Our Lies

Chapter 21

"Thank you for driving me back home." Agata said as she unfastened her seat belt.

Gia swept stands of her hair that were loosely hanging on her face to the back of her ear and smiled satisfactorily. "That's better."

Agata twisted her lip to hide her embarrassment. "I can do it myself."

Gia chuckled and apologized.

Agata stared at him for a while. Gia used to do this too – brushing and sometimes braiding her hair when she asked him to make her look pretty like the princess in the storybook, and Gia would clumsily do it.

"Is there something?" Gia asked. He thought she looked like she was reluctant to leave.

Agata scratched the back of her neck. "Nah, just remembering the past. Well, urmm... I should get going." She opened the car door.

"Ah..." Gia looked like he just remembered something. Agata was about to climb out when Gia's hand suddenly pulled her back inside.

"Wha...!"

As Gia leaned forward, Agata reflexively leaned backward, almost falling out of the car. Gia was quick to grab her arm.

"What the hell do you think you are doing??!"

Gia tilted his head to the side. "I thought you wanted me to... like last time..."

Last time...?

Agata's face went crimson as she recalled the childish ritual she forced him to do when they were children. She grabbed his arms back.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Gia. How did you know about it? Do you remember something?"

Gia averted his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"We used to do it when we were kids! You would do this to my forehead and whisper calming words so I wouldn't have nightmare at night." Agata patted her forehead.

"Well urm... Sera used to do that to Jean and me when we were young."

"HUH?!"

Gia smiled warmly. "I used to sometimes spend my weekend at Jean's house and at night, when Sera had to return to her room, he would make his sister chanting 'magic' spells so he can sleep better."

Wha...at?

Gia noticed Agata's expression had changed. "Oh... do you not... like it?"

"Like it...?" Agata could already feel her head steaming.

Gia seemed taken aback. "I thought the look in your face looked like Jean when he didn't want his sister to go..." His voice getting quieter as he could see Agata's face turned darker.

"For God's sake, Gia. DO I LOOK LIKE I STILL BELIEVE IN MAGIC SPELLS???"

He shook his head slowly and took her hands in his. His dark gaze fell onto her slightly rough hands. "You look like you don't want me to leave."

"What?" Agata quickly lowered her head. Was she that obvious???

The sound of phone ringing suddenly filled the small space. Gia picked up the call before the third ring.

"Yes, Mr. Trowell." Gia answered his grandfather's assistant.

Agata watched him nodded his head a few times and gave affirmative replies in between. "Please tell grandfather I will take care of it. I will discuss it with Miss Lassham." The call ended and he threw his phone into his pocket again. She noticed the warm expression he had on his face few minutes ago had completely gone.

"Are you okay?"

Gia looked startled. For a moment, he forgot Agata was there with him.

"Uh... no. Nothing. I am alright."

"Did your grandfather force you to do something you don't want to, again?"

Gia opened his mouth and then closed it again, not knowing how to answer her.

"You don't want this marriage, do you? Why can't you just tell your grandfather?!" Agata unintentionally raised her voice, startling Gia. Seeing Gia unhappy and him being quiet about it irked her.

"You should go home, Agata. I need to leave too." Gia turned away and restarted the car engine.

"Gia!!" Agata did not move from her seat.

Gia did not answer her.

Annoyed, Agata pulled her seat belt from behind her.

"What are you doing??" Gia stopped her hand from sliding the metal latch in.

"If you are so afraid of your grandfather, I'm going in your stead!" Agata insisted.

"This has nothing to do with you. Just stay out of it." Gia's tone turned sharp.

"Why are you always like this?? Never showing how you really feel! Always, always just keeping everything to yourself!! You coward!!"

"What..."

Agata's face had turned all red from frustration.

"What do you know about me? You don't know anything!!" Gia snapped.

Agata was shocked to be yelled at. This was the first time she saw an angry Gia, like outright angry, at her. She bit her lower lip, realizing she had gone too far. Her hand slowly releasing the retractable belt.

Seeing Agata went silent, Gia instantly regretted losing his composure.

"... you are right. This is your life." Agata's head hung low.

"Agata, I am sorry... I didn't mean to..."

He reached for her hand but she pulled it away and going for the door handle. "I'm going inside."

Gia noticed her red eyes. "Wait!"

But Agata had already slammed the door close and run inside the apartment building, never looking back.

***

"Mrs. Fores."

Dara, who was sweeping the front porch, turned and saw the boy from next door standing by the front gate. Sensing something unusual around the nine-year-old boy, she quickly ran toward him. "Gia? What happened? Your face is all red."

Gia coughed. "I just came to say that I cannot play with Agata today. My throat..." He coughed. His voice was hoarse.

Dara touched his forehead. "You are burning, Gia. Are you sick? Have you taken any medicine?"

Gia did not answer. He just stared blankly at the woman in front of him. His eyes were blurry.

"Come inside." Dara invited him.

"No! I... I am sick..." Gia twisted the bottom of his oversized shirt. Dara noticed a large wet dirty mark on it. It looked something like when someone spilled a bowl of cream soup on their shirt and then hurriedly trying to wash it away.

Dara ignored him. She lifted him up and ran back inside the house.

"Mrs. Fores?! I am sick!!"

"Yes, you are and you are going to get really sick if you don't quickly change your wet and smelly shirt, Gia."

Gia's face was red from embarrassment.

Dara smiled at him. "You must be hungry after throwing up. I'll prepare something for you while you go clean up yourself, okay?"

Gia nodded slowly and rested his hurting head on Dara's shoulder. "Thank you, Mrs. Fores."

Dara stroked his hair, which was wet from cold sweat and patted his trembling back. "Oh, you poor child. Don't cry."