Page 16 of Hunter

I watch him shake his head and roll his eyes, all the while he heads in the direction of where Jake is wiping down tables ready for the evening.

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Daniel lied; it wasn’t a day of shopping; it was an entire week! Don’t get me wrong, the stylist was a lovely lady called Charlotte, but my God, I’ve never had to endure this sort of torture for more than an hour tops. Alas, I thought the shopping would be the worst part of this ordeal, however, what I didn’t bank on was the number of hours I would have to endure posing with the so-called talent that is Trent Matthews. By the end, I never wanted to set eyes on him ever again. Before he was just rude, now he’s rude and sleazy; I can’t believe girls aspire to be with this sort of asshole.

That being said, the pictures seem to do the trick in terms of garnering attention. Much to Phoenix’s disapproval, we begin to see our couple shots all over magazines and gossip websites. We even appeared on the TV a couple of times – ‘Who is Trent’s Mystery Woman?’, ‘Is she the girl to turn this bad boy good?’, ‘Is marriage on the cards?’ – what a complete farce. Phoenix is in a constant bad mood, which to be fair, isn’t all that different from his normal mood, we just lose a few more glasses. The air turns a little more blue than normal too; he’s worried about me. But he needn’t be because, in my mind, the girl in those photographs isn’t me. It’s just some random chick who I don’t know and don’t really care about.

And then there’s Theo, who also looks uncomfortable whenever he sees one of the magazine spreads. In fact, on more than one occasion, I’ve heard him arguing with Daniel but soon hides his discontent when he realizes that I’m within earshot. He then fakes a smile and tells me, ‘Great job, Louisa, but you must say the minute this gets too much.’ I appreciate his concern, and I’m glad he has someone now; he seems really happy. I don’t know the details of what happened to his fiancée, but from what I do know, it couldn’t have been good. I think it’s great she’s got someone like Theo; someone who is protective without being overbearing, unlike Phoenix.

But here I am working on a Saturday, sitting at some fancy pants, makeshift bar, wearing a pair of tiny black shorts, a lacy halter neck shirt, and a pair of strappy sandals. Apparently, this is the ‘casual’ look that Trent’s girlfriend would wear, even though my hair has been curled, styled, and sprayed. My so-called ‘natural look’ makeup had taken a good hour to complete, and my manicured hands and toes were painted with French tips. It all feels beyond ridiculous but seeing as I’m nursing a glass of overpriced Sangria on somebody else’s dime, I’ll keep my opinions to myself and pretend to be someone I’m not.

Speaking of fake, I’m currently watching Trent posing for shot after shot by the press and his adoring fans. I already did the five minutes I promised to give him before leaving the conceited fool to it. He obviously loves it, and I very much hate it. Daniel met us here at the beginning of this farce of a day but got a phone call and made some excuse to leave me here on my lonesome. No matter, I can admit that with the alcohol and the music playing, I’m beginning to enjoy the show.

You see, I can waste hours people watching, a little habit of mine, one I’ve had since I was a kid who didn’t speak until I was about six years old. The other children thought I was either stupid or just plain weird. But then, so did their parents. They believed I couldn’t hear them when they gossiped in hushed voices - ‘Did you hear what happened to that family?’, ‘Such a shame’, ‘Do you know where they live?’, ‘Don’t mess with her, have you seen her father? Her brother?’ It’s a common mistake, people always assume that if you don’t talk, you obviously can’t hear. I heard plenty and I took it all in. I learned a lot of people’s secrets during that time, and I stored those bad boys in case I ever needed them. As it turns out, during my high school years, Phoenix was more than enough to keep the bullies away. No one messed with Phoenix Flynn; they still don’t.

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Louisa

Past

The bus pulls up at the end of the dirt track from school and Phoenix is in a foul mood; he’s been in trouble at school again. He slings his bag over his back and purposely kicks at the dirt as he walks along, the whole time, muttering things under his breath. I know better than to ask him what’s wrong, so I just follow behind quietly and keep my thoughts to myself.

“Come on, Lou, hurry up!” He shouts back at me, and I feel the heat of wanting to cry because Phoenix is never short with me. He sounded positively furious with me. I run to try and catch up with him but stay firmly behind his back. By the time we reach the bar, Javier is already there, waiting for Phoenix, and looking just as angry as him. They nod at one another as though there’s some secret between them. It’s worrying, but I shake it off when a car drives up behind us, practically forcing me into the bank beside the road.

As soon as Phoenix spots the expensive-looking vehicle, a BMW with tinted windows, he starts running up toward Javier who throws his bike to the side. Two older-looking boys leap out of the car, preppy-looking guys who certainly don’t go to our school. Within minutes, all four of them are on each other, punching, kicking, swearing, and threatening to kill one another. I scream but no one bats an eyelid; they just keep going at one another.

Phoenix’s right fist is covered in red blood and he’s snarling like an angry dog. Meanwhile, Javier has the other guy on the floor and is beginning to kick him in the stomach, emitting a terrifying laugh when the guy starts howling in pain.

I reach my hands up into my hair, willing myself to think of something…anything to stop this. But a ten-year-old girl isn’t any sort of match for these boys, so I do the only thing I can and run inside to find my dad and one of his barmen. I don’t need to say any words, they can see the torment on my face, the shaky end of my finger when I point outside. They rush out, with Dad clutching the gun he keeps behind the counter. He tells me to stay, which I do because out there is scary, even more scary than this bar at night. I watch from the safety of the window with tears flooding my face, then duck down when I see Dad pointing the barrel of the gun into the sky. He proceeds to shoot three times. They all stop and stare at him, so the barman takes the moment of stillness to separate Phoenix and the boy he’s currently holding up by the neck. Dad then turns angrily on the preppy guys and sneers at them.

“Tarquin and Quentin, or whatever the fuck posh names you have, fuck off before I blow some holes in your nice new wheels!” The rich boys waste no time in getting into their car and leaving in a fog of dust and fumes. “Boys!” he shouts over to Javier and Phoenix. “Get the fuck inside! Hal, call Emilio and tell him his son is here, will ya?”

Hal nods at the same time as Javier and Phoenix look at one another, knowing they are in big trouble. They slowly get to their feet and reluctantly follow Dad inside. When I see Phoenix’s split lip, his bloody fists, and swollen eye, I slap a hand over my mouth to stop the sobs from escaping. He looks horrified by my reaction and tries to reach out for my hand.

“Lou…” he says my name like a wish for me to forgive him, but I shake my head and run.

I run and run, and I don’t stop until I get to Tony’s house. I march inside, just like I have done for the past year or so. Ava had said I no longer needed to use the doorbell because she said I was just like one of her own. I rush inside in a flurry of tears and sobs, desperately trying to find my best friend. Tony is the only boy who can calm me down when Phoenix isn’t around.

I eventually find him in the kitchen where he’s doing his homework while his mother stands outside unpegging washing to bring in before it gets dark. My breathing is so fast, he instantly looks up without me having to say a single word.

“Lou!” he cries, full of concern as he gets up to hold me safely in his arms. “Lou, what happened? Why are you crying?”

I can’t talk for a good long while, even when Ava eventually comes in, but he holds me for as long as it takes for me to calm down.

“Ph-Phoenix and your brother…got into a fight…there was blood…and hitting…and kicking. Daddy h-had to shoot his gun,” I stammer through my sobs. “I hid but when I saw Phoenix, he was all messed up!”

“Mama?” Tony says to her, but she’s already on the phone getting the low-down about what happened from either Emilio or my dad. He squeezes me tighter until Ava eventually finishes the phone call and walks back over to us.

“It’s ok, mija, you stay here for dinner and Tony will look after you, ok?” I look at Tony through blurry eyes and he smiles, nodding his head to encourage me to say yes. It’s all I need to agree; much like I am with Phoenix, I would do anything to make Tony happy. “Good. Tony, take Lou to watch TV and I’ll get you both a nice drink. Lou, it’s just boys being boys, you mustn’t worry yourself.”

By the time dinner is ready, I am much calmer. And the usual deliciousness of Ava’s incomparable cooking is enough to have me momentarily forget what caused me to come running over here. Ava truly is the best cook in the world, and I always savor her meals. It’s the kind of homemade food that makes all your troubles melt away, tonight included. I wonder if my mother made meals like this, or if she had any signature dishes. I could ask Dad, and sometimes I psyche myself up to utter the words, but then I remember how his face looks whenever he looks at her picture, especially when he thinks no one’s there to see him breaking apart. I don’t want to see him having to relive it all again, even if it means I never get the answers I so desperately crave.

After dinner, Tony tries to make me one of his signature ice cream sundaes, but we end up eating most of it before it even hits the glass bowls. We clear up the sticky mess, then head straight to his comic collection where we argue over which is better, Marvel or DC. I like Ironman and Thor, whereas he likes Batman and Wonder Woman - no surprises there!

When Emilio brings home a very sorry-looking Javier, Ava gives him what Tony describes as the ‘mom’ look. I know it well now, for both boys can get into plenty of mischief, though Javier is definitely on the receiving end a lot more than Tony. He’s sent straight to his room in a foul temper, muttering Spanish curses under his breath, which Tony begins telling me the meanings of. That is until he too, receives the ‘mom’ look. Emilio takes pity on his youngest, telling his wife that he was only trying to impress ‘his little corazón’, which has Tony lighting up like a tomato. Emilio then says Tony can come with us to drop me back home.

We sit in the back seat together, staying silent while his dad talks in fast Spanish to someone over the phone.

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