Chapter 17: Help from the Shadows
Alexander's POV
The familiar groan of hinges announced my return as I shoved open the door to my room. The space smelled faintly of tobacco and my cologne, overlaid with the cheap citrus cleaner the cleaners used each day. My shoes clicked against the marble threshold, and before I could even cross the rug, a voice thundered out.
"Surprise!"
Michael with his blue coloured eyes and dirty blonde hair was sprawled across my bed, grinning like a bloody idiot, his arms flung wide as though I'd just walked into a birthday party instead of my own room.
"Surprise!" a second voice chimed in, higher than Michael's voice and a second too late. There was no way I wouldn't recognize that voice anywhere. Not with that unmistakable Scottish lilt. Eilidh MacLeod sat perched cross-legged on my bed. Her brown hair was tied in a messy bun, and her sharp brown eyes danced with mischief.
I let the door click shut behind me and gave them both a withering look. "Congratulations. You've startled me. Now piss off."
Eilidh snorted. Michael only grinned wider. Anytime he smiled like this, he reminded me of his father who is a famous footballer and also a well known womanizer or was because that was a long time ago.
"Come on, mate," Michael said, sliding off the bed and striding toward me. "Don't be such a grouch. I and Eilidh planned this surprise just for you." He told me but I have him the middle finger in reply.
"What happened?" Micheal asked me with a frown on his face suddenly worried. "You look like someone kicked your bloody dog."
I rolled my eyes, peeling off my jacket, the navy blazer of St. Augustine's uniform, and tossing it over the back of a chair. My fingers went to the first button of my vest, and with each wordless flick, I loosened everything.
"It's Isabella, isn't it?" Eilidh piped up, her tone smug as she leaned back on her elbows. "That's the only thing that ever puts that storm-cloud look on your face. Don't even try denying it."
Michael groaned dramatically. "Christ, not again. Don't tell me it's about her. I thought we'd already established she hates your guts." He added with a smile.
"Thanks, Mike. Ever the ray of sunshine," I muttered, dragging the tie loose from my collar.
Michael, reading the silence, sighed. "So…are you going to tell us what happened?"
"No."
"And that means yes in normal Alex fashion." Eilidh said from where she was with a smug smile.
I tossed the tie aside with a groan and tugged at my shirt cuffs. "As expected. Harris was an arse. He keeps circling Isabella like a vulture, convinced she had something to do with Rose's death. Never mind the fact she nearly fainted at the sight of the body. Never mind that she's been questioned more times than any of us. The bastard's made up his mind and it just irks me. How is he so sure that she's the killer? Aren't cops supposed to be upright at least? Especially in a place like this where one wrong move against any of us could destroy their career?"
One thing about my friends was the fact that no matter how much they annoyed me, which was a lot, we hardly ever hid things from each other. These were my people although one person was missing and I could bet my left finger that Eilidh had something to do with it.
"Except maybe he has nothing to worry about?" Eilidh chimed in.
"I doubt that." Micheal said with a frown on his face. "Do you want me to call dad?" He asked.
"With what? The only person who sneaked a phone in here is me." I told him.
As much privilege as we got in this school, we were not allowed to bring in phones. We could bring in laptops and other devices but they were monitored and giving how things were, I didn't trust anyone in the school right now not to intercept anything sent outside.
And besides, I wasn't the one in trouble from the look of things. The ball was all in Isabella's court and it depends on how she wants things to go if not I can't take any action.
I paused, "This isn't just about me or rather about me at all because I was a witness but I'm not being questioned or suspected at all. And Isabella… she wouldn't want me dragging her family into this without her say-so. She doesn't even like me, Mike. Imagine her anger if I went behind her back."
Eilidh let out a low chuckle. "Doesn't like you, aye? We all know that. You don't need to tell us what we already know."
My gaze flicked to her, sharp, but she only raised her brows, utterly unbothered.
Michael folded his arms. "So...do you have any idea what happened with Mateo? I heard gossip in the halls."
A small laugh escaped before I could stop it. "He didn't even realize Isabella was falling apart until I told him to bloody go after her. He was too busy watching me, convinced I was up to something, that I'd somehow used the interrogation to worm my way closer to her. He should be scared of how much we know about each other but he's picking up a fuse with me due to me dragging her out of the interrogation room away from that bastard detective."
Eilidh tilted her head. "He was jealous. And we all know Mateo doesn't like you."
"And I just don't understand. I haven't done anything to the bloody wanker, what about me isn't likeable?" I asked them.
"Maybe we should ask Isabella?" Elidih said making her and Micheal chuckle while I just shook my head but a smile tugged the corners of my mouth.
"But...you don't like him either." Micheal pointed out to me.
"So?"
"So...I see no issue with him not liking you. You both dislike each other. It's a mutual dislike." He said.
"He's pathetic and pretends to be the best at most things when we know he's paying people." I told them, tugging the shirt free from my trousers and tossing it toward the laundry bin. The white undershirt clung to my chest as I dropped into the armchair by the window, dragging a cigarette from the box on the table. The flame of my lighter flickered briefly, the familiar burn filling my lungs.
Everyone in school...okay not everyone but I liked to believe that a good majority of people knew that Mateo bought his way through most things including his grades but then projects this perfect boy image to everyone else. He's scum and he's also a bully but Isabella doesn't know that he isn't who he claims he is.
Silence hung in the room for a moment except for the sound of Eilidh rummaging through her bag. I knew she was going to bring snacks out because she hardly got anywhere without at least one.
"You know, things would be easy if she'd just accept my help but she doesn't want it. She doesn't even want me in her presence." I said finally, voice low. "The only reason we're even speaking now is because I was there when she found the body. If not for that… she'd still look at me like I was the devil incarnate."
Michael sat on the edge of his own bed, leaning forward. "And yet you're still helping although from the shadows."
Eilidh grinned with a Snickers bar halfway into her mouth. "True. The only reason that junior stopped with the prank was because you caught him and made him apologies to her."
"And the letters," Michael added, shooting me a knowing look. "You convinced Isabella those were from the junior. You gave her peace of mind but only one was from the junior. We still don't know who placed the first one in the locker."
I took another drag, staring out the window at the dark sweep of the courtyard below. The ivy on the stone walls shifted in the wind, ghostly in the lamplight. "She doesn't need to know any of that. Let her hate me if it keeps her safe."
Eilidh's laugh was soft but sharp. "Safe? Aye, that's what this is about. You'll move heaven and earth for her, but you'll never admit why."
Michael groaned again, flopping back on his bed. "Bloody hell, this is exhausting just listening to. Alexander, mate, you either need to tell her or drop it. No more skulking about in shadows."
I didn't answer. Because I couldn't.
The truth was carved too deep, and saying it aloud would make it real. And Isabella Marquez, he girl with fire in her veins and ambition in her emerald coloured eyes would never want the reckless second son of a duke...no, she'd never want me. I wasn't good enough fir her anyway.