AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Trent is an old friend, someone who has been in my life since we were kids. I wouldn’t call him my best friend, since Colby would slaughter me if anyone else held that title, but he’s definitely my longest friend. He’s the kind of guy I can go months without talking to, and nothing changes. We pick right back up where we left off and it’s like no time has passed. He’s probably one of few people I’ll answer the phone for right now.
“Give me a second. I have to walk through a wall of money-hungry assholes trying to get the inside scoop.”
He chuckles. “Don’t get skinned alive.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and use my arm to shield my face as cameras flash and questions are all but screamed in my face.
Asher, is that all your stuff?
How do you feel about not playing football anymore?
Do you think you’ll ever recover?
If it wouldn’t get me thrown me in jail, I’d probably run them over with my car for sport. The whole group of them follow me all the way from the doors to my black Range Rover and the questions don’t even stop when I’m safely inside. As I start the car, my phone connects to the speaker.
“You still there?”
“Yeah,” Trent responds. “That sounded brutal. How many of them were there?”
I look in my mirrors, just to make sure there’s no one in my way, then pull out of the parking spot. “Not sure, and I’m not sticking around to count.”
He sighs. “Anything I can do to help?”
“You can talk about something else. What’s new with you?”
“Ash, you know there’s never anything to talk about on my side. I’m still teaching a bunch of kids who think their parents’ money is the key to success, and in the summer, I hang out by the pool.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You make that last part sound like a bad thing.”
“It could be more eventful, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t know. I could use a little R&R by the pool.”
To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I let myself just breathe. It was probably back in high school when my family and I took a trip to the Bahamas. Wait, nope. Even then, my dad had me running drills on the beach. I take that back.
“Well, you’re always welcome to come chill by mine,” Trent offers, then pauses for a second. “You know, that might be a good idea.”
“What? Sulk at your place and force you to listen to me bitch and moan?”
He snickers. “No, asshole. Come stay with me for a bit. You know they’re going to be camped out at your place for the next couple weeks, just waiting for a chance to get the inside scoop. At least they won’t know to look for you here.”
It’s not a bad plan, but a part of me is hesitant. “I’m not sure I’d be the best company right now.”
“Do you think I give a shit?” he quips. “Layla is out of the country for the summer and I’ve got the place to myself. We can be bad company together.”
As I turn the corner toward my building, I realize just how right he is. I can already see all the news vans and photographers gathered around outside. While I usually enter through the elevator in the parking garage, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before they infiltrate that as well.
“Alright,” I cave. “Just until all this dies down and they focus on the next poor soul.”
BY THE TIME I grab a few of my things and get to Trent’s, I’m exhausted. It’s only two in the afternoon, but all I want to do is collapse onto a bed and sleep for the next week. However, in honor of being a decent house guest, I force myself to stay awake as Trent and I sit in the living room and drink a beer.
He tells me more about the school he teaches at, Haven Grace Prep. To be honest, it sounds like my own personal hell: a place filled with spoiled brats who think that because their parents are rich, it means they have some kind of upper hand. I’ve met a few trust-fund kids in my time, and the worst thing about them is that there is nothing you can say to pop their false security bubble. Not a single one of them is prepared for the real world, and it’s bound to eat them alive.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I tell him. “You couldn’t pay me enough to deal with all that nonsense.”
He chuckles and takes a swig of his beer. “They’re not all bad. At least the son of the district attorney graduated this past June. He was a handful.”
“God, I can only imagine. Rich and powerful. A lethal mix in someone who, for all intents and purposes, is a child.”
