Exotic

~ it's complicated ~

"How's your week been, Miles?"

Alba had moved her chair around to the side of her desk, so the desk didn't sit as an obstacle between us. She was dressed in a red blazer and bell-bottom pants, her delicate fingers laced together on one knee. Her nails were painted a deep navy, complementing the whole ensemble beautifully. Her cheeks were dusted in highlighter which complimented her complexion, and I was desperate to ask her what brand she used. I was far more eager to discuss her effortlessly elegant style than delve into Tuesday. But whenever I diverted, Alba pulled me firmly back on track.

I flicked the Newton's cradle. "Pretty bad."

"I heard you were present for a fight?"

I shifted my focus back to her. "I didn't fight anyone."

"I know," I disliked how obvious her tone was. She might have well ended it with no, duh. "But how did you feel about it?"

"Worried for my friend," I said truthfully. "Satisfied. I thought the other guy kind of had it coming."

"Why would that be?"

I sighed guiltlessly. "That wasn't a hint into my psyche. He was being disgusting. And he called Aaron a... slur. Max can take a sledging pretty well, but he has short fuse when it comes to family. Anyone who wants to rile him up uses Aaron."

"Aaron and Maximillian Sanchez?" Alba asked, and I nodded to confirm. "They're good boys. Good friends?"

"Amazing friends," I emphasised. "Have you... do you see them? Have they ever come to you?"

Alba smiled tightly. "You know I can't say if they have. Do you have any other friends?"

I thought about Zsa Zsa. Jamie. Most people I worked with would call me a friend. But even though Alba knew more about my life than most, and it wasn't awful having a person bound to secrecy to rant at, I wasn't about to reveal the gory details of my semi-illegal nightlife to the school councillor.

I thought about Caleb as well. He'd texted me that morning.

Better?

My response had been packed with all the allure and ingenuity of a fourth-grader on MSN.

better.

Alba took note of my hesitance. "You don't need to name names if that would make you more comfortable."

"It's not that," I assured her. "Well, it kind of is. My life would over if I... you don't need to hear it."

"I'm here for you to talk about anything, Miles," Alba reminded me. "School, family, love life..."

I snorted loudly. Alba tilted her head, obviously catching on.

"You need to know that whatever you say to me outside what we established in our first session, I'm not going to tell anyone. Not anyone at school, not anyone socially, not even Rory," she continued. "Whatever is plaguing you, it obviously goes beyond what's happening at home. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No," I said quickly.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

I rested my head on my fist. Alba waited as I thought, long and hard, before opening my mouth. "There's a guy I... like, and he knows I like him but nothing's ever going to happen between us. He's made that much clear. But sometimes he does stuff to make me think I stand a chance, and then he'll ignore me for days, and... yeah. That's my love life."

Talking about such things, even without invoking Caleb's name, felt like I was letting a dark secret. Our pact had apparently evolved from something with strict rules to a treaty. If I was half as vindictive as I'd pretended to be that night, the second he'd let me in that his sister knew about Sephora, I would have been on my way to Crescendo to get the damning evidence. And if he disliked me as much as he claimed, he wouldn't have called me back, twice, the night before to talk me through a panic attack out of the goodness of his heart.