true colors - jb & ag 《completed》

{nine}

The bones of Justin's face appeared to harden beneath his skin. "I have nothing to say."

To you. At the unspoken words, a spark flared inside Ariana's chest. Being around him was like a knife striking flint, her emotions going from a single flame to a burning inferno in a matter of seconds. She mirrored his stance, crossing her arms and arching a brow. "Does that mean I don't have the right to speak?"

His cheek rippled, and she could hear his teeth grinding as he searched her face. Ariana bit the inside of her lip in an effort not to squirm. After several seconds, he clipped, "Then speak."

She cleared her throat and decided on a direct approach. "You can't stay in the house."

He took two steps forward, standing so close she could feel his warmth and smell his spiced citrus scent. How does he still smell the same after all these years? An involuntary shiver raced down her spine as she tilted her head back to meet his shaded gaze.

"It's my house and I'll stay there if I like." His words were low and controlled, but the underlying threat hovered just beneath the surface. "The question is, what are you doing in it?"

Was it possible that he could kick them out? Override the contract they'd signed? Where would they go? Bieber House was not only their shelter, but her mother's sole source of income. A change of tactic was in order. Ariana took a step back and broke eye contact. Able to breathe much better with some space between them, she pushed the bangs off her forehead and forced her tone into more polite territory. "My mom signed a contract to take the caretaker job. We moved in last week. She's been working hard to clean up the place, but the last guy let it go for years."

When Justin didn't respond, she jerked her gaze back to his face, then wished she hadn't. His mouth had parted as he searched the wall behind her head, his face unguarded for the first time. He dropped his eyes to the floor and scrubbed a hand down the back of his neck. "Just give me some time."

Without waiting for her reply, he pivoted and pushed out the door.

Ariana slumped against the wall as a realization slammed into her—he had nowhere else to go.

■ ■ ■

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Ariana didn't see Justin again and heard rumors he was doing admittance testing. In his absence, he was still all anyone could talk about, with reactions ranging from fear that a "killer" walked among them to twitters from girls about how he wasn't like the other boys—his bad-boy persona only fueling their fascination. Ariana found herself thrust into the center of it all and faced their voracious curiosity with as much nonchalance as she could manage.

All the while, her own thoughts swirled in her head. Justin appeared so strong and independent that she hadn't given a thought to his plans—or lack of options. And why would she? Between his ominous glares and irritating taunts, there hadn't exactly been room for a heartfelt reunion. But she was beginning to see through his facade.

By the time she jogged up the front steps of Bieber House after school, she'd decided to talk to her mom about him staying there—temporarily.

The acoustic stylings of James Taylor's "Fire and Rain" greeted her as she entered the house, along with her mom's sweet soprano singing, "But I always thought I'd see you again . . ." Ariana dropped her backpack on a chair in the entryway and followed the music to the formal parlor, where her mother had thrown open the damask cream drapes and stood on a ladder cleaning one of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The rounded room with its silk upholstered sofa and matching loveseat wasn't exactly cozy, but she'd been enchanted by it as a kid. She turned in a circle, and as her eyes landed on the curio cabinet packed with colorful hand-painted teacups, saucers, and pots, the urge to have an Alice in Wonderland–style tea party came rushing back.