Bab 7: THE DEFINITION OF TROUBLE

Selena

I hurried across the parking lot, my heart pounding from the short jog. The afternoon sun blazed overhead, its glare bouncing off the cars and casting long, jagged shadows that seemed to chase me.

My breath came in quick bursts, but I managed to steady it the moment I spotted Ella leaning casually against my car.

Her expression was unreadable, somewhere between amused and exasperated.

"Ella!" I called out, already fumbling for words. "Look, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I did, but whatever it is, I'm really sorry."

To my surprise, she chuckled, shaking her head. "Now you're just hurting my feelings," she said, her voice dripping with mock offense. "Tell me something, do you have a secret twin I don't know about?"

I blinked, utterly confused. "Of course not!" I yelled, "You're my best friend; you'd know that already."

She smirked, arms crossed. "Well then, you deserve an award. Seriously, you could win an Oscar for your performance this morning."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, frowning.

Ella didn't miss a beat. She cupped her hands around her mouth and announced theatrically, "The award for Best Pretender goes to…"

"Ella, cut it out!" I hissed, glancing around nervously. "I'm already late for work."

But she ignored me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh no, I had to make sure I wasn't hallucinating earlier," she teased, "You owe me an explanation. Why didn't you tell me you were planning to pull that stunt on stage?"

I sighed, raking a hand through my hair. "There wasn't a plan, Ella," I said, "Everything happened so fast..."

"Oh please, spare me that," She waved me off with a dramatic flair. "You expect me to believe that? I spent all morning scheming how to sneak into the hall, only to find you sitting next to my crush like it's no big deal." Her eyes narrowed. "What's your game here?"

"I swear, I didn't plan it!" I protested. "You ran off with my library card, remember? I was about to head inside when Mrs. Baxter grabbed me and dragged me up there. Apparently, Chloe was running late."

"Wait. Who the hell are Mrs. Baxter and Chloe?" she asked, clearly lost.

I groaned, smacking my forehead. "Right. I forgot you don't care about the library or anyone in it." I held out my hand, giving her a pleading look. "Can I have my card back now?"

Ella raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my frustration. "Not so fast," she said, taking a step back, "Tell me you at least got his number, you know, for your homegirl, of course."

"Whose number?" I asked, genuinely bewildered.

Her jaw dropped. "The guy on stage with you! You know, the one I've been obsessing over all morning?"

"Sorry to disappoint," I said with a grimace, shaking my head. "It didn't even cross my mind."

Ella pressed a hand dramatically to her chest. "Wow. You're really out to break my heart today, aren't you?" She shoved the library card into my hand with a playful glare. "And what's with the whole saintly act? Since when do you care about people and communal living?"

"Don't start," I muttered, but we both ended up laughing.

Still, Ella wasn't done. Her tone turned conspiratorial. "But seriously… do you even know who those people are?"

"I assume they're in construction like Victor," I replied, referring to my stepfather. "That makes them his problem, not mine."

Ella snorted and swung me around to face the city library. "Take a good look, genius," she said, "During his days, the old man built this place you're so obsessed with. And don't act like you know more about it than I do."

"When did you become such an expert on local history?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Since I started crushing on the guy sitting next to you," she shot back, rolling her eyes. "Now, be a good friend and put in a word for me."

I leaned in close, lowering my voice. "You do remember you have a boyfriend, right?" I asked rhetorically, "Last I checked, you two were still together. So, technically, this is wrong."

Her expression turned bemused, as though I'd just cracked a joke. "Tell me you got his number first, and then I'll decide if we're still together," she teased.

I sighed, already stepping toward the car. "Hate to burst your bubble, but I didn't," I said looking at my phone clock, "And I'm really late for work."

Ella pouted as I slid into the driver's seat. "You're always working," she muttered, leaning against the car door. "One day, you're going to burn out."

"Maybe," I said with a wry smile as I started the engine. "But until then, I've got a shift to catch."

Before Ella could respond, a voice called out behind us. "Rushing off somewhere?"

Startled, I glanced at the side mirror to see the young man from the event center striding toward us.

"Uhm, yes," I stammered, gripping the wheel tighter. "Richard, right?"

"Hey," Ella interjected with a wide smile, cutting in before he could answer.

He turned to her and offered a polite smile but didn't respond, keeping his attention fixed on me.

"You rushed off before we could get properly acquainted, Miss Florence," Richard said smoothly.

"It's Lawrence, Selena Lawrence," I corrected quickly, trying to mask my growing discomfort.

He paused, scratching the back of his neck, clearly caught off guard. "Ah, my apologies, Miss Lawrence," he said with a sheepish grin. "So, would you consider giving me your number? Or better yet, maybe we could discuss more over lunch sometime... whenever you're free?"

I frowned slightly, feeling the heat rise to my face. "I'd love to stay and chat," I said as I shifted the gear into drive, "but I'm late for my shift. Besides, getting to know you better would probably just get me into trouble."

"Trouble?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, "Define trouble."

Before I could overthink it, I waved Ella over. "Come here, Ella," I said, motioning her closer. Turning back to Richard, I gestured toward her with a knowing look. "Richard, meet my best friend, Ella. She's had a crush on you all day. I'm sure you two can take it from here."

Ella's jaw dropped, and for a split second, she looked ready to strangle me. But she recovered quickly, turning her brightest smile on Richard.

"Really? You don't say," Richard said, glancing at Ella with new interest. "Hey you."

"Hey you too," Sandy said with a nervous laugh, "Well, since she's already spilled the beans. Why don't we exchange numbers and see where this goes?"

I smirked to myself, watching through the side mirror as they continued the discussion. They smiled at each other, the air suddenly charged with unspoken possibilities.

"Have fun, you two!" I called out before driving off, leaving them behind.

As I turned out of the driveway, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. I just hoped, for Ella's sake, that this was another of her harmless flings. Otherwise, things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.

As I merged onto the highway, my phone suddenly rang, breaking the relative silence of the car.

I glanced at the screen, and my stomach twisted when I saw my mother's name flashing. Hesitating for a moment, I pressed the answer icon and switched to the car's Bluetooth speaker.

"Mom?" I said cautiously, my voice wavering just slightly.

"Where are you?" she demanded without preamble, her tone clipped and urgent.

"I'm on my way to work," I replied, my fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "Is something wrong?"

There was a pause, the kind that made my heart race faster than the car's engine. Then her voice came, softer but no less intense. "You need to come home right now, sweetheart," she said. "You were on TV."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath caught as my grip on the steering wheel turned white-knuckled. I swerved slightly, quickly signaling before pulling into the service lane.

"Mom, are you sure?" I asked, though I already knew she wouldn't be mistaken. My voice trembled as I forced the words out.

"Of course I'm sure!" she snapped, then immediately softened. "I'm sorry, darling, but I'm worried. Victor has seen it."

I stared blankly at the traffic rushing past me, the words circling in my head. 'On TV'. My mind raced, connecting the dots too quickly for comfort. If it was already on TV, by morning it would be in the papers. And I'd be in those papers, clear as day, standing next to Victor's biggest competitor.

"Mom, I can't talk right now," I blurted, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'll call you back, okay?"

"What do you mean you'll call me back?" she pressed. "Do you understand what's at stake here? You need to..."

"I can't, Mom," I cut her off, before ending the call.

I slumped back against the seat, my mind spinning. By now, my stepfather Victor must've heard.

I turned off my phone, the thought of it buzzing again making my anxiety spike. I stared out at the highway ahead, unsure of what to do next. My job? My family? Either way, there would be consequences... Consequences of putting myself in trouble.

My fingers hovered over the ignition, the weight of indecision pressing on me like a storm cloud. Do I turn around and face the music now? Or do I delay the inevitable and head to my shift?

I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a deep breath. "Get a grip," I muttered to myself.

My phone lay silent and lifeless on the passenger seat. I gripped the steering wheel again, threw a last glance at the rearview mirror, and made my choice.

Shifting into drive, I pulled back onto the highway and headed to work.

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