Trespassing

Trip's POV

My neck muscles felt sore as I moved my head angling my head better. My head had been hanging from the couch's backrest edge for too long. I wrapped my arm around the girl wearing dark red lingerie. She pushed her dark hair from my path, I trailed down her neck tasting her; the aspiring-model behind the couch sucked on my ear, while Missy-red—I couldn't be bothered with remembering her name—ran her fingers down my chest, opening the last button of my shirt. I kept my face glazed as I looked between both of them, they wanted my attention at the same time. Hmm, Missy-red was much hotter than Aspiring-model. Her tits were rounder, too. Too much silicone, I think this was the atomic model it was hard to say, with the cups hiding the rest of her breasts. I tightened my arm and she was propelled closer. I dove to the middle of her breasts leaving her gasping and arching. In the middle of all the euphoric pleasure, I didn't know whose fingers were wrapping into my hazel hair. I just saw skin, slim, skinny… the usual. I was licking my lips when I heard a knock on the penthouse door. My eyebrows flexed in confusion. Was I waiting for anyone?

I banged away the hands clutching at my arms, as I got up from the leather couch. I ran a hand up and down my face, peeking through the finger gaps at the miniature house that was my room. Right now, the floor surrounding my couch was a sea of clothes. Not mine. Well, I thought bending down, maybe the silk shirt. I threw onto to back of a chair. Wiping what felt like two-day sleep, I leaned besides my door.

"Who is it?"

"Ava." My hand quickly dropped, my jaw clenched then set itself into its normal position. I glanced to the couch where both my guests were giggling over something, clearly entertaining themselves in my physical absence. I thought I heard a long sigh. "Ava Wellington? From the—"

"I know," did she really think I couldn't recall her name? I looked to the couch in a haze… Yeah, I thought drawing a blank on both their names, point taken. "Just… give me a minute." I walked over to the couch throwing the clothes at them. "It's a wrap girls, I've got tutoring now. You have to go." Too bad there wasn't a stairway down into the street from my balcony. They were going to have to leave through my door and Ava was going to see them. Oh well.

Before opening the door for them to leave, I had the decency of putting on my shirt. I even got a few buttons done before…

"That's it, I'm leaving." My hand lurched for the knob pulling it back. What I saw beyond it was a taller girl the ones leaving and waving at me. Her eyebrow perked, she followed them with her eyes as they disappeared down the stairway. "You could've said you were busy doing them, we could have canceled. I wouldn't like you to starve for one whole day."

"Starve?"

"Two girls just walked out of your… suite-bedroom? That's called greed, gluttony, lust—I think that's about it."

"Three out of seven, could have been worse."

"I'll take your word for it." I scratched my temple for a little while, allowing her passage. She strolled in with a nice stride, confident and strong. Once I turned around I saw her ass—she had a really nice one. When my eyes travelled up, I caught her eying me over her shoulder. "Your shirt's buttoned up wrong." She pointed to the middle of my chest. I glanced down seeing I'd skipped a button. "I guess you forgot our schedule," she started off calmly, even softly. I tried to redo my shirt. "The schedule you insisted we should establish." Her voice got louder with tangible anger then, I looked to her. "Let me break it down for you, superstar," I blinked at the nickname. "I have a busy life. I don't just bum around in my bedroom all day. I have things to do, places where I really need to be or I'll get in deep trouble with my Mom. I don't want that. I have enough stuff to deal with as it is. So next time I come around, which if I need to remind you is after tomorrow, you better remember."

I don't think she appreciated my smile. I couldn't help it. I didn't think she'd be this bold, straight forward girl. I'd seen her as shy and closed off. I bet that was because she had been in enemy territory. It didn't affect me anymore. I'd been in and out of shrinks offices too often.

"Duly noted," I walked 'till I was standing in front of her.

Ava shifted her weight, the slight transparent top on her gave me a just enough to fantasize over.

"Eyes up here, buddy." I met her chocolate eyes as requested. "What did you tell the swim-suit models?" She walked around the suite cautiously like something would bite her soon enough.

"That I has tutoring." I didn't need that in the slightest, but they didn't know.

"What, are you ashamed to be going to a shrink?" Ava mocked. "Because everyone knows you have a history with therapy." Of course they did.

"I'm not ashamed of anything." I really wasn't, not after I'd been caught naked on camera trying to run away from a house by the suburbs. "I just don't want everyone to know about this arrangement."

Ava's brown eyebrow lifted.

"Are you saying you don't want people to know you get along with people who aren't as rich as you?" Huh, no. I wasn't. My parents might hate it if they found out. They thought anyone who didn't have our millionaire-status was a gold-digger.

"My parents wouldn't like it. I don't have anything against this." I saw her meet my eyes and nod. For a minute, I thought she understood where I was coming from. But why wouldn't she tell her parents? I was a great catch—if you didn't mind letting your daughter run wild with the guy who usually makes the paper because of a less than thrilling reason. "You can put your stuff on the table. It's not going to disappear." I chuckled when her cheeks became a little tainted. "What did you tell, Lawrence?"

"Your bow-wearing butler?" Ava spun on her heal when she placed the jacket on the of a dining chair and her bag on its seat.

"Yes, him." I tried not to shake my head. The dress code was ridiculous, but my Mother enforced it.

"Nothing, I only said I was here to see you and he gave the directions to your apartment up here." She leaned on the back of the chair, bracing herself with both hands. "I think he was under the impression we were going to do something else, like what you were doing with your friends."

"They're not friends." I put in. "We should meet somewhere else after today. If you start coming around frequently the paparazzi are going to catch wind of it."

"Right, because it would be seriously freaky for Thomas Harrington to have the same girl over and over." Ava smiled a little too bitterly.

I don't think she liked me all that much. it was one of the reasons why I had accepted this more than unusual procedure. She didn't show herself melting because of my looks, wits and charm. Ava seemed immune to all that. I wanted to know her better, besides, I had nothing better to do. School was easy enough when I kept my attention span. What I'd been doing with those two before she arrived was nothing but me trying to kill some time.

"I was just wasting my time with those girls. I got a lot of time on my hands."

"I don't so, how is this going to work?"

"We talk."

"We're already doing that, I don't think it's getting us anywhere—besides, I'm not sure I want to know more than I already do about you."

"Don't believe all you read."

"I don't. I'm talking about what I've seen and heard here." Ouch, that one stung. I tilted my head to the side, studying her.

"You don't like me, do you?" I asked with a grin she was able to match nearly perfectly, even if I felt it was a fake.

"I wouldn't say I don't like you, but I'm not going to skip home to write about you in my diary."

"You have a diary?" I asked with mocking excitement, like a total ass. She rolled her eyes. "So, why don't you like me?" Ava gave me a sort of exasperated look. "What? We're here to talk. Talk,"

Ava flung her brown hair over her shoulders—I noticed something. Both times I'd seen her, I thought her was completely and utterly straight. It wasn't. It was imperceptibly wavy, straight from its roots to its tips that reached two inches below her neck.

"I don't like guys like you." She stated, arms crossed firmly over her chest. Was she upset 'cause I stared at her boobs? If she was waiting for an apology she wasn't getting one. If this girl didn't want guys to stare down her cleavage maybe she shouldn't wear teasing clothes like those. "Did you listen?" she lowered her face to my eyes when I kept looking somewhere else, like the ground, thinking.

"Huh…?" I muttered. Ava's cheeks were getting redder. Wasn't this fun? I didn't have to do much and I got her all flushed. "You were saying something?" I should feel like a jerk, and maybe when she left I would beat myself up for behaving like this, but she wasn't making this easy. Not the talking part, at least, but the teasing was another thing.

She stepped a little closer and I stood my ground. Was she wearing heals? I stole a fleeting glance at her feet. Nope. Converses, her height was all-naturel. Damn this girl had a wicked height. Last time I checked, my height rounded 6'1'' and she was up to my nose. Wow, she was one of the tallest girls I'd ever seen. My Mom would sure love someone like her…

"Guys like you use girls like tools. You use them and throw them away like they were nothing." She was making sure I listened this time around. Her finger was damned close to poking my eye out. "You have no respect for anyone or anything. You think you own the world and everyone in it. That's why I don't like you, Thomas." She smiled sweetly and I got the feeling this girl might have a double personality. One minute she was tearing me apart with her gaze, the next she was smiling at me like I'd just saved her kitten from a tree.

When she pushed past me, rather gracefully—not even touching our shoulders—I understood she hadn't been happy at me. She was heading for the open glass doors, leading into the balcony. Unsure of what was so appealing, I followed. She didn't stop to examine and 'wow' over my rectangular pool. She walked past the little table my Mother had insisted on, and placed her hands on stone rim, looking out to the massive skyscrapers. My house had three floors. The last one, consisted of this suite and balcony. This was all mine. I didn't even need to go downstairs to the kitchen when I wanted to eat, I had a kitchen here. When I reached her side and saw the marveled look in her pupils I frowned.

"What's so interesting?" Ava broke focus from the skyline, turning to me.

"You're kidding, right?" She asked with glee in her eyes when staring off into the view. "This view is stunning. It's… really something."

"Really?" I asked joining her in building-watching. I was waking up to the same thing since I was thirteen, it might have held intrigue, beauty, and wonder back then when I was younger and everything in life still felt mysterious, now, five years later, it was nothing special to me.

"How can you not see it?" Ava faced me with admiration mashed with disbelieve. "If I had this view over my house I'd be staring at all day." Her house…

"Where do you live, anyway?" I asked leaning on my arm.

"Not in the Upper East side." She snorted momentarily. "But my Mom wouldn't mind. She practically lives inside the stores when she has a day off."

"What does she do?" Ava was opening her mouth, but closed it. I wasn't interested in the skyline, but I sure was interested in her. Her hand fiddled with the edge of her top, she looked more nervous now, not the confident, unafraid girl who had walked through my threshold about twenty minutes ago.

"She's a doctor." She said finally. I guess sharing wasn't one of her strong points either. But I didn't see how sharing her Mother's profession was a big deal. "I'd ask what your Mom does but I already know." She didn't say it with excitement. Mentioning our Mothers didn't seem to get her in a good mood. Well, I understood if she had issues with her folks, I did, too.

"What about your Dad?" The fiddling continued. I wondered if she did when the nerves became too much.

"He teaches Archeology at NYU." I nodded. Both her parents had good jobs. "I live in Brooklyn." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on hard rock. We were silent for the smallest moment until she broke it. "Why did you accept this?"

My blue eyes shone into hers momentarily before I shrugged.

"I don't know. I didn't want to talk, but I didn't want my parents on my case…" I trailed off shrugging once more. I didn't want to admit she was interesting or that I had felt her fear inside Lydia's office and cared to help her out. I wouldn't say that. "Why did you?"

She presented me with a tight smile.

"I didn't have much of choice, did I? You said yes, and Ms. Coleman wasn't letting me go without drilling the choice into my brain. I didn't have a choice." Ava tucked a strand behind her ear. A little while after, she checked her cell phone and began walking inside. The insecurity seemed to have disappeared. "I have to go." She explained picking up her things, not even giving me a side glance.

"What, no GUCCI today?" I asked a little playfully. She winced like I'd burned her and quickly I dropped the tiny grin. I don't know what I said that offended her so much but I didn't want to have more weight on my conscience. "Where do you live?" I walked her to the door of my suite.

"Don't you listen to anything? Br—"

"Brooklyn, yeah I got that part. I wanted to know where in Brooklyn. I told you we can't meet here every time." This time around, I thought she was going to make like a bunny and hop from my balcony in hopes to get away from me and the question. "What?"

"You… you can't come to my house." She shook her head. The nervous edge returned full force.

"Why not?" I rolled my eyes. "I'm not going to rob you or anything." Shouldn't I be more worried about that? Not that I was. I couldn't care less if the house was emptied out.

Ava scowled potently at me. For a second, I thought she might slap my whole face. She didn't, though. Instead, she took a breath along with a minute to get her patience back in place.

"My parents can't know about you, Thomas. My house is off limits. Find another place, just not my place."

"What's wrong with your parents knowing about me?" Could you blame me for being curious? Though, I could already guess why.

Ava shifted and her pose could've belonged to a model. This girl definitely had talent for modeling. Maybe I should tell her to consider? I don't think she knew what she had; she just seemed a perfect fit for the role.

"They can't know because… because you're you and everyone knows you're not a golden boy." So I was right, and I understood. I wasn't a golden boy and never would be. I did what I wanted.

"Got it, your parents don't know about me and mine don't know about you." I stated putting us in the same page. A wave of relief washed over her. I chuckled, wondering what bad thing her parents would do to her if they found out she was hanging with me.

"So where are we going to go?"

"I don't know, yet." I pulled out my phone handing it over to her. She looked at the piece of technology like it was an alien life form. "Give me your number, I'll text you when I find a new place." I explained, trying for a friendly smile.

Ava nodded taking the cell from my palm. When I was waiting for her to finish, she mumbled: "You're trying too hard."

My smile flattered.

"Trying what too hard?"

"That smile," she handed back the phone, placing it in my outstretched palm. I looked dazedly at her. "I think you've been hanging around phony people a lot." I blinked when she opened the door on her own, closing it softly on her way out.

No one had ever said that my smile was a fake.

Ava's POV

I closed the front door praying that Mom wasn't home yet. She hadn't called so she was probably at the Clinic. Dad wasn't a problem since he had to teach classes in the afternoon or help with research in his area.

"Mom?" I called just to be sure. No answer. "Great." I sighed dropping my guard now that I was certain no one would see me. I skipped up the stairs and—I stopped when I was going down the hallway. My bedroom was the last door on the left. In front of mine, was Mia's or... it had been Mia's. No one used it since she passed away. I hadn't gone inside until two weeks ago... and after what I did my parents had it under lock and key, afraid I'd finish the job. They wanted to preserver what was left of Mia's things. I don't know why they even had that need. Mia was alive, wasn't she? I mean, they turned me into her. All that was left was a plastic surgery to my face. No, I told myself, don't think about that. Don't. Anger management.

Unable to stick around in the hallway much longer I slid into my bedroom, closing the door. The first thing I did was tore my jacket, then my top—going into the ends of my closet for the baggy T-shirts I wore at home. I pulled one out randomly and when I slipped it on I read what was plastered on it: Do you know that amazing feeling when you understand math? Me neither. I had a lot more of these T-shirts each one had a phrase, they had been a little obsession a while back. That was over now. Now, I was only allowed to buy nice looking clothes, fashionable and, normally, pricey. My Mom's idea of course, I had to go along. The alternative was suffering though a guilt trip. It wasn't how I enjoyed spending my days. I kicked off my white Converses and laid on bed, staring up at the ceiling. I was pretty sure I had Calculus to catch up with, but I didn't feel in the mood for homework. Besides, I was scraping by with a C minus, it was the best I could considering I missed so many classes thanks to my early photo sessions. I was glad those seemed to be getting less recurring. My agent was my Mother and it sucked. I wish she was still working at the Hospital, that way she wouldn't have so much free time on her hands. Maybe then she would let me go back to being a B student, instead of a C or D, and sometimes that was only because I was great at Track. My Father was submissive to my Mom because she suffered a great loss. All I wanted to do was yell at them: The great loss was two years ago. Can we all just move on?

But I knew better, I knew the answer. I didn't need to be flooded by guilt, to be reminded constantly... the phone vibrated. I retrieved it from my pocket. One glimpse at the ID caller made me brace myself, putting on the poker voice.

"Marcy, what's up, girl?" My voice sounded like a cheer leader cheering for their team, my face looked like I had just ate a lemon.

"OMG, Ava, you'll never guess what happened today!" No, but that was only because I wasn't going to try.

"Ooh, you have to tell me?" I put on my gossip tone trying my best not to fake a failing in the connection.

"Jessie asked me out! Can you believe it? I mean, I'm like so hot but he dated Jenna, now he wants to date me? That means I'm like, in the same league she is. Oh she if going to be so jealous when me and him start dating." She giggled like a demented seven year old.

Honestly, just because Jessie asked her out didn't mean they would start dating. Okay, maybe they would, because Jessie didn't ask someone out unless he had less than good intentions about it. By that I meant—

"Can you imagine if I lost my virginity to him?" Yeah, I meant that. "Wouldn't that be awesome? I would have lost it to the same guy who Jenna, the most popular girl at our high school, lost it to!" No, no that was not cool. Where in the world was that a good thing? I sure hoped her parents weren't there to ear it... Why did most girls think losing their virginity to the most popular guy in school was amazing? They were players, they didn't care about them. They only cared about accumulating points—in this case girls—like they were trophies so their status as males would go up and up. I thought it was a cry for help, like they had something to prove to the world. "But you know that's the usual for me. So, tell me about your day, any new magazine?"

Apparently Marcy had continued talking, what she said had been completely lost to me.

"Huh, no. I was trying to get some late homework done. I can't focus, though. This sucks." I wasn't really talking about the homework, well it was included in the pile, but mostly about my whole life.

"I know what you mean, Bryce, my tutor, tried to teach me the last problems and I couldn't get a single one right." Maybe because she'd been distracted by Jessie's proposal. Marcy was still going on about how Jessie was smoking when I heard the door open downstairs. "Hey, were you listening?"

"Yeah, sure. Look my Mom's home I think she wants my help with some groceries..."

"Oh, okay then! I get it go on and do your good deed for the day."

"See you tomorrow." I sounded enthusiastic before hanging up. Mom hadn't called and the fridge was full. No groceries needed to be brought in, it was a good way to make Marcy hang p without blowing my two year phenomenal work. When I made it outside my room, I wish I didn't have to meet her. She was going to start chatting up some fashion event or maybe a new collection being launched for this Spring... but I didn't have a choice, it wouldn't be long before she called for me. "Hey, Mom." I mumbled entering the kitchen.

My Mother glimpsed over her shoulder shortly, she was finishing washing an apple. Her eyes showed something close to remorse when she saw me, but I knew what that was for. It was meant to remind me what I'd done, to make feel bad over everything. I got that look every day, it didn't matter what hour we were on. It never failed to show up. It was gone soon, though as always.

"Baby, I'm so glad you're home." She chirped. Where else would I be? Sure I made a detour to go over Thomas' house for our first get together but if I hadn't, I would've been here. It wasn't like I had any friends—real ones. "I bought some new fashion catalogs on the way home," she explained drying off the apple, placing it on the table while shrugging off her gray suit. "I have something very special to tell you." Oh please, no, don't let it be another session...

"What is it?" I mimicked the tone from earlier, when I was speaking with Marcy.

She took the top magazine from the pile of three and flipped onto a specific page. When she turned it over, I blanched. Maybe in my Mother's grass eyes I appeared speechless because of happiness, but the truth was, I was freaking out of my mind. I just wanted to say: Stop the presses! I can't be in a fashion magazine, I can't! But sure enough, it was me. The outfit didn't ring a bell. I tried on so many in one session it was hard to keep track of. This one, was a dress colored like a bumble bee. Yellow, black stripes. It wasn't ugly... but it wasn't something I'd wear normally on the street. The shoes were flats, they said I was taller enough as it was. The two posses I was showing myself were more innocent than provocative which I was very glad for. My hair was done in a bun, resting high on top of my head. Great, simply amazing. I made my first magazine.

"I knew you'd be happy! That's why I didn't tell you they decided to pick you for this piece. Isn't it lovely? Your Dad is going to be so proud." God kill me now.

"Oh, Mom it's... so, so great... I... I don't even know what to say or..." I had to stop talking so I could remember how to breathe. This was hard. I needed an excuse to barricade myself in my room. "I have to tell Marcy! She's going to be so jealous when she finds out." I hugged my Mom when all I wanted to run from her and never look at her again. Her hands patted my back lightly.

When I ran up to my bedroom I locked the door. I swear I just wanted to throw myself off a cliff. This wasn't what I wanted from my life. It never was. I wanted to be a photographer not be photographed. This was so messed up and all because... because of me. And Mia. It couldn't be helped, my feelings for her were never going to change. I hated her, I hated myself. My beat my fist into my pillow when the damned Nokia vibrated in my front pocket. I pulled it out, more than ready to shut it off, I just wanted to be alone.

It wasn't from anyone I knew, though. When I clicked the text open I blinked.

I got a place for us 2 meet. A bar called Paradox. Look it up. - T.

My eyes blinked the tears from my apparent big achievement. This was from Thomas. I hurried listing his number under the name of Trip like he liked being called. Then I stared at the text. A bar? Oh what the hell, maybe I could have some fun over there. I nibbled on my manicured nail, screw if it got ruined. I was supposed to meet him after tomorrow... It was going to be hell hanging around anyone who knew about my photos. Thomas wasn't going to know. He was a guy, guys didn't read fashion magazines. The only thing he cared about was spending his time screwing up his life, sleeping with models, and ticking me off. My Mother could never know about Thomas, he was a part of my life I would have to keep locked away—a secret.