Page 13 of Tempting the President (Oro Nero MC)

Dear Ashton,

Have you grown taller? I bet you have. Sorry I wasn’t able to write to you in the past few days. I’ve been...out of sorts.

I wish you were here. Without you, there’s just nothing to smile about.

Love, Big Sis

ARIA

I WANT TO STAY HERE . I crossed my arms over my chest just to make my stand clear. Here in Christopoulos University, everyone knew I was the girl with Trauma. It deserved a capitalized T since my condition was medically certified. Usually, that meant I could get away with pretty much everything.

Or at least as long as it didn’t involve a certain upperclassman called Roberta “Bobby” Granger.

Said upperclassman crossed her arms right back at me. “Go help.” Officially, she was the Student Association President of Needs Heard, a foundation established to benefit the Deaf community. Unofficially, we all thought of her as its evil redheaded queen.

Worst day of my life, I thought glumly, was when Bobby mistook me as Deaf. Since then, I had somehow found myself at her beck and call, doing “errands” that were supposed to force me back into living.

Yeah right. Knowing Bobby, it was just her way of getting free help for her beloved foundation.

“ Aria.”

The threatening note in Bobby’s voice made me jump, but I forced myself to stick to my guns. I shook my head at her. No. I preferred to stay in the background. Why couldn’t Bobby understand that?

The older girl glared. “You. Will. Help. This. Instant.”

My courage disappeared in an instant. Bobby was a nice girl – nice enough to win Young Philanthropist of the Year two times in a row, actually – but she also had a tendency to turn into a total tyrant where NH was concerned.

“Ariaaaaa—-”

Oh no, lecture in the hole . It was definitely time to go. I gave her a salute. Roger that.

As I spun around and marched to the door, Bobby laughed behind me. “Do you realize how funny you are? I’m almost thankful you hate speaking.”

I glanced at Bobby over my shoulder. Ha-ha. So funny.

Bobby only laughed harder, the sound making me grind my teeth as I left the office.

I hate this. The thought repeated itself in my mind as I glumly made my way to what would soon be the most crowded place on campus.

Today was Club Day, and today Bobby was determined to have fifty new members for her Sign Language club.

It didn’t matter if the new members had to be bribed, deceived, or sucker-punched into joining.

Fifty was the goal, and fifty was what everyone had been instructed to aim for.

By the time I reached the main road of Christopoulos University, the place was already crawling with club officers and booths were set up right next to each other.

I rolled my eyes when I saw that our club’s booth was the very first one on the road. Prime location, no doubt courtesy of Bobby’s fiancé being a Christopoulos.

Sneaky, sneaky, I thought as I grabbed my set of pamphlets from the booth. Hi. I fluttered my fingers in greeting as I positioned myself next to KC.

KC took one look at my face and burst out laughing. “I’m sure today won’t be so bad.”

I didn’t say a thing, just looked at her, which for some reason only made KC laugh even more. So wonderfully optimistic , I thought dourly. If only I could be like her. Maybe the days would stop being so...blurry.

I stole a look at my friend. With her reddish brown hair tied back in a high ponytail and bouncing every time she shook her head, green eyes glowing with determination, she was like a human sun, and she shone so brightly I was tempted to shield my eyes.

“Stop glaring at me.”

I pointed to her lips with a grimace. Then stop smiling.

KC only laughed. “That was the first thing you said to me when we met in class. Remember?”

I did, unfortunately. That was one of the worst days of my life, too. I was sure KC knew that a passion for art was the only thing we had in common, but it hadn’t seemed to matter to her. The first time we met, she told me she had a feeling we would be very good friends.

I shuddered at the memory. It was ridiculous, the way she could be so optimistic.

Beside me, KC had a lost look on her face, something I had gotten used to over the years. It only meant one thing: she was daydreaming again.

I jabbed her side with my elbow. Hard. Now was not the time to daydream, especially since KC had on a cute navy dress, one guaranteed to have all sorts of pervs coming her way.

The thought had me grimacing. We had another thing in common, after all. Both of us got hit on a lot, KC because she looked too innocent to be true, and me because my curves made everyone think I was an easy lay.

KC was blinking at me rapidly. “Did I...?”

I nodded.

Her cheeks turned rosy with embarrassment. “Sorry. I just started a new project last night, and there’s something missing from it.” KC was a mangaka. More specifically, she specialized in shoujo manga or Japanese romance comics for girls.

The school bell rang then, and all my questions about KC’s project had to wait. When I looked at my friend, she asked, “Ready?”

I nodded. Ready.

I counted the minutes. One, two—-

Three.

Doors burst open, girls running with all their might towards the field. It was a stampede, and only one thing could have caused it. Only one thing always caused it.

Openings in Afxisi, the university’s bike racing club, which everyone knew was just a front for the numerous underground races its members participated in and won.

I mentally shook my head. Silly girls. I had heard horror stories about it from Bobby and MJ, both of them fiancées of bikers who belonged to the Afxisi.

If a girl was accepted as a club member, it only meant they had earned the dubious privilege of keeping house for the Afxisi.

Floor sweeping, laundry, cooking. The only perk – having a chance to get in bed with one of the club’s members.

Yuck.

Students started trickling in, but soon they came in droves, and there was no time for me to even think. I could only hand out pamphlets, one after another, answering everyone’s questions with smiles and deflecting them towards KC when they actually needed to be answered.

It was exhausting, being around so many people. When I was done giving away my set, I tapped KC on the shoulder.

“You want a break?”

I nodded.

“Go, go. I can see this one tired you.” KC waved me away.

I bowed. Thank you.

I hid myself inside the booth by sitting on the ground. Outside, the noise grew and grew. Everyone having a reason to talk, to smile, to laugh.

And yet, all of their noise, no matter how loud, no matter how near they were, always turned into a blur by the time the sound reached my ears.

“Anyone inside?”

Something about the voice made me stiffen, the words sounding more like a gibe than an actual question. I stayed silent, hoping whoever it was would go away.

“We’ve got someone with no ears here.”

Slowly, I covered my own ears, but it was no use.

“This is where he belongs. Freaks for freaks. ”

I pressed my hands to my ears harder, but it was no use. In my mind, other voices were becoming louder, inescapably so.

“Come on, surely there’s another freak inside. Don’t be shy. Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Laughter followed his taunt. Three...four other voices? And they had all stuck together the way bullies did.

Cold sweat crept all over my body. I struggled to stay in the present, but the words were too evil, too painful, too strong, forcing me to spiral back into the past.

Violent trembles afflicted my body as I struggled to get away, but it was too late. The past sucked me in, deeper and deeper—-

The courtroom was quiet as a tomb, and in many ways, the place was exactly that. If it did not have Ashton in it, then that place was dead to her.

At Aria’s right, Dan’s eyes were on her. It had been so all this time. Did he really think she still considered herself as his daughter?

She was eighteen now. Old enough to be an adult, old enough to choose how she wanted to face them.

And she had made that choice today.

Today, she was the plaintiff, and they were the defendants.

Amelie was the first to take the stand, and confronted with questions that she couldn’t answer, she ended up in tears. “I loved him. He’s my son, how could I not love him?”

Aria wanted to scream. Liar! Liar, liar, liar!

So many times she had heard Amelie say she wished she had gone through with the abortion. That she was sick and tired of having to care for Ashton all the time.

How could she keep lying? How?

Someone knocked hard on the booth’s extended edge, the sound jostling me out of my memories. I came back with a silent shudder, and I looked up, disoriented, wondering if it was all over.

But it was not.

They were still there, and everything they did only reminded me of the people I desperately wanted to forget.

“Hellooooooo? Any freak in there? Or maybe you can’t hear us, too?”

Their laughter stabbed me, and I found myself sinking in an ocean of memories.

“Hahaha.”

Oh God, I didn’t want to remember.

“Hahaha.”

But I was weak and helpless, always was, always had been, and soon I was drowning under waves of grief.

When it was her turn at the witness stand, Aria was extremely careful not to look at Amelie and Dan. If she did, she would lose it. She would want to kill them, would want to summon the devil and trade them to get her baby brother back.

Her hand shook as she took hold of the marker and started writing on the whiteboard, her only way to communicate since “it” happened.

THEY NEVER LOVED HIM. THEY ALWAYS THOUGHT HE WAS A BURDEN. AND HE KNEW THAT. MY LITTLE brOTHER KNEW IT EVEN IF WE BOTH PRETENDED HE DIDN’T.

Outside the booth, someone helpless, someone who couldn’t speak, someone...someone like him needed my help.

The silence was deafening, suffocating. It was unbearable because I knew.

Even if you didn’t hear a thing, it didn’t mean someone wasn’t in pain.

I swallowed convulsively, knowing what I had to do. I had thought I’d forever be silent, but this – surely this was a good reason to break my vow?

But before I could speak—-

“FUCK OFF.”

I jerked in shock at the words. The voice was menacing, mortally so. The guy who spoke hadn’t shouted the words, but he didn’t have to. If looks could kill, well, this man – he made it obvious that words could kill, too. Painfully.

Shuffling footsteps answered him, and I knew by the sound of it that the boys had scrambled away. Realizing it left me even more dazed. A part of me was incredulous, the other part awed.

Was he really that scary? I was tempted to see for myself, but I had a feeling if I tried to move, I would just end up falling.

“You okay?” It was the guy again, and he was speaking in a moderate voice.

A normal voice, the way people should when speaking to the Deaf.

It had been one of the first things Bobby taught me.

With Deaf who were capable of lip-reading, there was no reason one had to speak abnormally slow or, heaven forbid, loud .

“Good. Sign language class, this club. Join, you?” The way the guy spoke, I knew he was adept at signing, knew that he was aware their grammar worked differently from ours.

“Cry. It’s okay. Scared, don’t be. Trust me. It’s okay.”

My chest tightened at his words. Like a bolt being screwed into place, forcing my heart to come back to life, it got so tight it was almost impossible to breathe without gasping.

“Hope, don’t lose.”

So, so, tight.

Why, I wondered painfully, did it feel like this guy was talking to me, too?

I looked around me, and the world I had known had turned into something different. It wasn’t as dark. Wasn’t as rotten. Wasn’t as...unclear.

“Not everyone like them. Shit on legs.”

I covered my mouth before a laugh could escape me.

So, so tight.

I wanted to laugh and cry, but it was beyond me. All I could do was breathe.

“Good. Strong, you. Good. Brave. Good.”

I pressed my hands harder against my mouth, trying to silence my gasps even as my chest felt close to exploding.

Somewhere along the way, between despair and anger, between grief and bitterness, I had made myself believe that everyone was like Amelie and Dan.

Selfish.

Murderously selfish.

Until this guy outside.

If this guy had been there—-

If this guy had seen Ashton inside the car, had realized what was happening—-

My baby brother would still be alive.

It was a...comforting thought.

Outside, the guy was still speaking. “Don’t forget. Me, in your corner.”

I touched my lips, and I started to cry, really cry, when I realized that my lips had curved into a smile.

Ashton, you got my letter, didn’t you?

Love you.

Thank you.