"The guy's a loser, Milana. Don't let him get in there like that." Donnie points at Foster and shakes his head.
"Shut the fuck up, Donnie," Foster says as he takes one step down the stairs and I lose contact with his shoulder.
Donnie moves behind Renzo, who is still standing in one spot, shocked and speechless to see me with another guy.
"You gonna make me do it, Foster? You forcing my hand?" Donnie says, and I'm lost. How do they know each other?
"Give it your best shot." Foster is not backing down.
Oh no. This is going to end in a fight. I can feel it.
"He's a drug dealer, Milana," Donnie blurts out.
"Shut your fucking mouth right now, or I'll shove your goddamn teeth down your throat." Foster presses one hand into the other to pop his knuckles.
"He wants in on the Bianchi business. He's working for me trying to get Dad's attention." Donnie sounds like a little kid ratting out a friend to get even.
Wait. Foster is working for Donnie? "You're selling drugs?" I ask my brother.
"Just a little pot," he answers.
"Just a little pot? And he's delivering it for you? All this is going on and nobody told me?" I can't believe what Donnie is saying. It has to be a lie. "Is that true, Foster?"
"I got pictures," Donnie says and Foster lowers his head.
Oh my God. It's true?
"You know what?" Renzo snaps out of his daze. "I remember this guy. Is this the guy who hit on you at a party and Donnie threw his ass in the pool?"
Foster looks to the ceiling and groans.
"What are you talking about?" I ask Renzo.
"A long time ago, but I'll never forget that little fuck. Hitting on you and you were only fifteen. Donnie chucked his ass in the pool."
"I remember that night," Donnie says. "Was that you, Foster?"
Now we're all staring at Foster.
He takes three steps down the stairs and faces Donnie straight on. "Wanna try it again now?"
Donnie would be smart to back down now, but he keeps it up. "You're the same guy? Have you been stalking her?"
"No." Foster holds his arms out and flexes his biceps like he's stretching and preparing to fight.
"See? He's after money. He cased the joint back then. He's probably been planning this a long time. Get close to the daughter. Do some business with the son. Get an invite to Sunday dinner." Donnie points at Foster.
I can't believe it but it makes sense. Foster isn't denying being the waiter, the boy in the pool I just told him about.
"You didn't say anything?" I say to Foster's back. "I talked about the boy in the pool and you didn't say anything?"
He looks back at me over his shoulder and the sadness in his eyes breaks my heart. "Not my brightest moment."
I'm confused. I liked Foster so much. He seemed so genuine. I thought his rough exterior was just a facade. Could he really be manipulating me to get to my dad? He'd asked a few questions, but he didn't seem to be prying.
But he's delivering drugs for Donnie? And he didn't tell me?
I'm hurt. I'm hurt he didn't trust me with the truth.
I'm angry he had connections with my family behind my back and didn't tell me. I thought he was separate from that. I thought I could trust him, but I can't. He's dirty like all the other guys my father hangs around with. It doesn't matter. Summer is over anyway. It was just a fantasy to be with Foster. And now he's not who I thought he was at all.
"I think you should leave now, Foster."
Pain and regret fills his eyes and his palms relax. He's not fighting anymore. Now he's fighting the pain I'm inflicting. Maybe he expected me to accept all this, but how can I? This whole thing with him wasn't what I thought. We weren't connecting. He's not a fantastic person. Even if he was being himself, his motives were bad. He wanted to get something from me.
My dad spends so much time protecting me physically but this guy infiltrated my barriers and now I'm scared. My dad couldn't protect me from him or my own stupidity.
"Mila…"
"Just go, Foster. I can't trust you anymore."
"I'm—"
"It's too late now. You had plenty of chances to tell me the truth and you didn't. So just go. Goodbye."
He gazes at me for a while longer, hope in his eyes I'll change my mind. The bitter regret I see there isn't because he's losing me. It's because he got caught trying to work his way into my family's business. He's exactly the kind of man my mom warned me about before she died.
Make sure he's genuine, Mila. Make sure he is who he says he is and he won't change for nothing. Because if you tie yourself to a man who fools you into something, you're stuck there forever. There's no way out.
He stares at me with those haunting moss-green eyes, but I'm not changing my mind. I cross my arms and plant my feet.
"Fine," he spits out.
Oh yeah, he's angry at me for not giving him a chance. Too late. No second chances. He looks from my eyes down to my legs and up again. "Watch out for coffee tables."
I hold my breath and try to stop my imploding heart as he turns and walks down the sidewalk next to the pool. The same sidewalk where he fought with Donnie when I was fifteen. He swipes up his shirt, steps out the door of the solarium, looks through the window like he did the night of the hurricane, and then he's gone.
"You don't need that guy," Renzo says as he walks closer to me. I hold up my hand because I don't want him near me.
"I'm going to get dressed. Please forget this happened and don't tell my Dad. Agreed?"
Donnie and Renzo both nod. I know they won't tell because they don't want me to get a beating again.
I don't say anything as I turn and march up the stairs to my bedroom.
I haven't taken the sunflower fairy lights down yet. Maybe somewhere deep inside I was hoping Foster and I could kiss again in my room one last time.
I turn the lights on and stare at my bed. We would have been making out right now if Donnie hadn't come home.
This sucks. Why does my life suck so bad? Why can't I have anything that's mine and safe and good?
With several strong tugs, the fairy lights crash to the ground.
Stupid bumble bee lights can't protect me.
This isn't some fantasy world where I can find someone I love and be with him. This is a dark world with no escape.
Chapter 10 My Own Place
It's time. Time to stand up to my father and tell him what I want for my life. He hates it when I complain about all I have, and I am grateful to him, but there's something missing. I don't have anything meaningful in my life outside of my family. Everything I do revolves around my father and his business. Who am I without Vaughn Bianchi?
That's the problem. I have no clue.
So, I need my own place. I need distance to find myself. Somewhere I can hang up my lights and not have to tear them down. A shelf to display my figurines. Someplace light and airy away from this dark cloud surrounding my every thought and move. Maybe a simple house in New Jersey or a cabin with a lot of trees.
I've missed Foster terribly in the last week. Moving out won't bring him back, but it's a step on the path to healing.