Making the Grade (The Model Spy #2)

Chapter 7 - Good Intentions and First Impressions

"Max sure did have you out late tonight. Am I going to have to give him a man-to-man talk?" Fred laughed and shut his novel, using a yellow sugar packet as a bookmark. "This is the latest you have been out in ages-"

His eyes widened as I entered the hotel suite, slowly creeping the door shut behind me. "Who did this to you?"

I was tired and dirty and there was dried blood on my knees and the black stockings I was wearing were ripped and glued to my skin and my head hurt and I fainted and Zach just stood there and watched. Despite all of those emotions and feelings, I could barely speak. There were thousands of words I wanted to use, but I suddenly forgot how to form sentences. All I could do was open and close my mouth over and over, yet no words escaped.

"What happened?" Fred asked again, the wrinkles in his forehead meeting in the center above his eyes.

"Did you know?" I asked Fred finally, feeling the warm tears trace their way down my face. They hovered at my chin before dripping onto the collar of my dress. "Did Pillington tell you he was going to do this to us?" My voice shook as I swallowed a sob.

Fred's shoulders crumpled. "Pillington did this to you?"

"And to Max too. He wanted his little minions to test our self-defense." Another sob threatened to escape. I forced it back, deep into my throat. I hiccupped and collapsed onto the sofa, allowing my body to sink into the cushions. My bowl of melted ice cream was still sitting on the table. It was as if I hadn't moved, as if those hours with Max were all a dream...a nightmare, rather and I was just now waking up. I was in the same spot I had been in earlier, only now I was a little bruised.

Fred hesitantly sat next to me. His weight caused the cushions to sink down even more. He was silent and for a few moments all I could hear was his breathing and my heart pounding in my ears. I was used to humiliation, but being the butt of this joke was different.

Suddenly Fred had his arms around me. He pulled me tightly to him, resting his chin on the top of my head. Slowly I broke and cried like I had never cried before. I cred heaving sobs that racked my entire body, sobs I hadn't cried since I was young, since my parents were there to comfort me.

Fred held me tighter, until my face was against his coat. He didn't say a word, not even as I soaked his designer suit with tears.

I woke up the next morning on the sofa, wrapped in a heavy comforter taken from the hotel's bed. My face was dry and I could feel my clumpy mascara glued to my eyelashes. I sat up, every muscle in my body aching from a night of sobbing and my skull felt as if it were cracked right down its center.

The melted ice cream was cleared away, replaced by a plate of eggs and bacon and a large glass of chocolate milk.

"A car will be here within the hour, but I didn't want to wake you." Fred came into the room, buttoning his jacket. "Eat up before your breakfast gets cold. And there are also two headache relievers on the counter if you need them. I have a meeting at the British embassy today, or I would have taken you to Langley myself."

I picked up the plate of food and held it in my lap. My stomach growled as soon as the smell of bacon reached my nose. Fred was putting together a file, holding packets of paper in both hands. His shoulders were slumped, his face long and tired and his hair even more unkempt than usual. For the second time in a week, he had dropped everything to be there for me. Even after how difficult I was with him last night, angry with him over Professor Scott, he sat with me for hours as I cried into his suit. He wasn't my father and he owed me nothing, especially not kindness after how I talked to him last night. But he would stop at nothing to do everything for me.

"Thank you." I found that my voice was hoarse and raspy. Once more I was at a loss for words because what Fred had done for me, not just now, but since that phone call in Paris six months ago, was too much for words to describe. There wasn't a word I could use to sum up the gratitude I had towards him and the...love, the sheer love I had for lanky, awkward Fred who gave me savings bonds for my birthday, who loved my parents as much as I did. I wasn't the only one who lost them in the blink of an eye. I wasn't the only one who thought of them endlessly. Every time Fred looked at me he was reminded of his best friends, yet he never stopped fighting for me. That was what love was and there wasn't enough room in my small heart, only a fraction the size of Fred's, to express the love I felt for him. And there wasn't a deed worthy enough to repay him for everything he had done.