07

"YOU NEVER DID answer my question," I say as Chase looks down at his menu.

We're currently sitting in the booth of a diner that Chase practically dragged me to. And I mean that literally. One second I was sitting on my bed, and the next he was forcing me out the door.

He glances up at me and raises an eyebrow. "Which question? You ask a lot, Matthews."

I shrug, "Can't help it. I'm made of questions,"I inform him. "but I'm talking about the fact that you're rich."

"That's an assumption, not a question," he says matter-of-factly. I debate whether or not flipping him off in such a public place would be a good idea or not.

I decide against it, and say, "Fine. Let me rephrase: Are. You. Rich?"

He shrugs lazily, "There are many different meanings to—"

"You know what? Forget I asked," I grumble, looking away from his smirk. Smart-ass. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the waitress coming to take our orders.

"What can I get started for you guys?" She asks, we order and she bobs her head, writing it down. Then she lets us know it'll be out shortly and twists on her heel.

"I'm not rich, Matthews," Chase says, drumming his fingers against the table, once the waitress has left. "I got my car myself. And it took a long damn time."

I nod my head, kind of disappointed by this discovery. Not to be a gold digger, but having a rich fake boyfriend would be pretty fun.

A curious expression takes over his face. "Hey, I have a question for you," he challenges, leaning forward into the table. "Where'd you live before here?"

I freeze almost instantly. I look up quickly, hoping and praying he doesn't see my change in behavior. But with the way his brows are furrowed I hardly believe my own convincing.

I clear my throat. "The...south." I know I'm being suspicious. I know that if I don't give him a real answer he'll continue to be curious. But I can't. I just can't.

"The south?" He says, amusement in his eyes. "Did you talk like this, darlin'?" He says with a southern accent.

I cover my eyes with my hands. "Oh, god, please stop."

"You don't think my accent is bangin'?" I cringe at his words and immediately shake my head.

"That is not an accent. That's a disgrace to society."

He throws his head back and laughs. "Now it's you evading my questions," he says once he's sobered up. "Did you have an accent?"

I shake my head. "Don't you think if I did you would hear it right now?"

He brings his ear closer, "I don't know...I can hear it faintly when you speak," he whistles. "A little twang to your words."

"Twang? I don't have an accent, Rhodes," right? I don't think I do. I mean, my parents don't so surely I don't either.

"Ay-cent," he says, twinging his words. "You so have one, Matthews."

I slap his arm, glaring hard at him. "I do not—"

The waitress returns to our table, placing my basket of fries in front of me and Chase's milkshake on the table.

"Can I get anything else for you?" she asks kindly, and we both shake our heads.

"Alright," I say once the waitress has left. "Did you bring your notebook?"

Chase looks confused for a moment before his expression turns sheepish. "I didn't realize I was supposed to."

I roll my eyes as I dip my fry into the tub of ketchup and pop it into my mouth. "Of course, you didn't."

"In my defense, I didn't know we would be studying here," he slurps down more of his milkshake and I cringe at the sound.

"What else would we be here for? The whole point of going somewhere more lively was so that you could focus," I gesture around the diner and to the steady chatter of those around us.

The diner is very busy for a weekday. There's at least two people at every table. Almost three at every booth.

"Relax, it's only the first day. Think of this as...practice," he suggests, twirling his straw in his cup. He reaches to my basket of fries and grabs one, dipping it into his milkshake. I try not to hurl at the combination.

"Practice?"

"Yeah, practice for dates, you know?"

My face heats up at that. Practice for dates. He means fake dates, right? And why would we go on fake dates if we're alone?

Isn't the whole point to fool the people around us?

Nevertheless, I sigh. "Alright, Rhodes. Woo me."

He clears his throat and throws on an impressive grin. "My, was your dad a thief? Because he must have stolen the stars and put them in your eyes," he says, placing his chin into his eyes palm.

I snort bursts out of me. "What was that?"

He shrugs, still grinning. "Wooing."

"That was not wooing, Rhodes," I inform him, finishing the last of my fries.

"No? Then why don't you give it a go?" He places his hand out, waiting for me to continue.

I think for a moment, trying to come up with something to say. Anything. But I keep my mouth shut. "Nope, I'll leave the wooing to you, hotstuff."

Chase smirks, "You think I'm hot?"

I glare at him, but I can practically feel the blush on my face. "No. It was a figure of speech," I rush out.

Chase hums, looking smug as ever.

"I will punch you again," I warn and he chuckles.

"You never did apologize for the first one," he informs me and I scoff.

"Why would I apologize? You deserved it."

"Hey! I said sorry," he points an accusatory finger at me.

"That's the problem," I mumble. He looks confused at this but I quickly change the subject. "It's getting dark out, I should be home soon." That's a lie. I'm pretty sure my mom would rather me be here than anywhere else.

"You're right," he says, though there's a twinge of disappointment in his voice. But then he smiles and I shake my head, just my imagination.

We exit the diner, the cool air brushing gusts of wind against us as we walk to Chase's car. The night is still young but I've had my fair share of human interaction for today.

We sit in silence for a while, and I wonder if I made things awkward by rushing our...well, whatever it was, but then Chase says, "Hey, Lila?"

I turn my head to face him, "Yeah, Chase?"

"You shouldn't hide your smile so much."

I'm shocked into silence. What does he mean? I don't know. I mean, I'll admit, I'm not the most easygoing person. But I didn't realize I was trying to hide my smile. To be honest, I don't even remember smiling.

"You don't smile often enough, but when you do, you hide it—and you shouldn't." He continues. "Never know, people might start to tolerate you more."

I roll my eyes, "Wouldn't want that, now would we?"

He grins. "Never."

My house comes into view and Chase parks the car, leaning back in his seat as I slide out of my seat. I bid him goodnight, but just as I'm about to enter my house he shouts my name.

"Can't wait to fly the eagle to its nest tomorrow!" Then he drives off. Leaving me to wonder what the hell that even means.

I shake my head, trying to tell my brain there's no getting used to the anomaly that is Chase Rhodes, when my mom lifts her head from the counter and smiles at me.

My shoulders sag, "Hey, mom."

"Don't hey mom me! How'd it go?" She stands from her seat and walks toward me. I shrug.

"It was good."

She giggles—actually giggles—and wraps her arms around me. "I'm glad. And, Lila?" I hum. "I like him." She wiggles her brows.

I huff out a breath. "So do I." The lie feels heavy on my chest for some reason. Like I shouldn't have said anything at all. I cant keep evading the truth to my mother like this. But what good is that now?

I tell myself it's nothing as I crawl into my bed and try to force myself to find the peace of the dark. But it's not use. My mind keeps replaying what he had said in the car.

You shouldn't hide your smile.

It was cheesy and stupid and yet my mind was at war with itself when I heard him say it.

I don't try to hide it. Its just a force of habit. After we left Arizona, I stopped indulging in stupid things. Even if they weren't stupid to most, I told myself that if it didn't guarantee me a future, it wasn't worth my while.

I've lived off that mantra for so long that I don't know anything else. I don't want to know anything else.

And yet...I suddenly can't stop thinking about that sentence. About my parents' warnings. Do I want to grow up so fast? I don't know.

I don't know anything anymore. And that's the problem.

I know I want to get into West State. I know I want to have a bright future ahead of me. I know I want to be successful.

But I don't know how long that goal will last. If I'll even want that goal by the end of the year.

And that terrifies me.