Undercover: Book 1 — Chapter Twenty-Six

I sighed as I laid down on my couch after school, staring at the ceiling.

"Wow, so this is what you do in your free time?" Andrew asked sarcastically while walking in through the back door.

"Why did you come in the back door?" I asked, sitting up.

"There are a million different groups of paparazzi out front. I had to go through your neighbor’s backyard so I didn't get caught. There are cops out front removing the paparazzi from the street right now as we speak," Andrew said, sitting next to me.

"Oh, I should’ve figured as much. With my identity released, everyone is just dying to know the inside scoop,” I said, rolling my eyes. “They all just want to be the first one I talk to about everything. Joke’s on them, I’m not talking to anyone yet, at least, not until this problem is solved.”

Andrew frowned. “Nope, drop all of those paparazzi thoughts. Tonight, we’re going out on a date and when I come back to pick you up at seven, you’re going to be as giddy as ever and ready to have the night of your life.”

I looked at him curiously. “Why are you here so early anyway?”

“To make sure you’re all right and we’re still on,” he said.

“I’m surviving,” I told him with a shrug.

“Good. Dress casual tonight and be ready.”

I had three hours till Andrew came to get me so I decided to watch one more episode of America’s Got Talent before I got ready. Once it was over, I took a long shower, following my usual routine before getting out and putting the pink fluffy towel around me. I walked over to my closet to pick out an outfit. I decided on a pair of skinny jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. The shirt was lace so I wore a black bralette underneath. Then I decided on a pair of black knee-length boots.

I curled my hair and pulled it all to one side and braided one piece on the top so it was like a crown. I walked downstairs just as there was a knock on the door.

"Hey,” he said, smiling, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hi.” I smiled back. Everyone saw a bad boy or a player or whatever they wanted to classify him as but really he was nothing but a big dork. A cute one at that, but still a dork.

I guess that’s why they always say the nerd gets on so well with the player.

I looked at all the paparazzi that surrounded the area still and mentally groaned. I grabbed my purse off the hook before closing and locking the door behind me.

“ARE YOU REALLY CLOVER THOMPSON?”

“LUCKY! OVER HERE.”

“WHO IS WITH YOU?”

“IS HE THE SAME GUY YOU HAD THE JAIL PHOTOSHOOT WITH?”

A man grabbed my hand, stopping me from moving. “Were you really pretending to be a nerd or is that a cover for something else you’re hiding?”

I removed his clammy hands and quickly got in the car that Andrew had ready with my door open. It took some time, but after some extreme honking on Andrew’s part, the paparazzi eventually made a path for us to leave.

"Miss Thompson, you look lovely tonight," Andrew said in a fake British accent once we were driving on the road.

"Mr. Carter, you look rather dashing as well," I said, using the same tone. I truly meant it. Something about his black jeans and his white button-up shirt looked different than usual. He looked like he cared.

"That was a horrible accent," Andrew said, laughing, and I couldn’t help but join in.

"I’m Aussie not British,” I said matter-of-factly.

"True, true," he said, nodding his head in understanding.

"So, where are we going? Because I’m telling you now, I am not going to another fair or a club, and I am not stealing a motorcycle this time. But more importantly, I want to be sleeping on my bed tonight and not on the floor of a jail cell," I said seriously.

"Darn. I really liked that motorcycle from New York. Too bad we had to leave it there. You sure we can't get another one?" Andrew said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm positive. Now, where are we going?" I asked again.

"Now that's a surprise," Andrew said before turning up the music. One Direction's new song called the “Best Song Ever” came on so I turned it up louder, causing Andrew to groan.

"Awe, stop complaining," I said, flicking his arm.

I sang loudly along with the radio, and Andrew turned down the music.

"You have a horrible voice," Andrew said, causing my jaw to drop and him to receive a smack on the arm.

"Jeez! Must you be so abusive, woman?" Andrew said, rubbing his arm.

"Hey, my voice isn’t that bad,” I said before realizing what he said. “And I am not abusive!"

Andrew parked by a small forest and got out, opening the door and then holding his hand out.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say,” he mumbled under his breath. I grabbed his hand, sliding out. He quickly shut the door and started walking toward the forest.

"Are you going to kill me? If you are considering it then don't think for even a second I won't come back and haunt you,” I said once I caught up to him.

"Yeah, I planned a date so I could kill you," Andrew said sarcastically as he moved branches out of the way. I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm but stopped in my tracks when we arrived on a beach.

"Andrew? What the hell?" I said, looking at the view. There was a blanket laid down and a path of candles leading toward the blanket. No one was around and it was completely clean.

"Did you do all this?" I asked as I sat on the blanket next to him.

"I could say I did but I would be lying. My sister helped me out," Andrew said sheepishly.

“Not to be weird, but what’s she like? Your sister I mean?”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing weird about asking. She’s a sweet girl for being sixteen. Everything about her is fun; it’s hard for someone not to get along with her.”

I wondered why I’d never seen her around. If she’s sixteen then she would definitely go to our school. I quickly remembered the fact that he told me in the past she went to a boarding school.

“That’s kinda far,” I responded, surprised.

“Yeah, but it's next to that Ivy League school for guys, Johnston University. My mom figured it would be more beneficial to go to the sister school since she’s smart enough,” Andrew said as we stopped at the end of a mountain area. We didn’t go too close to the edge, but we sat close enough so we had the beautiful view.

"Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly, grabbing a basket from behind a tree.

“Extremely,” I replied.

"I know you eat like nothing, so I got you a fruit bowl and some lasagna," Andrew said, handing me a container and bowl while he ate spaghetti and meatballs. I took a bite of the lasagna and moaned.

"This is so good! Did you make it?" I asked, taking another bite.

"No, I actually had my mom make it. But I'm glad you like it," Andrew said sheepishly.

"Wow! Tell her I said she is an amazing cook. I haven't had homemade food in like forever," I said just as I popped a grape in my mouth.

"So, it’s your turn, Thompson. How’d you get here?" Andrew asked me after a while, handing me a water bottle.

"What?" I asked, honestly confused.

"How’d you become Lucky? What got you to this point? Just tell me, who is Clover Thompson?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

I set down my bowl of lasagna and looked at the view. “What got me here? I’m not really sure anymore. I guess I should start with my parents, since they’re part of the reason I’m where I’m at, as much as I hate to admit it,” I said honestly.

“Then tell me. I want to know the real you,” he said, leaning against the tree behind him.

“Well, my mom owns a fashion business and my dad is a surgeon so neither one of them are ever home, which you’ve probably noticed,” I said, moving my pasta around with my fork.

“I basically have been an adult since I was thirteen when my parents started leaving more often. My mother opened a business here in Cali so she decided to move here. May 1st I’ll be nineteen, but it’s really not something I celebrate, as age is not a model’s friend. I started school earlier than most students so I went to preschool twice.” I ended it there. Unsure of what else to really say.

Andrew snorted. “I could’ve read that all in a book. You’re leaving things out. For one, I can tell your parents hurt you by leaving, but I can’t tell what leaves you with such a sad look.”

Something about his words struck a chord in my heart. Could I trust him? Yes. No thought was needed for that one at this point. “I had a sister,” I said softly.

He looked at me carefully, waiting for me to continue.

“Her name was Aria. She died when she was five. I was only twelve at the time. I can’t say it wasn’t traumatic at the time because it was very. It’s something that’s always left my family's heart heavy I guess.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how’d she die?” Andrew asked, causing me to look at his caring eyes. He wasn’t there to judge or to laugh or make me cry. He was here for me, and I could tell it all just by one look.

“My dad blames me for her death. We were just going on a casual car ride to the store. We just needed a dress for my modeling gig. My mom couldn’t take me so my dad offered to,” I said, looking away from Andrew again, feeling slightly angry with myself. “Aria wanted to come with us so my dad let her. She wanted to sit up in the front seat with my dad and her being daddy's little princess, he let her. But it was about eight o’clock in the evening and we were heading downtown trying to get to the mall before it closed at nine," I said as tears started welling up as the memories flowed through my head.

Andrew grabbed my hand and squeezed it lightly, showing he was with me.

"We were turning and this car came out of nowhere, hitting the passenger side." A few tears started to slide down my face as I remember her piercing scream and the blood dripping down the side of her face.

"My dad blames me for sitting in the back seat. He would always tell me I should have been the one up there not my younger sister. He claims that it’s my fault for even wanting a new dress," I sobbed.

Andrew started rubbing my back, saying soothing words. After a few minutes, I started calming down again.

"You know it wasn't you fault. It wasn't anyone's fault besides the other driver," Andrew said but I shook my head.

"I sometimes think he’s right. I should have been up front, not her. Maybe then she would have survived. But ever since then, my parents have busied themselves with work to keep their minds off her death. I wanted to continue modeling, become something big even. I wanted to change my relationship with my dad and make myself something he would be proud and talk to me again, but he doesn't and he hasn't talked to me in months, maybe years," I said sadly.

"Does your mom blame you?" Andrew asked me.

"No, she knows it isn't my fault," I said, drinking some of my water.

"Good, because it isn't and it never will be your fault. It pisses me off that your dad would rather have you die than your sister. He should wish that no one died,” Andrew said, wiping my tears with his thumb.

“I think he partially blames himself because he’s a surgeon and he couldn’t save her. That’s the only thing that can make sense.” I said as I thought about when we got back to the house after the accident. I remember the moment we were back at our house that night. All the pictures that coated the wall were thrown. They were shattered, stepped on, ripped apart. There’s nothing left of them.

“My parents would fight all the time. They went from always being home and having family dinners every night to rarely being home. And when they were home all you’d hear is their screaming constantly. There’s no relationship there anymore, just hatred.”

I knew their relationship was done when their first fight ended with my dad yelling he wished they never gotten married. It broke my mom, the next day she flew to New Zealand for a week and I was left with a nanny.

Andrew squeezed my hand, reminding me he was there. “And now?” He asked softly, looking at me gently.

“Now? Now there’s nothing. It’s silence when they come home at the same time. I almost wished they’d fight or something just so I can see what it’s like to see them talk to each other again.” I told him honestly. My heart felt almost relieved to tell everything I’ve always felt deep down.

I looked at Andrew carefully, “What about you? Your dad, you never mention him.” I said and he pulled his hand away and clenched the blanket lightly.

“My dad is a drunken fool. He spends his disability money on nothing but alcohol and prostitutes. He’s his own sob story, but that’s just because he needed help and no one would help him.” Andrew briefly explained. “He makes me become him when I’m around him, I sit there and smoke my thoughts away or I drown them in alcohol. That’s why I did what was best for both of us. That 5,000 that I got for fake dating you or whatever in New York, that went straight to helping him. I put him in a rehab center and that itself was the startup fee I needed.”

My eyes widened in surprise, I forgot that Mary paid him so much for that.

“It’s sad that this is what our world’s turning to. There’s no love anymore, just arguments, pain, and divorce.” I said and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me so I was leaning against his chest.

“But even with the pain, we always survive.” He said pressing his lips to the top of my head. The small action caused my heart beat to dramatically speed up.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat there just staring at the view, but I embraced the feeling for as long as possible.

"We should probably finish eating." He suggested and I nodded in agreement. Once we cleared out a majority of the food we spent the rest of the time sitting there talking and playing little games on his phone like tic-tac toe.

It wasn’t until he suddenly locked his phone and stood up that I realized how dark it actually was. “Where are you going now?" I asked, still sitting.

"We are going for a swim," Andrew said, taking off his jacket, shirt and shoes.

"Andrew, it’s definitely too cold," I said, refusing to move.

"Fine, then I guess I will have to bring you in the hard way," Andrew said, picking me up.

"No, Andrew Carter, you put me down this instant! These are designer boots!" I squealed, hitting his back,

"Then we can take them off," Andrew said, throwing my shoes on the ground.

"I can't let the—" I started to say but got cut off due to the fact that I was thrown into the cold water. I came up coughing only to be splashed as Andrew jumped in.

"I was going to say I can't let the paparazzi see me like this," I said, shivering.

"Well, good thing I lost them before we came," Andrew said, swimming up to me.

"I mean, when I go home, dumb ass," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Then you can just stay at my house." Andrew shrugged.

"Will your parents mind?" I asked and he shook his head.

"Nope, my mom won't mind," Andrew said as he ran his hand through his wet hair.

"Oh, okay, then if you don’t mind, I guess I'll stay," I told him.

"I'm pretty sure you will fit in my sister’s clothes since you're so skinny but they may be too big," Andrew said, shrugging.

"I can work it out, bad boy," I said, splashing him.

"Oh, it's on," Andrew said and that's how it went till twelve, just splashing each other back and forth with nothing but laughs and a few perverted comments.

***

We ended up arriving at Andrew’s house by twelve-thirty. When we got out of his car, I couldn’t stop shivering, even with the towels we had wrapped around us. Thankfully, he was at least smart enough to bring towels. Still, I was sure my lips were blue from the freezing temperature of the water.

"You can take a shower if you want," Andrew said as we walked in.

"Yes, please. My hair feels gross from that water," I said.

"Okay, I'll just—"

"Andrew? Honey, is that you?" a lady asked, walking out of the kitchen. She was skinny and looked to be in her mid-forties. She had long dirty blonde hair and was wiping her hands on an apron. She was very pretty. You could see where Andrew got some of his looks from.

I was slightly surprised to see the apron and the small amount of flower that covered it. It was strange for her to be up, let alone cook so late.

"Yeah, ma, it's me," Andrew said, putting his leather jacket on the hook.

"Young man, why are you home so late? I told you a million times you need to stop partying and actually focus on—" The lady stopped when she noticed me standing behind Andrew.

"Oh, my! I'm sorry I didn't notice you there. What's your name, dear?" Ms. Carter asked.

"I'm Clover, it's nice to meet you, Ms. Carter," I said politely.

"Please call me Shelby. I got rid of the name Carter a long time ago,” Shelby said, holding out her hand, which I shook.

"You are so beautiful! Wow, the first girl Andrew brings home,” she said, giving him a look while sending him a wink that caused him to groan. “I actually just got done making cookies. I had to make two hundred for this baking fair tomorrow, but I made some extras. Would you like one?" Shelby asked.

That makes more sense for the cooking now. And here I thought it was a usual occasion for moms who are actually home.

"Ma, she will have one later. We were just swimming so she's gonna go take a shower since she’s staying the night," Andrew said.

"Oh, ooh,” she said with wide eyes as if she understood something I was clearly missing. “Of course. Make yourself at home, sweetie."

"Thank you so much," I said as Andrew and I walked off. He handed me a towel and a pile of clothes and I took a quick shower.

When I got out, I dried off and put on the clothes and noticed they were a pair of Victoria's Secret sweatpants and a white tank top. The tank top fit but the sweats were too big, so I rolled them up, which helped a lot. I put my hair up in a messy bun and walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where a now dry Andrew was wearing just sweatpants while standing there with his mom talking. He quickly excused himself and decided to show me where I would be sleeping tonight.

After leading me to the guest bedroom, he mumbled a goodnight before leaving me be. I laid down on the bed and grinned widely. I definitely had a problem on my hands. I may just have a huge crush on Andrew.