Rich man next door

Chapter 5

Jasmine POV

Worried faded the annoyance on his face as he hurries towards me. "Thank God, Jazzy. Where did you go? I called you like ten times you weren't picking. Mom is so worried."

I found Jimmy on the same street as the hillside. He was heading for the supermarket; I guess he must have found it through Google map.

Theodore was right; Jimmy really is iron man.

Which, for some weird reason, made me content he didn't make it to the hillside at the wrong time. God knows what he could've done to the bad blonde. Griffin guy. Whatever.

Jimmy always takes responsibility; that's why he's much more Superman to me than Ironman. He has been my hero my whole life.

He glances down at the heavy bags I'm attached to. "I unwittingly left my phone below the supplies in the basket." I rush my explanation while he collects the bags from me.

He immediately turns around, clearly debating with his willpower not to laugh at me.

Rolling my eyes irritated, I told him to spill it, and he abruptly burst into laughter.

After laughing like a seven-year-old on the street, he says. "I knew something was wrong."

"Nothing was wrong. I just forgot to put back my phone in my bag." With a smirk, I certified and swatted his arm playfully, earning a grunt and a baby pout which makes me laugh hard.

We stroll back home together, discussing about the new environment, and even caught up in a fun game, where we choose houses and recognize the numbers. Creepy but entertaining.

Jimmy is a very good person; he has been the shoulder for mom and me to cry on. He is solid and available when no one is. He always makes sure we have a healthy mood.

Sometimes I wonder if he really is happy? If he really is iron man. If his heart was made of steel? If his eyes ever form moisture?

Even after his girlfriend left him, Jimmy stayed neutral. And believe me, he had loved her for years. I mean, she was his first and only girlfriend.

When we lost our father, Jimmy promised himself to stay responsible. He never drinks or spends a single night with friends. He avoided parties and any form of fun his age should be doing.

He dropped a semester to make sure everything at home was intact. He was supposed to be graduating in a month, yet here he was, making sure I got home safely.

"I've found her. She seems to purchase things she can't pick." Jimmy mocks me just loud enough for mom to hear as we step through the entrance door.

I rolled my eyes at his prideful smirk and headed to the kitchen.

Mom was mobbing the floor when I walked in. She enjoys working too much these days.

Before was different, but now she uses chores as a distraction. It's distinct.

Pausing, she looked over at me and heaved a relieved sigh. "You should have called, my dear."

I sit around the counter and exhale. My legs hurt from having to wait in line and then walk quite a distance.

"I know." My apologetic smile was contagious; she ended up smiling too.

Jimmy settled the bags on the counters and began to arrange everything where they should be.

"So, how was it?" Mom asked.

It took a moment for me to realize she was talking to me.

"It was fine," I answered.

I think fine? Am I supposed to tell them I met the person who ran into us last night?

‘Ooh, and even helped him shop and apply make-up? or may I be more precise? Touch his lips and got lost in his eyes?” My subconscious gibe.

Well! That's a complicated long story to tell.

"Maybe you might start liking the new environment." Mom assumes and continues her chore.

Playfully winking at me, Jimmy agrees with mom. "I think so." He remarked.

From the counter, I watch him wash the fruits and place them in a small table basket.

"I don't know. Maybe I should have been in the room arranging my clothes." I snatch a red apple and advance to the staircase.

Clearing his throat, Jimmy corrected my statement loudly from the kitchen.

“Your room."He claims, but honestly, I don't even know.

Trent POV

On our drive back to Theo's place, I expressed my anger at him for faking my name this time.

He kept defending himself that that's what I would've done to stay away from the spotlight. But is that what I could've actually done?

I still can't think clearly ever since I had her standing two feet ahead of me. Jazzy doesn't seem like she knows any 'Trent Walter' from the way she looks at me.

It makes me happy in a messed-up way.

After dropping Theo at his place, I drove to the mechanic, who promised to finish the work by noon.

And right now: it was seven minutes to noon,

I remain in the car, waiting for the exact time before facing him.

He better make sure he has everything fixed.

"My man!” The mechanic excitedly grins when I approach him.

"You done?"

He was scratching his forehead with his dirty fingers when he spoke something stupid.

“Yes, but Jack took it on a test."

What the crap?

"What test? thought I told you to keep it in." I practically yelled at the crazy man.

He holds out both his palms, surrendering.

“Cool down, man. He will be here any minute:" He assures.

"He better." I angrily warned him before walking back to my SUV.

I waited, and minutes started passing by.

In my car, I begin to think about every bit of the risk.

I made additional f*****g p*****t, cautioning him to keep it in. If he dares let something happen, I will rip his head off.

My head was laid back against the headrest while I checked my messages; I had two missed calls on FaceTime from Demi, some girl around campus. So I dial her back.

When I appeared on the screen before she accepted, I took a moment to observe my makeup face.

Her beautiful soulful eyes are piercing at mine—the warmth of her soft touch on my lip, I am sure I wouldn't get over that rarest feeling she had left in me.

Right here, I find myself imagining how her hands will feel when I actually hold them.

I imagined a lot; her voice, her loose strung-like hair, the way her lips move when she smiles.

Who did I meet?

And for the first time in my life, she got me thinking about a girl in a thoughtful way.

Demi waves from the screen, distracting my thoughts.

“Hey, baby."

Shaking my head, I grumble. "Told you to stop calling me that."

Calling me ‘baby’ seems girlish. I hate when girls address me that way or any way that isn't my name.

"Well, you deserve the name." She stubbornly insisted, batting her attached eyelashes, or maybe they were real. I can't quite understand.

Demi is a straightforward sample of the IMG model. Her long straight blonde hair was always glamorous. She had deep blue eyes, along with a perfectly shaped nose and full lips.

She was tall and had legs so slim, always looking perfect in pictures. Most of her species envied her, and my species drooled for her.

Still, with that, she feels the need to walk in high heels. Earning her a nickname in school ‘Barbie.’

"Well, I've missed you. It would be best if you came back," She whined.

"You don't always see me, Demi."

I reminded her.

Annoyance takes over her flirtatious eyes. "Yes, that's because you keep avoiding me." She snaps.

Okay! she might be right. I do avoid her. I always have to hide or sneak out anytime she comes around.

Guilt-tripping over, I run my hands through my messy hair. "Uhm... that's not exactly true." I opposed embarrassingly.

Her eyes rolled

“Whatever, when are you coming back?"

"Monday morning." I simply replied.

"I want to see you, Trent." She sounded so severe, which scares me.

I'm not too fond of girls getting frank with me.

"I know." I managed a fake smile.

God! This is so uncomfortable.

Her eyes narrowed and made a wrinkle by each end. "What is that on your lip?"

Shit.

“What?" I blinked.

Her eyes widened when more. "What? Who hit you?" She sounded horrified by maybe my face.

The explanation is plain stupid; I decide to just keep my story to myself.

"What? No! Why do you suppose that?" I quickly asked.

I thought the makeup was supposed to be helpful.

"You have makeup on you, Trent. What else will make you wear on make-up?" She sternly asked.

Fuck she's annoyingly right.

Before I could think of an answer, Bruce was at my door. I told her a quick goodbye and hung up.

"So, where is my car?" I demanded as soon as I stepped out of the car.

He cleared his throat and looked over my shoulder.

“Yes, he is." He answered in a fragile voice.

"So..." Before I finished the sentence, my phone went off.

It's mom. I ignore.

Don't get me wrong; I will call her back when I am done with this issue.

“Where's the f*****g car then?" I questioned him.

My heart begins to race at the look on his features.

He swallowed and mumbled quietly or maybe afraid. "It's... your father."

I couldn't help the dagger glare I was drilling at him, my nose all flared up, daring him to say it out.

"What? What the f**k?" I throw at him, not knowing if it was precisely a question or a cuss.

"He saw Jack riding the car, and he..."

"Just shut up, shut the hell up," I yelled.

I know I asked for the explanation, but right now, my solicitous brain is plotting scenarios of destroying him.

And again, my phone went off, this time when I looked down at the screen.

It was dad.

I swallow hard and shoot Bruce and Jack, who's standing behind—a murderous look before getting into my car and accepting dad's call.

My heart was racing a million times than the beat on the radio.

In a lower voice, I start. "Hey, dad."

"Come home now." He commands calmly and hanged up.

My father had always been so calm, no matter the situation. It's always tough to read through his mind.

It is not like he laid rules for me or anything, but my father warned me about driving late and drinking.

An incident like last night can easily jeopardize my family's reputation, they believe, so my dad is making sure I don't peril his name—since the media printed rumors months ago about my behavior. And Dad will do anything to keep a clear and clean reputation.

My drive back home was the fastest. I feel like taking another round ride even after taking the longest route to my house.

The first gate opened, then I drove through the second, gradually passing the trimmed plants beside the driveway.

I park right after the big statue roundabout in front of the building.

And yes! My Lamborghini was neatly parked right there.

Fuck f**k f**k.

Asshole Bruce.

Exhaling loud, I push the entrance door and walk through the foyer that leads to the living room, where my parent awaits me.