Secrets of the Harts

By preparing, I did not mean whatever girly; dressing up preparations normal teenage girls went through. Aside from the fact that I did not like Dylan (at all), I would never be able to carry off that kind of production by myself. In any case, I had already decided what I was going to wear. Whatever I wore didn’t matter anyway; since I didn’t intend to try and impress Dylan.

I’d actually caught myself, a few times today, wondering why I was going this date. Shaking my head at that thought, which I still didn’t have an answer to; I stabbed the button that hid my drawer where all my weapons were kept.

Taking a handgun, I fastened it under my knee-length skirt but above my tights. Then I grabbed a thick bracelet which concealed other round of ammunition. I took another second to think about what I needed—which a second I would not have if I was on the field, I reminded myself—before grabbing a knife. A knife would be very helpful for close combat, if it came to that. I felt a little sickened by that thought. There was only a very slight chance I would survive in close combat.

Calm down, I ordered myself. Dylan’s with you. It’s unlikely they would try anything.

I hid the knife in my purse and put on the thick bracelet.

Then there was a sharp knock on the door.

It was only 6.50 pm and Dylan didn’t strike me as the type that would be early. I’d thought that he would’ve been late. I ambled over and opened the door, surprised to see Tia, especially with a distressed expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think that anything’s wrong? I mean, of course there’s nothing wrong. Do I look upset? Is that it? Because I don’t really feel all that upset, a little worried maybe. Do I look okay? I wasn’t sure about this dress but-”

Tia had this tendency to ramble when she was worried; which was somewhat annoying but mostly funny. Right now though, it made it difficult to understand what she really wanted to know.

“You look great, just relax.” I eventually said, thinking that this was probably the right response to any kind of question she had.

“Oh.” She blushed. “Right, okay.” Then she studied me. “Are you sure you want to wear that?”

I did not know what to make of this comment, because I hardly came across it. Calloway did say it once before, but that was when I had been trying to test her boundaries. How did that comment apply to this situation? I looked down at my clothes, wondering if someone had switched them while I wasn’t noticing. But I was still in the olive green shirt and my navy blue skirt. “Is there something wrong with this?”

“No, no.” Tia paused. “It’s just that…it makes you seem like you’re hiding.”

I stared at her, unnerved. When did I become so obvious?

“Never mind what I said,” she hastily added, probably misunderstanding my offended expression. “You look good.”

I rolled my eyes, all ready to explain that it didn’t matter whether or not I looked good. But the door knocked the second time and I went to get it.

Dylan smiled warmly at me. “Hey. Are you ready, princess?”

Tia laughed slightly at that and I was reminded of how she’d said yesterday that she found it ‘cute’ that Dylan had a special nickname for me. And then she continued talking about knights and Prince Charmings. All I could think about at that time was how Tia managed to associate any part of Dylan with fairytales. And then I realised that I would probably have a great vacation if I lived on the planet Tia inhabited.

I nodded. “Is Luke coming by to get Tia?”

The smile faded slightly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

I didn’t like how uncertain he sounded. But I couldn’t say anything about it here, not when Tia who’d frozen at my question could hear. So I just smiled and said, “Okay then. Let’s go.”
***
“Where are we going?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
“Seriously, where?”
“Seriously, I’m not going to tell you.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’m not telling.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

After getting reassurances that despite how unsure he had sounded, Luke was definitely going to pick Tia up, I’d walked in silence with him for a while. But then I noticed that we were heading further and further way from the school and not in the direction that I usually recognised. I wasn’t only concerned because of our midnight curfew but also because I wouldn’t know what to look out for in a place I was unfamiliar with. So, I started pestering Dylan about the exact location of our destination.

I didn’t know if it was because Dylan enjoyed irritating me or if he really wanted to keep it a surprise but he refused to tell me no matter how I’d asked.

“Why don’t you try and take a guess, princess?” asked Dylan, suddenly. “You and Owen must’ve gone out on some dates, right?”

His interest in Owen was badly concealed and it irked me enormously. I tried not to let it show though, since I knew Dylan would seize upon it. “Yes. But nobody I’ve dated ever brought me out of town before.”

He was silent for a moment before he asked, lightly, “So any ideas?”

“Not really.”

“You have to guess, princess. That’s part of the fun.”

“Do you do this to all your dates?”

I hadn’t intended for my tone to be so snippy but I guessed I was still annoyed over Owen. I glanced over to see his expression, which still remained cheerful. But when he spoke, I forgot all about Owen. “No, I don’t. We usually end up making out in the back of my car by this part.”

I laughed. “That line would only work if you actually have a car with you right now.”

He stopped next to a midnight blue Aston Martin and said, with an eyebrow raised, “Who says I don’t?”

I stared at him incredulously as he dug a key out of his pocket and got into the Aston Martin. Then he unrolled one of the windows and said, “Aren’t you going to get in?”

Shaking my head to get rid of my shock, I opened the door and looked at the sunflower at the passenger seat.

“That’s for you.” And he added, as an afterthought, “I didn’t know what kind you liked.”

It struck me how date-like this was. I didn’t know what I had been expecting but I hadn’t thought that Dylan was capable of being so…charming. This knowledge sent very unpleasant shivers down my spine. But I still got in, because I didn’t know what else to do.

I twirled the sunflower, watching our surroundings change from the barren grounds nearby the school to the outskirts of what seemed to be a city. Then Dylan stopped the car. “You’re really quiet.”

Eying the building where he’d stopped—St. Jude’s Shelter for the Lost—I said, ignoring his comment, “You’re bringing me to a homeless shelter for our date?”

Dylan reddened, which was amusing to watch. It struck me that he only blushed whenever things related to us were mentioned. “Not exactly… This is just an errand I have to make.”

Before I could press him, a lady emerged from the building wearing an extremely large and insincere smile. “Dylan, it’s so nice to see you again. Is there something you need?”

“No, Helen. I’m just donating something.”
Helen nodded; her scepticism apparent. “Of course.”
“I heard that St. Jude’s holding their annual charity auction. So I figured that I must as well donate this car.”

Up to this point, Helen had badly concealed her doubt but now, her eyes widened and she paled. “Are you sure? Does your father know that you’re-”
“Does it really matter?”

His tone was neutral, hiding whatever he thought but Helen paled even more and she quickly said, “Okay then. On behalf of everyone at St. Jude’s, I thank you.”

Dylan nodded once and sauntered off. I stared at his back for a few moments, wondering what had transpired, before realising that I needed to follow him before I lost him.

But then Helen said, quietly to me, “You’re not like the rest of them, are you?”

“Not like who?”

“Even that you don’t understand…” Helen smiled sadly at me. “If you want to keep it that way, you should steer clear of Dylan.”

I frowned at her. Everything that I had seen so far suggested that Dylan was rich and powerful. Powerful enough that even a grown woman running a homeless shelter knew of him. Of course there had to be something that screamed trouble about Dylan that made her anxious. (Why else would he have been sent to this school?) But Helen wasn’t only anxious, she was frightened. She made it seem as though he was—

“Princess, hurry up, won’t you?” he called, realising that I wasn’t behind him.

Forcing a smile on my face, I said to Helen, “Don’t worry about it.”

Then I tried to pretend that I had not seen the worry that flashed through Helen’s eyes and turned to follow Dylan.
***