Damon if you get in the car,” he says. “I’ve got the number to a line that goes directly to him.”
I look over at him and pout.
He said the one thing that could make me get into a car.
I want to talk to Damon.
“Fine,” I say, slowing making my way to the car.
Tristan stands there watching. He’s probably going to make sure I don’t run off.
“Can you get somebody else to start the car first?” I ask. “Just in case.”
He rolls his eyes and pushes a button on the remote. The car starts. No explosion.
“Remote start,” he says. “Now get your behind in that car right now.”
“Fine,” I say, getting in.
But only because I really want to talk to Damon.
I buckle up as Tristan gets in the driver’s seat. The knot on my head is a reminder that I should never be in a car with him unless it’s on. His driving is quite scary.
“What is the number to his private line?” I ask Tristan, as we take off.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to me. Tristan threw mine away at the bus station. “It’s just his cell phone number, Katerina.”
“He gets to keep his? That’s not fair,” I say, whining. Because, seriously, it’s not.
“Damon’s phone is a secure line. It’s not traceable. Yours is. I’ll get you a new phone. This one won’t be able to be trace by anybody—not Russian terrorists, not United States government, nobody,” he says.
I scratch my head under the wig. I’m glad it’s cool today. This thing is making my head sweaty.
“Does my phone really need to be that extreme?” I ask.
“Yes,” he answers. “Your dad’s group is very powerful. What you’ve seen is just somebody gone rogue acting out. Your father has access to nuclear power.”
I tense at his words.
Nuclear power.
That is not good. Not at all.
“So what did you tell the school?” I ask.
“Dean Bello knows some. She has low security access. She knows that your life is in danger. And obviously, the president’s son is top priority for the school,” he tells me. “I’m sure she will tell the school that since you two are dating you had to go into hiding as well.”
“Dating?” I ask. “But we’re not. Not yet anyway. Now everybody is going to think we are and they’re going to stare at me. It’s really annoying.”
“That’s the price of fame,” he says.
“I don’t want fame.”
“Then why are you dating the president’s son?”
“I’m not,” I say.
“Sorry. Then why are you almost dating the president’s son?”
“I like Damon,” I tell him. “I don’t see him as the president’s son. I see him as a person. Which he is. And I like who he is. He’s a sweet guy.”
“You two don’t have a lot in common,” Tristan says.
“But he’s trying,” I say. “Damon has started running so he could spend time with me. That’s really sweet. And he’s a kind guy. Plus, he puts up with me . What more could I ask from a potential boyfriend?”
“Sometimes I forget you’re only sixteen,” he says. “I mean, you usually don’t act like it. But then you go and say something like that.”
“I’ll be seventeen in two months,” I tell him, feeling the need to defend myself. “I’m not a child, Tristan.”
“I know,” he says. “Trust me, I know.”
“My older brother, Dimitri, is engaged to a girl who is only eighteen. Our age gap is the same as theirs. So you can keep talking to me like you’re so much older and wiser,” I say to him. “I don’t want to talk about the accident, but you know what happened. You know that my brother died while I held him and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I grew up that night. I went from being a normal sixteen year old girl to the person I am today. And I like Damon because he reminds me of the girl that I used to be. I’ve never seen him as anything more than just a normal teenage boy.”
“I’m glad you have Damon,” Tristan says. “That boy is crazy about you. Don’t break his heart.”
“I’m not
I look over at him and pout.
He said the one thing that could make me get into a car.
I want to talk to Damon.
“Fine,” I say, slowing making my way to the car.
Tristan stands there watching. He’s probably going to make sure I don’t run off.
“Can you get somebody else to start the car first?” I ask. “Just in case.”
He rolls his eyes and pushes a button on the remote. The car starts. No explosion.
“Remote start,” he says. “Now get your behind in that car right now.”
“Fine,” I say, getting in.
But only because I really want to talk to Damon.
I buckle up as Tristan gets in the driver’s seat. The knot on my head is a reminder that I should never be in a car with him unless it’s on. His driving is quite scary.
“What is the number to his private line?” I ask Tristan, as we take off.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to me. Tristan threw mine away at the bus station. “It’s just his cell phone number, Katerina.”
“He gets to keep his? That’s not fair,” I say, whining. Because, seriously, it’s not.
“Damon’s phone is a secure line. It’s not traceable. Yours is. I’ll get you a new phone. This one won’t be able to be trace by anybody—not Russian terrorists, not United States government, nobody,” he says.
I scratch my head under the wig. I’m glad it’s cool today. This thing is making my head sweaty.
“Does my phone really need to be that extreme?” I ask.
“Yes,” he answers. “Your dad’s group is very powerful. What you’ve seen is just somebody gone rogue acting out. Your father has access to nuclear power.”
I tense at his words.
Nuclear power.
That is not good. Not at all.
“So what did you tell the school?” I ask.
“Dean Bello knows some. She has low security access. She knows that your life is in danger. And obviously, the president’s son is top priority for the school,” he tells me. “I’m sure she will tell the school that since you two are dating you had to go into hiding as well.”
“Dating?” I ask. “But we’re not. Not yet anyway. Now everybody is going to think we are and they’re going to stare at me. It’s really annoying.”
“That’s the price of fame,” he says.
“I don’t want fame.”
“Then why are you dating the president’s son?”
“I’m not,” I say.
“Sorry. Then why are you almost dating the president’s son?”
“I like Damon,” I tell him. “I don’t see him as the president’s son. I see him as a person. Which he is. And I like who he is. He’s a sweet guy.”
“You two don’t have a lot in common,” Tristan says.
“But he’s trying,” I say. “Damon has started running so he could spend time with me. That’s really sweet. And he’s a kind guy. Plus, he puts up with me . What more could I ask from a potential boyfriend?”
“Sometimes I forget you’re only sixteen,” he says. “I mean, you usually don’t act like it. But then you go and say something like that.”
“I’ll be seventeen in two months,” I tell him, feeling the need to defend myself. “I’m not a child, Tristan.”
“I know,” he says. “Trust me, I know.”
“My older brother, Dimitri, is engaged to a girl who is only eighteen. Our age gap is the same as theirs. So you can keep talking to me like you’re so much older and wiser,” I say to him. “I don’t want to talk about the accident, but you know what happened. You know that my brother died while I held him and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I grew up that night. I went from being a normal sixteen year old girl to the person I am today. And I like Damon because he reminds me of the girl that I used to be. I’ve never seen him as anything more than just a normal teenage boy.”
“I’m glad you have Damon,” Tristan says. “That boy is crazy about you. Don’t break his heart.”
“I’m not
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