Chapter 22: Penny's POV

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"So what was that about?" I asked Zach as he closed my bedroom door behind him.

"What was what about?" he asked.

"Whatever just happened between you and Owen."

"Oh, nothing," Zach said, brushing it off.

"It didn't seem like nothing. I mean, I didn't expect my brother to be happy about me bringing a boy home, but he seemed especially pissed off that it was you."

"Yeah well, we kind of got off on the wrong foot last year." Zach motioned for me to sit down on the bed. "It was a big misunderstanding, and nothing that you need to worry about."

"Still Owen looked about ready to bash your face in before you grabbed hold of him and whispered something in his ear."

"Yeah well, let's just say I always know the right thing to say." As he sat down next to me on the bed, I could tell that he was still keeping something from me.

"Well I knew that, Mr. Smooth Talker," I said. "But what did you say to him?"

"It's really not that important, Pidge," Zach said with a sigh as he stood up while patting my leg.

"Then why won't you tell me?" I asked as I stood up too.

"Honestly, because it's not my secret to tell." Zach unzipped his backpack. "If you really want to know what I said, ask your brother."

I had no idea why Zach was being so secretive about what he'd said to Owen. I knew that it had to be important for it to stop a rage-filled Owen dead in his tracks. Anyway, as much as I wanted to know, I decided that this was one of those times where I should "pick my battles" and just let it go—especially since I could just ask Owen later.

"Let's get started on that Spanish homework," Zach said as he pulled out his Spanish-English dictionary.

"Ugh, do we have to?" I said as I opened my backpack.

"Si, ahora," he said. "Vamos!"

I pulled out my homework packet. "Have I told you how much I don't like Spanish? Because I don't."

Zach sat back down on my bed. "En español, por favor."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. No me gusta la clase de español."

"See you know Spanish ... and you said that you needed my help," Zach said.

"I do need your help. That's literally the one sentence I know by heart." I sigh as I sat back down next to him. "And since Señora Rodriguez doesn't teach us anything, I actually had to look that up myself."

"Well I think you're selling yourself short. So why don't you try to do the packet by yourself before I just give you the answers."

"Gee, thanks so much for the help."

"You mean, 'muchas gracias.'" I rolled my eyes again. "The more Spanish you speak, the better you'll get at it."

"Fine. Cómo se dice 'My boyfriend is a pain in the ass?'"

Zach smirked. "Mi novio es muy guapo y fantástico."

I smirked back. "Yeah, nice try. But I know what 'guapo' and 'fantástico' mean."

"Do you know what 'perfecto' means?"

"Hmmm, I'm gonna take a wild guess and say 'perfect?'"

Zach shook his head. "No." I looked at him confusingly—I wasn't so bad at Spanish that he could pull the wool over my eyes that easily. "It means Penny."

I looked into his eyes and smiled before leaning in for a kiss. "Cute."

"Well, I am 'Mr. Smooth Talker' after all," he said.

"Yes, that you are," I lovingly put my hand on his cheek. "But seriously, I need to get started on this packet."

"You're right—lo siento." Zach opened his dictionary. "And seriously, I'm here to help in anyway I can."

I smiled after I finished writing my name at the top of the paper. "Thanks, Babe."

Endless amounts of gibberish stared up at me, mocking me to form some semblance of an answer. I lifted the page in hopes that Señora Rodriguez had just decided on a whim to staple several blank pages together, but I knew it was futile. There was no way I could get this done before dinner!

I looked helplessly up at Zach, hoping puppy dog eyes could convince him to just do it for me.

"Oh, no! That look won't work on me; you're doing this. Besides, what are you gonna do when I'm not here to give you all the answers?"

I rolled my eyes and smirked at him. "Why would I need to know Spanish to be a professional soccer team manager?"

My boyfriend blinked back at me in a rare moment of surprise. "Soccer team manager? But I thought you were quitting the team?"

"I am," I replied smoothly. "The manager doesn't actually play—just makes sure everything runs smoothly."

"But that still doesn't explain why you want to be in charge of a soccer team; I didn't think you were that into it..."

This is what I loved about Zach—he knew me so well. While other people would just accept my answer, only half-listening, and move on with the conversation, Zach persisted. He wanted to really understand me: my dreams, goals, interests. And, he was a quick learner; at this rate, he had the potential to catch up to Owen!

"Owen wants to be a professional soccer player. You know I like being in charge, so it just works out really well. We can stay close and both still do our own thing." It felt strangely intimate, revealing these things to someone I hadn't known for more than two months. I shouldn't be as comfortable as I am with him, but maybe that's a sign that I'm finally doing something right.

Zach got this look on his face, something in between wariness and restrained anger. I still didn't know what was up with him and Owen, and I was growing tired of being left out of the loop.

"You two are really close, huh?" For once, my boyfriend looked completely serious.

"Yeah," I answered softly, tracing the outline of the packet in thought. I blinked, and then looked at the pages more clearly- still blank.

I groaned, picking up my pen once more and attempting to make sense of the directions for the first part.

Conjugate the following reflexive verbs.

"Zach?" I asked.

"Penny?" he mocked, almost condescendingly.

"What does 'reflexive' mean?" I questioned sheepishly.

He face-palmed, sighing loudly, and opened his mouth to answer.

He was interrupted.

Dana barged into the room, looking every part of the protective older brother. I caught a glimpse of Owen grinning triumphantly in the hallway, and gave him the meanest glare I was capable of. If looks could kill...

Suddenly, the spot Zach had occupied beside me was empty. I whipped my head up, and saw him encased in one of Dana's infamous iron grips.

"Zachery Oliver," he growled. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you expelled and shipped off to reform school?"

"Dana!" I exclaimed, completely appalled. What in the hell was going on? "Let him go!"

My second oldest brother completely ignored me, save for a warning snap of his fingers in my direction. Zach was doing his best not to look utterly terrified, but I could see the fear in his eyes. Dana was scary all the time, and absolutely horrifying when he wanted to be.

Ben came in then, stopping for a moment in surprise at the scene before him. I could see him debate whether to join Dana or help Zach, and sighed in relief when the latter finally won out.

"Let him go, Dana," Ben said in a calm but firm voice.

Dana reluctantly followed Ben's order (which kind of annoyed me because I'd told him to do the same thing less than thirty seconds ago), nearly making Zach fall back onto the bed as he released him roughly. As much as I wanted to flip out at Dana, I was just grateful that Ben had actually decided to take my side in the situation (for once).

"Are you okay?" I quietly asked Zach as I quickly went and stood by his side.

"I'm fine," Zach whispered back.

"What in the world is going on in here?" my oldest brother asked as he went to stand next to a still-horrifying Dana. The way Ben crossed his arms in an intimidating manner quickly suggested to me that maybe I'd spoken too soon and he wasn't on my side after all. Great.

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