All I've Never Wanted (10 page)

"Most people live for the spotlight."

Like you and your friends, 
I wanted to say, but didn't. "Not me. It's too troublesome." My mouth thinned. "As I've learned all too well the past week."

The light turned green, and Carlo pressed on the gas, bypassing the particularly slow Lexus in front of us. He was silent for a while. "I feel like I should apologize for that."

I let out a sigh. "It's not really your fault." I couldn't believe these words were coming out of my mouth, but I meant them. Carlo had never personally hurt me, physically or otherwise. The only people I blame are the Valesca lemmings and of course, Roman Fiori.

"Not directly. But indirectly…" He paused, then seemed to shut down again. "Of course, I make it a point not to interfere with Roman's affairs." He pulled up in front of my house. I could see my mom pacing nervously in the living room window, and I winced. I was going to get a verbal beating for sure.

"Thanks for giving me a ride. I really appreciate it," I said, opening the door.

Carlo gazed at my house, taking in the small but tidy lawn, the red stucco roof, and the well-kept if modestly priced Toyota in the driveway. My father’s promotion meant we could get a nicer car, but my mom was really attached to the Camry for some reason. "How many people live in this house?"

"Just my parents and myself." I frowned. "Why?"

"You can fit three people in there?" He sounded shocked.

I let out a huff. Here I was, thinking he was actually pretty down-to-earth, and he had to go say something like that. "Of course it can," I said crossly. "We're more than comfortable."

"If you say so." He sounded unconvinced, but as he looked at me, a faint glimmer of that strange, unidentifiable look I saw earlier crept back into his eyes. "Well, it's certainly been an eye-opening night."

"I suppose." I was lingering, I knew, but I wasn't eager to go inside. Mainly it was because I didn't want my mom yelling at me, but I was also surprisingly disappointed to be saying goodbye to Carlo. I was almost certain our sort-of bonding time was a one-time experience. "Well, good night."

Carlo gave me a faint smile. "Good night." With that, he pulled out of the driveway and sped off.

Apparently, he really had been driving a lot more cautiously with me in the passenger seat.

I stood in the driveway for a moment, mulling over the day's strange events. My life had become a lot more troublesome, but at least it wasn’t boring.

Although, to be honest, excitement can be overrated.

CHAPTER 6

I shut the door behind me and smiled weakly at my mom, who looked equal parts angry, relieved, and for some reason, nervous.

“Are you ok?” was the first question she asked me.

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“Are you sure? No broken bones, no muggings, nothing like that?”

I sighed. “No.”

“Good. Then WHERE WERE YOU? I’ve been sick with worry! Maya, you know never to turn off your phone, especially when you’re late. You have no idea what I thought happened!”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, ashamed. “But I…uh, broke my phone my accident.” I held out the pieces as evidence, and filled her in with a very abbreviated, very modified version of what had happened.

“Fine, but you should've been more careful, Maya.” She seemed appeased though, which surprised me. Normally my mom did not let me off the hook that easily. “Well, dinner’s just about ready, so come eat.”

I followed her into the kitchen, which also doubled as a dining room, and started setting the table while she put the finishing touches on dinner.

I had just put down the last fork when I heard a key turn in the front door, and a moment later, my dad walked in, jacket off and tie loosened. He looked tired but his face lit up when he saw us.

“Daddy!” I grinned and ran over to give him a huge hug.

Ok, so yes, I was a huge daddy’s girl. Sue me.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?”

“It was good.” No need to make him worry. “How was work?”

“Boring as all hell,” he replied laughingly, walking over to give my mom a quick peck on the cheek.

“Yeah, right.” I scrunched up my nose. My dad loved his job. He had wanted to be an architect his whole life, and now he was one of the best in the state.

As we settled in at the table, I stared at my parents, feeling unbelievably lucky that they were still together and happy in a town where so many families were plagued with divorce, sordid affairs, mistresses, and children that were viewed as props more than anything else.

Plus, the way they had gotten together was so romantic.

I let out a soft sigh as I thought about it. My mom and dad had met at a street festival in San Francisco. He’d been an undergraduate at Berkeley the time, while she’d been working her family’s Chinese herbal store. My mom initially resisted his advances, but my dad remained dogged in his pursuit until he finally succeeded. The two fell in love, and my dad proposed four years later, on the anniversary of their first meeting. They’d gotten married seven months later and had me practically before the honeymoon phase was over. Now, after almost twenty years, they were still very much in love.

I played with the spaghetti on my plate. Though I didn’t particularly want a boyfriend right now, I fantasized about finding that one true love someday. I was a total sucker for cheesy, over-the-top romance.

“Maya?”

I snapped back down to earth and found myself facing my parents’ quizzical looks.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“You’ve been spacing out so much lately.” My mom’s tone was gently reprimanding. “Did you hear what I just said?”

I shook my head.

She exchanged glances with my dad. “Your grandmother’s coming down next weekend. She’s going to be staying with us for a bit.”

I nearly choked on the glass of water I was sipping. “What?” I gasped between coughs, hoping I had just heard wrong.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t. That much was clear when my mom repeated the statement.

“Oh,” I said, my voice filled with dismay.

I noticed my dad didn’t look particularly thrilled either. Despite his meticulousness at work, he’d always been a bit scatterbrained at home, which had always put him at odds with my control-freak grandmother.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my grandmother and all, but she could be a little…overbearing. Basically, she’s your typical Asian grandma in every sense except she wanted me to get married and have babies very, very soon. Not that she wanted any grandchildren
now,
but she’s been bugging me about getting a boyfriend forever, figuring by the time I graduated college, we would have dated for a sufficient amount of time and therefore could get married. If she had her way, I would have a ring on my finger the second I walked across the stage and accepted my university diploma.

Unfortunately, my grandmother wasn’t exactly stupid, and she could see I had absolutely no intention or desire to get a boyfriend anytime soon. Instead of being dissuaded, she it upon herself to be a matchmaker and tried to set me up with every boy my age who met her standards. Every phone call and visit from her had been peppered with the mention of Jared or Tom or Wentworth. There had even been one named Sigmund.

Now, I am sure Sigmund—who I’ve never met, thank God—is a lovely boy, but if I
were
to date someone, he sure as hell would
not
be named after what I considered a rather whacked-out psychologist who spent way too much time thinking about sex.

“Anyway, it should be fun,” my mom chirped brightly, obviously trying to be optimistic. “It’ll be family bonding time.”

“Yeah. Fun.” My shoulders slumped as I thought about coming home to my grandmother trying to force yet another mathematical genius/musical prodigy/future Bill Gates on me.

One thing was clear. I needed a plan, and I needed one fast.

*              *              *

“Yes, I received the package.” Roman strode into his bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him. “Just in time too, or you’d have been fired.”

Without another word, he snapped his phone closed and stared at the manila envelope in his hands. In it was everything he needed to know about Maya Lindberg, from her family’s annual income to what she ice cream flavor she liked best.

Maybe there would be something in there about why he couldn’t stop thinking about her even though she was more annoying than a splattered bug on his windshield.

“Screw it,” he muttered, opening the envelope with unnecessary violence.

As he scanned the papers though, a small, smug smile slowly made its way onto his face. Of course! He should’ve known. Nobody could be that resilient without some motivation.

“So, you’re a scholarship kid,” he murmured, a new plan forming in his head. Everything was so clear and simple now. If she was needy enough to get a scholarship, then clearly she was strapped for cash. She probably thought the best way to ease her money worries was to stand out and get the attention of the richest guy in school—aka, himself.

It was actually a pretty clever plan.

Roman narrowed his eyes. If that was the case, which he was sure it was, then making her surrender had just gotten a whole lot easier…

*              *              *

“I’m so screwed, V.” I flopped down on my bed and sighed heavily into the phone, wishing I could just transform into someone else until it was time to go to college. “I have enough problems at school without having to worry about my grandmother’s matchmaking. What am I going to do?”

Venice let out a loud sniffle, obviously still recovering from the flu. “When is she coming again?”

“Next weekend.”

“And she’s staying for how long?”

I let out another sigh. “My mom said ‘a bit’. I have no idea what that means.”

“Hmmm…”Venice sounded thoughtful. “Well, I think the solution is pretty obvious.”

I immediately sat up straight. “Really?” I asked eagerly. “What’s the solution?”

“Just have someone pretend to be your boyfriend!”

My face fell in disappointment. “Venice, can you come up with a plausible solution? How am I supposed to find a fake boyfriend? Everyone hates me!”

“Well…they don’t
hate
you…”

I snorted. “Yeah, uh…you weren’t at school this past week.” The instant the words left my mouth, I regretted it. I didn’t want to make Venice feel guilty for not being there. I mean, it’s not like she could help it—she had the
flu.

Venice was quiet for a moment. “I know,” she said, sounding slightly tearful. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you out, really! I know it must’ve been hell for you but—“

“V, it’s ok,” I interrupted, feeling quite guilty myself. She was a good friend, and I didn’t want her to think otherwise. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

Venice sniffled. “I know you’re strong Maya, but—I just—“ She let out a loud sigh. “You’re—you’re not going to withdraw from school, are you?”

“No way in hell!” I answered vehemently. “I’m not going to let Roman Fiori have that satisfaction.”

“Well, if you survived this long, I’m sure they’ll get bored soon,” Venice pointed out, sounding hopeful and  relieved. “And then it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“I guess. Right now, I’m more worried about my grandmother. You’ve never met her, but let me tell you, Asian grandmothers are not to be messed with.”

“Just take my advice and find a fake boyfriend!”

“Like who?”

She paused. “Well…that cute guy from the party, James, asked for your number…”

I was horrified. “You want me to ask James to be my fake boyfriend? I barely even know him!”

“So? It’s not like you’re really dating! Although you guys would make a cute couple.”

I rolled my eyes. Venice never got tired of trying to set me up with someone.

“By the way, did he ever call you?”

“Oh. Uh…yeah,” I admitted reluctantly. I still haven’t told her about my little adventure with Roman and Carlo today.

“And?! What happened? Give me all the details!” Venice gushed, sounding completely recovered at the mention of the phone call.

I had no choice but to recount the story of what happened this afternoon. Knowing Venice, she was going to find out anyway.

“Wait, you went to Roman Fiori’s
house?”
she squealed when I’d finished. “
And
Carlo Tevasco gave you a ride home? Maya, that’s great!”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it.

Sometimes, Venice just amazed me. She really did. “What part of being kidnapped is great?”

“That part where your kidnapper is the most gorgeous guy on earth,” she retorted. “Hey, maybe Roman or Carlo can pretend to be your boyfriend!”

I almost choked on my own spit at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea. “Yeah, right,” I snorted. “First of all, need I remind you Roman and I don’t actually get along? He’s the reason why I’ve spent all my allowance money on dry cleaning! Plus, and you can quote me on this, the day Roman Fiori becomes my boyfriend—whether real or fake—is the day hell freezes over.”

*              *              *

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

I shot a pointed look at the petite brunette who had been glaring at me for the past half hour, and she turned away with a huff.

Weird. Actually, this whole week had been weird.

I came to school Monday expecting more abuse, but instead I’d gotten…nothing. Oh, sure, there’d been stares and whispers, but there had been no pranks, no nasty messages scrawled on my locker, nothing thrown on me.

It actually creeped me out a lot more than any snake or thrown food could.