Page 134 of Collided

This is different.

These feelings arereal.

“I…”

She holds up her hand. “How about you hang out with me at my place after school? We can study and you can tell me what you were thinking about.”

I don’t have any reason to decline. Dad has a deadline of eight o’clock. I’ll hopefully be home by then. Until then I can hang out with her and tell Dad that I was at the library. It’s not like he’s going to search for me—or maybe he will since I’ve become his punching bag lately.

“I need to be home before eight,” I tell Marie, hoping she doesn’t ask too many questions.

Instead, she frowns. “Wait? You have a curfew too?”

More like a death threat, if you ask me. “Yeah.”

She rolls her eyes. “Here I thought my dad was the only paranoid one in the town. I have a curfew too. Same as yours. If I’m a second late he looks disappointed, and I hate disappointing my dad.”

“Oh, so he doesn’t… get mad?”

“Mad? No. Never. My dad has never gotten mad at me. Well, there was this one time when—” A dark look crosses her face, and she shuts up. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Marie look like this. “—all he did was lecture me, but that was it.” She recovers quickly.

I wonder what happened. I don’t think she was abused… well… I’ve never seen a mark on Marie, so I don’t think she’s beingabused, but then again, when people want to hide things they do it so well that you’d be surprised.

Look at me. None of the three friends that I have know what happened to me. I don’t blame them for not knowing. I’m glad they don’t. It’s not their burden. I don’t want them to worry about me and try to help me because it’ll all end in vain.

“Anyway, we’ll go to my place after school. Done?”

I give her a nod before going to my next class.

Marie is filthy rich. The kind of rich that competes with Heath on every level.

Like him, she lives in a beautiful mansion. The cobblestone driveway is lined with trees and flower plants and a sprawling garden on one side. A gardener is working on a bush with hedge shears, giving it a definite shape. Two bodyguards in suits linger around the main gate, keeping a watchful eye on us as we move down the driveway.

Parking her car in a huge marble-floor garage with recessed ceiling lights, she gets out. I follow her and stifle a gasp when I see the other luxurious cars.

“C’mon.”

Marie grabs my hand and leads me up the porch steps to the glass door that has an intricate design on it. Swinging it open, she pulls me inside into the foyer. A massive chandelier hangs above, adorned with crystals that bounce off the golden light. Nature paintings, colorful vases, and antique pieces decorate the entrance, setting down the fact that everything here costs thousands and millions.

“Mom. Dad.” Marie calls out while dragging me to the living room that’s as lavish as the rest of the house. Victorian sofa sets sit in the center of the room with a glass table in between them. There are magazines, a vase with fresh flowers, and packs of biscuits on top of it.

Heels click on the floor.

“Marie, you’re home, love.” A feminine voice speaks, and then a tall, slim woman with dark brown hair appears in the doorway. She has light blue eyes that resemble the color of the sky, and facial features that are closely similar to Marie’s. She looks stunning in a beige dress and white heels that click on the marble floor as she makes her way into the room. She’s graceful.

I’m staring at her when Marie meets her halfway with me by her side.

“Mom, this is Hope.” Marie quickly introduces me before I have any time to recover.

Marie’s mom turns to me, and she smiles—much like her daughter, with it reaching her eyes.

“Hope Hanson, the girl who loves reading books, makes bracelets, scores A-plus in every subject, and makesperfectChemistry notes.” She grins. “I feel like I already know you. My daughter has told me everything about you. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Marie’s mom. You can call me Camila, no need to stick with Mrs. Anderson.”

I’m too stunned to speak.

Marie’s mom is a carbon copy of her. No wonder she’s always so positive, smiling, and just a ray of sunshine.

“I… it’s nice to meet you, too,” I sputter out a complete sentence. I should pat myself on the back.

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