Page 24 of Chase
“Cindy is not a Tilly-wannabe and I am not dating her,” he says with a sigh of exasperation. “We just use each other for appearances and the occasional fuck.”
“Oh, Jesus, I just threw up in my mouth. Not sure from which part of that sentence, but it was definitely vomit.” I grimace and physically shudder in front of him. “And they call me a whore.”
“No, that’s what you tell everyone you are,” he snaps.
“No, Theo, darrrling, it’s what I’ve been called ever since our little sleepover that night,” I argue. “It’s funny, they’ve never said that about you.”
“I didn’t want to leave you, Izzy,” he says sadly, “I came back the next day, but Ethan wouldn’t let me in; what was I meant to do?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing,” I reply with a bored sigh.
“Jesus Christ, Izzy, cut the couldn’t-give-a-shit attitude, will you? You were my best friend, the girl I fell in love with, and now I feel like I don’t even know you at all!”
He’s beginning to get angry with me, they all do eventually. It would seem that even Nonna has lost patience with me.
“You don’t know me,” I tell him bluntly, “no one does, least of all myself. All I know is my self-preservation involves me not giving a shit. You do realise it’s been twelve years, Theo?” He says nothing to that, so I smirk with satisfaction over my win. “You haven’t even asked me where I live, Theodore, so where are we going exactly?”
“I’m taking you back to my place,” he says casually. “Well, actually, it belongs to Grandma, but that’s where we’re going.”
“Like hell we are, I want to go home!” I cry out angrily. “What? Do you actually think we can just pick up where we left off because Cindy, darrrling, is busy tonight?”
“Calm down, Twiglet,” he says with a cheeky smirk over his use of my old nickname. “I’m not going to be sleeping anywhere near you. For starters, I don’t know what I might catch off a prostitute.”
“Probably less than what I’d catch off you, given your propensity for having someone to ‘occasionally fuck’ with.”
“Grandma wants us to stay there, and I am under strict instructions to look out for you tonight. So, as much as you piss me off, I’m even less inclined to go against her,” he says before turning off down a gravel track.
Chapter 9
Izzy
The gravel crackles beneath the car wheels as we pull up outside of a house that looks as though it belongs in a period drama. I let my façade slip by emitting a gasp of awe when I allow my eyes to travel up to see the most beautiful building I’ve ever seen. When you picture living inside of a fairy tale, or back in time as a small child, this is the sort of place you might conjure up. Not only that, but it's also set in a vast expanse of grounds. An oasis of color, even in darkness, shows the gardens are well-tended. I could easily set myself up with a few books and lose entire days in this place. Why has Nonna never told me about it? It can’t possibly belong to her.
“Wait, you took a wrong turn,” I accuse Theo as we approach a grand oak door. “Nonna can’t own this place. Hell, I didn’t even know she owned a second house!”
He doesn’t respond with words, instead, her merely takes out a key and puts it inside the lock, turning it with ease to show the house does in fact, belong to my grandmother. A pang of hurt shoots through me; how could she not have brought me here? More to the point, why did she keep this place a secret? My runaway thoughts are stopped dead when Theo turns on the light and gestures for me to go inside. I stare at him, refusing to move, apart from crossing my arms in a defensive manner.
“I don’t have an overnight bag, I left it in the hotel room. This plan was not at all well thought out, was it, Mr-Hot-Shot-Suit.”
“All taken care of, Twiglet,” he replies with smugness and a tug of my elbow to encourage me inside. “I had one of the hotel staff get it out for you. It’s in the trunk,” he explains, gesturing over to the boot of the car. “I’ll bring it up to your room in a moment.”
“Don’t call me Twiglet,” I huff before conceding to follow him inside. “Only the boy I remember is allowed to call me that. I should have left him behind, well before I discovered him feeling up Maddison Andrews on my bridge.”
“First of all, I knew you were jealous; secondly, that bridge is a public footpath; thirdly, and most importantly, I am that boy, Izzy. After years of not talking, how could you possibly know if I am or am not that boy.”
“That boy never would have made false promises to someone whom he claimed to be his best friend,” I reply without emotion in my voice. Though, even with my attempts to shut it out, it’s there, hiding in my throat with a painful throbbing.
“I didn’t lie, Izzy,” he sighs with exasperation, “I think we both moved on.”
“Yeah, right,” I mutter bitterly.
“Izzy! I—”
“I’m too tired for all this, Theodore,” I sigh, “and this house is far more interesting, so let’s get on with it.”
“Fine,” he snaps, “whatever you want, Izzy, as always.”
He turns his back to lead the way while I close my eyes over those last few words. I could correct him, but I wasn’t lying when I said the house was much more interesting, so I choose to say nothing. Instead, I follow him into a large hallway that houses a grand central staircase. I imagine Cinderella gracefully descending the steps, for they certainly look the part. How long has Nonna had this place? Kid Izzy would have spent hours playing make-believe in a place like this.