Chapter 3

JUNE

“June—”

My phone chose that moment to ring.

I hastily got up from the chair I was sitting on and hurried over to my bed.

I answered the call the moment I saw the caller's ID.

“Mark?”

“Are you ready? I'm waiting outside for you. Don't forget, you promised to help me with my assignment," he rushed the words the moment I answered the call.

“Shit.....”

I gulped when I noticed the dark stare from my uncle when I used the cuss word.

“I will be down in a few!” I disconnected the call. “That's Mark. He's waiting for me downstairs.” I carried my backpack and stuffed my phone into it.

“June, I'm not through —”

“Love you, uncle.” I took the juice from the tray he brought in and pecked him on his right cheek before I hurried out of my room, stuffing the juice in with my phone.

It wasn't until I took three steps that I realized something.

My uncle is still in my room.

However, that's the least of my problems. I'm worried he might snoop around.

And that, right there, is the issue.

I don't need him to see the toys I have in my drawer.

I hurried back to my room. “Uncle, what are you still doing in here?” I pursed my lips, with my brows raised.

He was still standing in the same spot he stood when I left.

However, there is a likelihood that he might start poking around the moment I step out of the house.

“What's wrong? Did you forget anything?” He turned to face me.

“Yeah. I forgot you, uncle,” I rolled my eyes at him. “Can you please leave my room? I need to lock it.”

“Lock it?” He looked confused. “Why do you want to lock your room when you have never done that before?”

“I'm a grown-up now, Uncle. I require my privacy more than anything else. So….” I trailed off.

“Hmm.”

He turned to leave.

“The pancakes you made?” I raised a brow at the tray he was leaving behind.

“Oh,” he carried the tray, and made to leave, but I took a pancake from it, and winked at him.

“Thanks for this.” I took a bite, “Delicious as always.” I licked my bottom lip before I glanced up at him.

I could have sworn that he was looking at my lips. But that's my imagination.

There is no way he could be staring at my lips, not this uncle of mine, I tell you.

“You can take more. It's not like I can finish it all.” He motioned to the tray in his hand.

“Thanks, but I will skip.” I placed the half-eaten pancake back on the tray. “Mark will buy breakfast for me in exchange for my help.”

Kristen looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he only shook his head.

“See you when you return, Kiddo.” He turned and left.

With Kristen gone, I locked the door and pocketed the keys.

“See you tonight!”

I yelled at him before I hurried out of the house.

Mark came with his car, which was a red Corvette Z06.

His father gifted it to him as a birthday present three weeks ago.

“Guy, you sure rock!” I hastened over and got in his car.

“Good morning to you, too,” he sarcastically replied.

Unlike him, he's putting on blue jeans and a black hoodie.

His brown hair, which he cut two weeks ago, seems to have added length. It seems like he ran a hand through it countless times, or he might have been too lazy to use a comb.

“Why are you putting on a hoodie? Trying to start the semester with a bang?” I scrunched my nose.

He grinned, “Guess what, June.”

“What's it?” I tried not to sound excited. “You know, I'm not good with guessing.”

“Why don't you guess? If you don't get it after the second attempt, I will tell you.” He tapped a finger on his steering.

“Your father got another car for you?” I tilted my head to the side. “Isn't that a bit too much?”

He rolled his eyes. “He didn't get another car for me. Though he will buy another one, soon. But not now.”

“What else is there to guess? Did he get a new girlfriend? Your cat gave birth to a litter? Your dog fought with your cat, again?” I almost sighed.

He chuckled, “You have such an interesting imagination, Junny. But that's not it.” He raised the hem of the hoodie. “I got a tattoo!”

“What?!”

I glanced down at his once smooth abdomen. Now, it has a Raven tattoo on it, with tiny engravings around it.

“Isn't it beautiful?” He smugly asked, looking like one who had won a lottery. 

“Beautiful? Why did you get a tattoo, Mark?” I narrowed a glare at him.

He shrugged, “I've always wished to tattoo my skin, June.” He perked up, “You love tattoos, don't you? So, what do you think of mine?”

I sighed.

The truth is this, I don't like tattoos. Well, aside from the one on the body of a particular man.

But there is no way to tell him that.

Mark has been my friend since we were in our nappy age. His father was my uncle's professor back when he attended college.

And they ended up in one neighbourhood. That was why I became friends with his last son. And we have been friends for 19 years.

He knows most things about me.

Well, aside from the unholy feelings I have for my uncle, whom I'm not supposed to have feelings for.

“So, what do you think?” he repeated, looking expectant.

“Beautiful.” I forced a smile, “It's beautiful. Where did you get it tattooed?”

I asked because I knew he would wish for me to ask him that.

“Next to the mall. I happened to come across his ad on an app, so I decided to check him out. Junny, that guy is remarkable!”

“Hmm.” I raised a brow. “Does your father know about this?”

“No. I can't risk it.” He shivered, “This time, it won't be as simple as grounding me. He might cut off my allowance.”

“Yet, you got a tattoo.”

He shrugged, “I did it for a reason. You can't fault me for that, Junny.”

“How do you intend to keep it from your family? Wear a hoodie or shirt all your life?” I pursed my lips.

“I will think of it when the time comes. But for now, I'm just happy I got the tattoo.” He winked at me. “Haven't you always been a sucker for Ravens?”

And this is yet another misunderstanding.

I don't like Ravens, my uncle does. I only claimed to love it when Mark walked in on me drawing one.

To get out of it, I told him I love Ravens, and that stuck.

Most times, he calls me Raven girl, to tease me.

I've never told him off. I just let him assume whatever.

“June?”

I was startled by the call.

Most times, getting lost in my head makes me forget about the world around me.

“What's wrong?”

“You zoomed out on me for a moment.” He let go of his hold on the hem of his hoodie. “Your uncle hasn't left?” He motioned with his head, towards our house.

I turned at his words.

Sure as hell, my uncle stood in front of the door with his arms folded, and a glare narrowed at the car.