Part 2 (1/2)
”Mmm-hmm.” He strides over and plucks at my s.h.i.+rt flirtatiously.
Fine, I don't care what he believes. His reputation rides on this as much as Zach's. ”I just need to get out of here before I ruin your wholesome image.”
Ben rolls his eyes. ”It's just an image. It's fiction. Better for everyone when it's gone.”
”I'd think a little more about that,” I say. ”Once it's gone, it's gone for good. You can't ever get it back.”
”Good riddance.”
”You do not want the whole world thinking you're a man-wh.o.r.e,” I insist. Because he really, really can't tell on me to the press.
”But what if I am?”
”Listen to me. You may not believe nothing happened between me and Zach, but nothing happened, and you can't leak a rumor like that about Zach to the press. Fine if you don't care about your image, but he cares about his. Please show him a little respect.”
He meets my gaze steadily, unblinking. Then he shrugs. ”I won't tell anyone. I wouldn't. It's your business.”
”Thank you.”
”You need a ride home?”
”No. I drove.”
”'Kay, let me walk you to your car. I'm starving. I need vending machine food.”
”First cla.s.s all the way, huh?”
He chuckles as he pulls his door shut behind him and we head down the hall. ”So I'm Ben, by the way.”
”Kyra.”
”You're Jason Vanderholt's niece?”
”Yeah.”
”Is he part, um... Latino?”
”Excuse me? You making a.s.sumptions because I have a really good tan?”
”I have nothing but respect for your brownness.”
Without even thinking about it, I give him a playful punch in the shoulder, which he dodges before grasping my hand. That split second of skin-to-skin contact is enough to make me back off immediately, and he holds his hands up in understanding surrender.
”I'm his sister's step-daughter,” I explain.
”Gotcha.”'
We reach the elevators and I push the down arrow.
”So,” he says, ”do I get points for not making some crack about you cooking or cleaning stuff?”
”Yes, but you just lost them, plus a penalty.”
”Dang it. How big a penalty?”
”Does it matter? You weren't ever going to get anywhere with me anyway.”
”Ouch.”
The elevator arrives and we both step in.
”Do your parents wonder where you are or is this a normal thing?” asks Ben.
”My phone is dead.”
For the second time in one night, a member of Triple Cross takes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to me. The problem is, I don't know my parents' numbers by heart; I've always used speed dial. In fact, there's only one phone number I've had to dial enough times to memorize it, since I wasn't allowed to program it into my phone. Normally I wouldn't bother someone in the middle of the night, but some people have it coming. The phone line goes straight to voicemail, but a callback comes before I can leave a coherent message.
”Do I even want to know?” Jason asks me. ”I'm at your house, by the way. Thanks for stressing out my sister.” His sister, my stepmother, happens to be seven months pregnant.
”How'd you know it was me?”
”Who else would be calling right now? And I know your cell phone is dead. And I'm married to a forensic scientist. I'm getting good at this stuff. What's the story?”
”It was an accident,” I say. ”Seriously. Not just making that up. I fell asleep.” No one brings out the whiny kid in me faster than Jason. That's part of the reason we don't get along.
”So you want my advice on what? How to lie to your stepmother?”
”No. I called you to get her number. I don't have it memorized.”
”Back in my day-”
”You communicated by telegraph and had to memorize a forty-five-digit string of numbers just to call down the street.”
”Nah, we had cell phones and I didn't know anyone's number by heart either. Yeah, okay, I'll tell Jen when she wakes up. She's asleep. You able to get home all right?”
”Yes. But why are you at my house?”
”Chloe's having a rough time.”
”Oh...”
”So you will not stress her out-”
”I never do,” I snap. ”You're the one who's all high strung and stressy.”
”All right.” He sounds wounded, but he accepts my point, which is definitely a new thing for him.
Ben's staring at me like I've grown a second head. ”Who are you talking to?” he asks.
”I'm talking to my loser uncle.”