Page 44 of Knight

“Yeah. I am.” Christian looks at me from the driver’s seat and I wish I felt as confident as he sounds. “Are you?”

Biting my lip, I still haven’t recovered from what I learned at MOCHA. “It’s not like I have a good reputation around here.”

“Believe me, my parents are way too aloof to know about what’s happening in Eden.” If he’s trying to reassure me with that classic charming look on his face, he’s making it easy.

While I would have loved to be at home in my bed next to Willow, she didn’t give me that option. Hanging out with the cool freshmen, and the Supreme Squad means Willow’s hardly ever home, including tonight. I haven’t even decided if I should tell her what I know, so it’s for the better. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to be alone. Not after what I learned.

“Alright, let’s do it,” I exhale, grasping the last bit of courage I can find. “And, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Christian opens his side of the door and I follow. “My parents can be intense.”

I’m in awe as Christian leads me to the front door. If Damien’s house is a miniature castle, and Isaac’s is a modern masterpiece, Christian’s is a combination of both. His home is two-storeys surrounded by greenery and made of what looks like tanned stone. It almost feels like I’ve entered a fairytale. Even with the dying trees and scattered leaves, it’s kind of magical, shrubs lining our path on the way to large castle-like doors. Once he pushes through, I’m floored again. These people have homes that are way too big for their own good. I mean, people are living in tent cities for fucks sake.

The front entrance alone can be its own apartment and while it’s earthier, homier than Damien’s white marbled foyer, it’s still over-the-top. But it wouldn’t be Eden if it wasn’t.

“I can’t believe you!” There’s commotion coming from the room ahead, a chandelier flickering with faux candles above us. Clanks and slams follow before I hear loud yelling in Spanish. Christian’s unfazed when he starts leading me towards the staircase.

“Uh, is everything alright?” I ask.

“Yeah, why?” He stops halfway up when he realizes my hesitation, his hand on the wrought-iron rail.

“Sounds like a war down there.”

“It’s always a war,” Christian mumbles. “C’mon, they won’t even know you’re here. I’ll throw on Superbad.”

Heels clack into the foyer before he continues on his way.

“Carallo …”

When I look over my shoulder a woman stands at the foot of the steps. She’s in a tight tank top, pants that stick to her curves. She flips her dark wavy hair over her shoulder, eyeing me from head to boots with bright brown eyes. “And who is this, mijo?”

Christian’s shoulders drop in front of me before he turns around, “Ma, this is Jo, we were just—”

“You bring a girl to the house and you don’t introduce her to your mother?” She lets out a hand with long sparkly nails, a stack of rings on her olive fingers.

Christian sighs, a hand on the back of his head. “Jo, this is my mom.”

“Bet you didn’t think that, right?” I take her hand as she winks. “Please, tell me I don’t look a day over forty and call me Bianca. Mom sounds old now that my boy’s a handsome young man.” She reaches for his cheeks and when he pulls away, I catch a small smirk.

Bianca doesn’t look a day over forty and if she hadn’t forced an introduction I’d think Christian had another sister. I’ve almost forgotten my manners. I’m not used to the adults in Eden being this welcoming. “Thanks for having me,” I say.

She blinks as if she’s surprised before a smile spreads across her face. I return it when she says, “I haven’t seen Doc Martens like that since the nineties.” That’s legit the first compliment I got on my boots since I’ve been here. Bianca’s not so bad. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. Don’t let my son sweet talk you into anything stupid.”

“Ma!” Christian groans to which she laughs, her teeth as sparkling straight as her son’s.

“It’s nice to meet who?” A tall, jacked guy comes into the foyer next and I know that face anywhere. It’s as square as Christian’s, his body tall and wide. His green eyes are easy to spot from across the room, so are his tanned, bulging biceps. He’s got a bit more of a receding hairline than I remember, thick hair gelled back.

“Hugo,” falls out of my mouth and I hope there isn’t any drool coming out with it. Hugo Perez in the flesh. My dad and I used to watch him on TV when I was a little girl, and here he is, right in front of me. I feel special. I’m sure people don’t usually get to see Hugo in his hoodie and jeans.

“Mind your business, Hugo,” Bianca snips.

“He’s my son, he is my business,” his voice booms but Bianca’s not having it and I’m starting to see where Allie gets her sass from.

“If he’s your son then act like a father and be around!”

“This is why Bianca. This is why!”

Christian groans, taking my hand in his again as his parents start going at each other in Spanglish. Is this the family drama Nate eluded to? Sure my parents bickered every once in a while, but not like this.

---