backyard, my “little get-together” has turned into a huge party. I figured that since it was last minute, only a few people would show up.

And I thought wrong.

Not only is most of the crew here, Kevin’s two older brothers are too. Like Kevin, they heard poker and couldn’t resist.

Upbeat music blasts over my speakers. Cardboard boxes of pepperoni pizzas decorate a long fold-up table. A few crew members have brought their dogs and are chatting by the fire pit. Everyone else is scattered around playing card games, mixing drinks, or telling stories on my patio.

Arella and Javina are the last to show up. Javina struts through the wooden gate first. Behind her comes Arella in a flowy white sundress that shows just enough cleavage to get my dick to harden. My gaze skates down her slender legs. My hands twitch from wanting to run my palms up and down her skin. I know I’m supposed to only get information from her, and I shouldn’t be as attracted to her as I am, but damn, she’s fucking gorgeous.

I wave from the pizza table, hoping my boner isn’t noticeable. “Hey, ladies! Thanks for comin’.” In my head, I thank Javina profusely for being here. I doubt Arella would have come on her own.

“Thanks for the invite!” Javina says.

“Wow. There’s a lot of people here.” Arella has all her hair tied into a braid falling over one shoulder. Wisps of wavy curls frame her face as she eyes the crowd.

“Apparently our team didn’t have much else going on tonight,” I say.

“T!” Liz calls from a distance. “Come! Monique wants us to take a quick band pic for the socials.”

I groan out loud. These “quick band pics” are never quick. Monique usually makes us pose for a few minutes so she has enough content to work with. While I’m glad she takes care of our band’s social media, I’d rather not have to take pictures all the time. But I’ve learned it’s easier to comply than to resist, so I take a step backward, away from the only reason I have all these damn people at my house.

“Help yourself!” I gesture toward the food. “I’ll be right back.”

For longer than necessary, I smile, I pose, and I put my hands where I’m told. The second Monique says, “Awesome job, everyone!” I beeline back to Arella, who’s quietly nibbling on some pizza crust.

Unsurprisingly, Javina has inserted herself into a game of poker. Arella looks like Javina’s plus-one as she stands behind her friend’s chair, watching the card game.

“You look beautiful,” I say once I’m back at her side. Under the sun and in this dress, she looks like she’s a glowing angel sent from the heavens.

Arella glances up at me with a sweet smile. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

I receive compliments all the time, but they never feel the way it does when Arella says it. When other girls tell me I’m hot, it’s because they want me to fuck ’em, and it feels like a transaction. When Arella says that I “don’t look too bad,” I believe her.

I tilt my head to the side. “You wanna go for a walk?”

She gives me a look like I’ve just stumped her with a riddle. “Um, shouldn’t you stick around? It’s your party.”

“Nah. Nobody’ll miss me.”

“Um, I don’t know if I should leave Javina here alone.”

Without taking her eyes off the poker table, Javina speaks over her shoulder. “Go for a walk with the man, Ari! I’ll still be here when you get back. Except I’ll have double the money in my pocket.”

The boys around the card table erupt into laughter.

“Yeah, right.” Kevin chuckles. “Start weeping!” He throws his cards down, face up. It’s a full house. Three queens, two jacks. Kevin’s brothers groan, chucking their cards at the table. Laughing, Kevin snatches the chips from the middle.

I’m not a poker person. My ability to read emotions tells me exactly when someone’s bluffing. It’s not fun when I’m basically cheating.

Arella pops the last bit of pizza crust into her mouth, then throws away her paper plate. “Okay, I’m ready.”

We’re just through the wooden gate when Liz shouts at me. “T!”

I twist on my heel with an exasperated “Whaaat?”

“Where ya goin’?”

“For a walk.”

She flashes me the same look Arella did when I suggested that we ditch my own party. “Okay...? Don’t be long.”

“I won’t, Mom.”

Liz responds with an eyeroll, then goes back to her conversation with Emmy.

When Arella and I make it to the sidewalk, I shove my hands into my pockets. I have the urge to offer her my arm to hook hers through, but I’m pretty certain she won’t accept it.

I’ve got a hunch as to why Arella’s so jumpy whenever I touch her. I think she’s been abused. I used to be jumpy, too, whenever Victor raised a hand around me. Once I got as tall as him, he stopped hitting me like that, and I stopped being jumpy.

Considering Arella is all of five-two, with skinny arms that resemble tree branches, whoever abused her is probably still bigger than her. I doubt it was her grandparents, since she seems to adore them and vice versa. If I had to put money on it, I’d say it was an ex-boyfriend.

“I’m glad Javina forced you to come out tonight,” I say as I shift to walk on Arella’s side closer to the street.

“She didn’t force me. When I saw your message at work, I mentioned it to her. I’m not really a party person, so she thought I was going to say no, which is why she stole my phone and texted you.”

I raise my eyebrows with a smile. “So... you wanted to come?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Hearing that makes me feel like I’m doing something right. “Javina seems like a good friend.”

“She’s my bestest friend.” After a few steps, Arella asks, “Who’s your best friend?”

My answer comes easily. “Liz.”

“Does she always keep tabs on you?”

“Sometimes. She thinks I’ll get into trouble if she doesn’t.”

“Is she right?”

I purse my lips together, tilting my head from side to side. “Kinda.”

“What kind of trouble do you usually get into?”

“Fights, mostly. When I was in school, I’d get sent home early for fighting in class. My teachers suggested that I join after-school programs as a way to help me control my anger, or some bullshit like that.”

“Did you?”

“Yep. Theater, art, football, soccer, basketball. None of them worked.”

After-school programs work for most kids, like the ones my foundation supports. Being able to do something fun outside of their depressing homes helps them forget about their dead parents. I only wish it had worked for me.

“It sounds like your bad-boy phase started young,” Arella says.

This isn’t the first time someone’s called me a bad boy. I wouldn’t say I’m a bad person. It’s not like I purposely tried to pick fights with the other boys at school. It’s that when they didn’t stop bullying me for wearing the same three outfits, I couldn’t stop my fists from pounding into their faces.

Three outfits were all I had. Victor didn’t care enough to provide anything more. The only reason he paid for me to join all those after-school activities was because it kept me away from him.

“You seem to be more tamed now,” Arella says. It warms me a little because “tamed” seems to be something she wants. I’ll be tamed or whatever else if it means she’ll tell me if she’s ever been experimented on in a lab. “I mean, you might try to look like a bad boy sometimes, but I think that’s just a defense mechanism.”

“Defense mechanism?”

She narrows her eyes at me, smug. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“I don’t.”

“If Liz keeps tabs on you, that means the fighting didn’t stop once you got older, right? I’m guessing bars or clubs? Maybe both?”

“Right...” I don’t like where this is going.

“I’m also going to assume you have a history of drugs, drinking, and sleeping around. Maybe you still do. Either way, I think you like to look like a bad-boy because you think it keeps people away. You probably think that’s easier than actually letting people in, because the fewer people you get close to, the fewer people you have to lose.”

I freeze to gape at her. I’ve never thought about the reason why I keep people at a distance. In school, people were either afraid of me or pitied me, and I didn’t want to be friends with either. Even now, I see my bandmates all the time, and besides Liz, they don’t know that much about me. What Arella said has some truth to it. Letting fewer people in does mean I have fewer people to lose.

Her dress twirls around her thighs as she turns to face me. “I’m sorry if I’m wrong. I’m just saying this because of the way you talked about losing Elliott and how it made you never want to mentor another kid.”

I clear my throat and resume our walk. “So, um, anyway... Tell me about your plans for the weekend.”

She offers me an understanding smile as she returns to a steady pace at my side. “I’m going to visit my grandparents.”

Last night, I did some digging into Phillip and Roxanne Ward. Roxy’s background check came back mostly empty, which checks out because she was a stay-at-home grandma.

As for Phil, his background information is fishy as hell. A few auto shops came up as past employers, but I didn’t see a new employer every year like Arella claims happened. Either he was getting paid under the table or someone has tampered with his records. In addition, neither of her grandparents’ information revealed past addresses. It’s like someone went through and deleted as much as they could. Question is: Who and why?

“Are you staying there for the whole weekend?” I ask as we wait on a curb for a car to pass before crossing the street.

“I’ll leave Friday after work and come back Sunday evening.”

I guess I won’t be able to see her this weekend... “What do you guys usually do?”

“Sometimes we go out to eat. For sure we’ll play board games, and I’ll bake something with Grammy.”

“Did you play a lot of board games growing up?”

“Mm-hmm. You?”

“Not really.” By that, I mean none at all. The idea of Victor breaking out Candy Land with me is unimaginable.

“If you didn’t watch TV and you didn’t play board games, how did you spend your childhood?”

If I tell her how I spent my childhood, she won’t believe me. Hell, I wouldn’t believe me.

She’ll think I’m joking if I tell her I grew up under a mountain in a secret compound. She’ll think I’m insane if I tell her that a few weeks after I moved in, I discovered that burning down trees with the fire that comes out of my hands made me feel better.

At the age of eight, I spent most of my after-school hours trying to make money to buy myself new clothes and shoes.

At nine, I was put into training with the new ZIRDA agents to learn how to fight properly. Victor allowed me to learn in hopes that it would help me control my gifts better. Either that or he got off on seeing me get beat up. Whichever it was, it didn’t change that whenever I got too upset, my powers would get out of hand. My room used to light up in flames almost once a week, and things would fly all over the place.

How I spent my time as a kid isn’t something I want to share with Arella.

“I went for a lot of walks,” I say, thinking about all the times I hiked the forest for a good tree to burn. It’s the truth, just not the specific truth. “And I worked out a lot.”

“Were you a chubby kid?”

“No, but I enjoyed exercising.” If getting beat up by people twice my age counts as exercising...

Victor didn’t tell the adults I trained with to go easy on me. They were told to fight hard, and they did. The worst part is that along with my own pain, I could feel theirs too. It made me twice as weak.

It wasn’t until I hit puberty and finally learned how to block other people’s physical emotions from mirroring onto me that I began winning fights. Otherwise, I was basically used as a punching bag.

Arella and I loop around the sidewalk to head back toward my house. Before we arrive there, I need to ask her out again. I just don’t know how.

“I checked out your blog last night,” I say.

Her eyes widen. “You did?”

“Yeah. You make cakes look like works of art displayed in a museum.”

“Wow. I didn’t think you’d actually look at it.”

With any other girl, I wouldn’t have. But this is Arella, and I need to learn everything about her. I hoped that going through her website would give me some insight on who she is. All I got out of it was a craving for baked goods.

“Do you make money on your site?” I ask.

“Some. Not enough to live off of. It’s based on ad clicks and how high the traffic is.”

“That’s how my band makes money on YouTube, too. Ad partners and brand deals. The more clicks and views, the bigger the paycheck.”

Arella steps over a large crack in the sidewalk. “You must make a ton of money on YouTube if you’re able to split it between the band, hire a crew, and still have enough to afford a four-bedroom house in Brentwood on your own.”

“Most of the band’s income comes from tickets to our live shows, meet and greets, and merch. Also, I didn’t buy my house with the band’s earnings. I bought my house because of the band, remember? We needed a place to play, so I provided it.”

“Then, I’m curious... How are you able to afford your house? And afford to travel internationally? And start a foundation?”

The only people I’ve ever told about my inheritance are Liz and Jess. Whenever people ask, I usually tell them I have a lot of investments and leave it there. While that’s true, the money I invested with came from my inheritance. I don’t like telling people exactly where my money comes from. It usually leads to them asking how my parents died. I hate having to retell the fake story, so the less I have to talk about it, the better.

Maybe because Arella understands what it’s like to be parentless, I can tell her that I lost mine too—without all the meaningless I’m sorry s and pity looks. She probably knows how useless those are.

“My parents were wealthy,” I say as a way to imply that they’re gone without actually saying it. “They left me everything they had.”

“What did they do for a living?” she asks without a hint of surprise.

Did she already know that they died? How? I haven’t said anything to suggest that my parents are dead until now.

“They were researchers.” Technically, that’s true. My parents were researchers... for ZIRDA. They were the ones who spent years in a lab, working to uncover if it was possible to create a usable product from Healers’ tears that kept its healing abilities.

Now that we know it’s possible, who’s to say we can’t discover the source of an Ordinary’s immunity, reproduce it, and create a pill, or a liquid, or anything that will give ZIRDA agents immunity over the Royals?

I swallow hard before asking, “How did you know my parents are gone?”

She looks away from me as she plays with the end of her long braid. “Um, I read about it when I Googled you. Your Wiki page mentions it briefly.”

“I see,” I say to the sidewalk. It’s been years since I looked myself up. I didn’t realize my Wikipedia page included that information.

A moment passes before Arella breaks the silence. “Do you wish I didn’t know?”

“Nah, it’s fine. I just don’t like to talk about it.”

“We can talk about something else,” she says cheerfully, and I appreciate her attempt at bringing the mood back up. “What are your plans this weekend?”

I don’t miss a beat. “Thinking up ways to win you over.”

The mood officially changes the second Arella bursts into laughter. A hint of pink forms on her cheeks. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, and if you tell me how to do that, it’ll make my job a lot easier.”

It takes a few heartbeats before she says, “Maybe I’m not something you can win, Trey.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Are you saying that you’re not an option at all? Or that I gotta work to earn you, not win you?”

She pauses to think. “Um, maybe I’m just not in the right place right now to start something new.”

“Bullshit. Not buyin’ that. I think that if a person, especially a woman, really wants something, she’ll make it happen. So, that means you don’t want me enough, and I’m gonna change that. You just gotta tell me how.”

“Shouldn’t that be something you figure out on your own?”

I theatrically slump my shoulders. “But I’m impatient. It’d be much easier if you just tell me. If you don’t, I’ll have to resort to my own dumb ideas.”

“Which are?”

“Doing lots of cheesy romantic things until you’re swept off your feet and want me more than you want to bake. If that doesn’t work, I’ll try plan B.”

“Which is?”

I grin. “Pulling my pants down.”

Arella laughs again, covering her mouth with a palm in the most adorable way. “Does that usually work for you?”

“Hasn’t failed me yet. Typically, that’s plan A, but I figured you’re not the type to fall for that.”

She’s still laughing, and I love the sound of it. Her laugh means I’m making progress. “Do you have a plan C?”

“Nah. I’m hoping I won’t need one.”

Her laughter fades as she rolls her eyes. “I still don’t understand why you’re trying so hard to date me. If you want something easy, you should look through that long line of women ready to throw themselves at you.”

“You’re different, Arella. I don’t know why, but you’ve captured my attention.” That’s a lie. I do know why. Arella is the most unique person I’ve ever met. She’s literally one of three people in the entire world that I know of who are immune to Zordi powers.

“Why do you always call me Arella?”

I press my brows together. “Because that’s your name?”

“But everyone calls me Ari.”

“Would you rather I call you that?” I call her Arella because for four weeks before I met her, I referred to her in my head as Arella. Calling her Ari now would sound weird. But if that’s what she wants...

“I don’t mind,” she says. “I actually kind of like it.”

I’m going to take her “kind of” as that she really likes it.

We talk easily until we arrive back in my driveway. One of my band’s songs is playing from the backyard speakers. My time alone with Arella is almost up, and I haven’t thought of a way to ask her out yet. I still get the feeling that she’ll reject me.

When I asked her out before, she only agreed on the premise that we’d be going as friends. Victor made it clear that being friends isn’t good enough and that getting intimate with her will encourage her to tell me secretive things about herself. How can I get her to date me if?—

That’s it! I can’t present the date as a date. I’ve gotta make it sound casual. That’s how I got her to come out to my show. That’s how I got her out for dinner. And that’s how I got her here tonight.

If I had texted her saying, “Hey, wanna come to a party as my date?” she absolutely would have turned me down. I informally invited her, nonchalantly asked her to bring Javina, and it got her to show up.

“What’re you doin’ tomorrow?” I ask with a newfound vigor.

“Work.”

I don’t hide my disappointment as I grunt. “Nanny or daycare?”

“Daycare. I only nanny over the weekends. Except this weekend because the family I nanny for is going on vacation. That’s why I’m going to see my grandparents.”

“Do you have a day off next week?”

She nods. “Monday.”

Make it sound casual... “You wanna hang out?”

At the closed gate to my backyard, Arella stops and turns to me, tilting her head back a little to meet my eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Thank fuck she didn’t immediately say no. “I’ve got a video shoot in the morning. How ’bout something fun in the afternoon, and then we can get dinner afterward?”

She squints at me with a smile. “Is this your sly way of asking me out on a date?”

Abso-fucking-lutely . “Nah. We can just hang out as friends, if that’s what you want.”

Spending time with her as friends is the same as dating, just without the label. I don’t need the label to work my mission, especially if it’s the one thing holding her back.

Making our time together sound casual must be working, because Arella perks up. “Okay. Let’s hang out on Monday.”