Keeping Me (Spy Chronicles Book 2)(24)

How do I even do that?

“Come on,” Bass says, motioning me to get up. “We’re going back to the house. We can walk. And I’m going to make you a smoothie.”

“A smoothie?” I ask, not getting up yet. I just need a couple of more seconds. My legs feel like noodles.

“You’ve been eating a lot of junk food. Which I get. You've been starved your whole life and everybody wants you to try everything,” Bass says. “But you need healthy food if you’re going to get in shape.”

“Don’t smoothies have, like, ice cream in them?”

“Not the ones I make.”

“It’s Sander’s fault that I eat so unhealthy,” I say.

Bass holds out a hand to help me stand up.

“That’s because my cousin is determined to make you eat every food you’ve never tried,” Sebastian says. “He’s always been impulsive and you are his new project.”

“Project? I was thinking more like... best friend?”

He laughs. “You have a lot of new best friends.”

“My dad hates the fact that they’re all guys,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“But you’re interested in one of them, right? It must be why your dad doesn’t like them so much,” Bass says.

“You mean interested like I want one of them to be my boyfriend?”

He nods.

“No,” I say.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Huh,” Bass says. “I thought for sure...”

Sebastian doesn't finish his thought, though.

“I've never had a boyfriend,” I said. “Or even a friend. I guess my mom... or my not-mom, was afraid people would figure out that I was kidnapped or something. So, this is all new to me.”

Bass stays quiet for a moment longer, which I’m used to. He’s like Sander in a lot of ways, but he actually thinks before speaking instead of blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. Not that I don’t like that about Sander, I do. But because of that Sebastian seems older. Wiser. Even though, technically, Sander is older than Sebastian.

“Most people, in your situation, wouldn’t be as well adapted to society as you are,” Bass says. “After going through what you did. I mean, I wouldn’t.”

“I guess I’ve just been waiting so long for... this,” I say, pointing between us, “that now that my time has come, I want to enjoy every second of it.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Friends. Family. Life. I’m really living for the first time in seventeen years,” I say. “And it is amazing.”

“Have you ever told your dad that?” Bass asks.

I shake my head.

“You should.”

“It’s just weird,” I say. “If you didn’t notice, my dad is kind of scary. Just because we share DNA doesn’t make him any less scary.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” he says.

“Also, I just don’t want to hurt his feelings. He knows some of what happened to me. I mean, it was pretty obvious by how skinny I was that I wasn’t getting food like I should have,” I say. “But he doesn’t know the rest.”

“What rest?” Bass asks.

“There’s a lot,” I say. “Stuff that even the other guys don’t know, and I don’t really want to tell them. Or anybody. I don’t want people to feel sorry for me or look at me like I’m broken. I’m not broken. Just... a little damaged.”

“You should tell somebody everything,” he says.

“Maybe I will, but not now,” I say. “I’m just so happy right now that I don’t want to think about sad things.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Bass says. “You look a lot healthier too.”

“I’ve gained five pounds.”

Of which I am super proud.

“The bruise on your head is looking better too,” he says.

It’s now a light yellow color. I’m ready for it to fade completely so I won’t be reminded of what... he... did.

I’m so weak I can’t even think his name. Which is stupid. I guess I just feel so stupid for trusting him.

“Do you think I’ll ever see him again?” I ask Bass.

“Who?” he asks.

“You know...” I point at my head.

“Nolan,” he says. “I don’t know. I mean, I kind of thought Nolan liked you. He never really liked many people...”

“Kind of like you,” I say.

“I don’t like people,” Sebastian says. “You should know it’s never good to trust people at Spy School. We’ve been taught to manipulate people and situations. It’s part of training.”

“I trust you.”

“Maybe I should tell you that you shouldn’t trust me, but I can’t. I want you to trust me. Not just want, I need you to,” he says.

“You’re trustworthy,” I say.

“I don’t really feel trustworthy,” he says. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a very likable guy.”

“I like you.”

“You like everybody.”