I kept my focus on the road ahead, or I guess I tried to at least because my mind was buzzing with both excitement and trepidation. I didn't broach the subject about his living conditions, seeing that Evan probably didn't want to talk about it, but that didn't stop my brain from going all out.
Since stepping back into the car, the only thing that I could think about was what could be so bad that he was so reluctant for us to go to his house. Me being me of course, decided to cook up every possible scenario in my head, from the depressing to the downright insane.
I wondered that maybe Evan didn't exactly live in a good neighborhood, overrun with crime and gang members. Then again, that wasn't something to be ashamed of. I mean, not everyone can have the best environment growing up, but that didn't make them any less than others. Heck, you could even say it was inspiring if that was the case, for someone like that to grow to be this insanely smart guy who was definitely going places. I'd say that's an inspirational story, wouldn't you?
I hoped that he didn't come from an abusive family because that would have been absolutely horrible. It would explain the reclusive personality that Evan had. I mean, I'd pretty much avoid others too, if I couldn't even trust my own parents. That being said, I had seen Evan almost completely naked, and there wasn't even the slightest sign of any sort of bruising that would have resulted from being abused.
Maybe he was some sort of serial killer and he had captives in his basement, screaming for help through the floorboards. Okay, that one was kind of a stretch but you never know with people. Like I said, Evan was mysterious. However, while knowing that Evan was definitely keeping secrets about himself, I seriously doubted that it was homicidal tendencies.
Still, I was nervous about what I would find. Honestly, and I might sound like a bad person for saying this, but I kind of hoped that it was something bad. Not bad as in like him getting abused or anything, but bad like he's a drug dealer or something. I figured that at least that way, I had a stepping stone to get over him. I mean, I can look past a lot of things, but to willingly do something like that was kind of a red flag.
Only after mulling over the many possible scenarios in my head, that I realized I had already painted a mental picture of the kind of area that he lived in, and all of it was only based on assumptions. I expected to enter a street with run-down and abandoned houses, overgrown lawns and graffiti painting every sidewalk and wall.
That wasn't the case, though because turning down the street I realized it was anything but. In fact, the dilapidated houses I had imagined were nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by the familiar mansions I had seen on multiple occasions. Why familiar, you may ask? Because the twins lived in this exact neighborhood.
Just then, we passed their huge house, seeing the white walls that look every bit the postcard mansion. On their lawn, I saw one of the gardeners whom I have met a couple times while visiting. He too looked up, his attention caught by the noisy vehicle heading down the street, only to see me through the window. He seemed surprised for a moment before he gave a friendly wave. I barely had enough time to return one before he was out of view as Evan continued down the street.
"Did you know him?" Evan asked out of the blue.
"Huh?" I asked, taken aback by the sudden question.
"That guy you waved at. Did you know him?" he repeated.
"Oh, him," I started, thinking about how to phrase this. "I wouldn't say I know him on a deep personal level, but I've talked to him a few times."
"Do you always talk to random people?" he asked.
"What?" I asked, eyebrows raising before I got what Evan meant. "Oh, no he's not a random stranger. That was Mitch and Melissa's house. He's their gardener."
"Oh," Evan replied softly.
I was about to probe further before I felt the car turn down an adjacent street, this one lined with tall trees on both sides. The undergrowth was so thick that you couldn't see past it, also giving the illusion that we had just been teleported to some midwestern forest. I looked ahead, only realizing that it wasn't a street, but a driveway, the end of it leading up to a house that looked modernly rustic if that makes any sense.
The thick foliage surrounding the area gave the house a cabin in the woods kind of feel, even though we were in California. The house, in itself, looked like a work of art. Wood paneling took up most of the facade, the browns broken up by large panes of glass. The two levels of the home didn't fit nicely together, looking like two different halves put haphazardly on top of one another, the corners of each level not coinciding with each other. Everything just exuded elegant simplicity.
"Whoa, you live here?" I muttered, slightly bewildered. I mean, I wasn't a stranger to expensive houses, but seeing that I had thought Evan lived in some type of squalor, this definitely came as a surprise to me.
"Yeah," Evan replied, but his tone seemed almost shy. I turned to look at him, seeing a blush which only confirmed his embarrassment. I found it a little weird, because, from my experiences in Cornway High School, I knew that kids with money usually flaunted it in one way or another. They may not brag about it, although some do, but you could tell they came from wealth just based on the clothes the wore or the car they drove. They sure as hell weren't embarrassed about it.
I turned to look at Evan, noting the hoodie he wore and the worn-out jeans. Hell, even his car didn't give any indication of his wealth. People, me included, really didn't know Evan Trevorrow at all. He was mysterious, sure, but I was beginning to find out that he was really a man of secrets.
The car lurched downwards, seeing as sunlight was replaced by overhead fluorescent bulbs. I looked back, only then noticing the ramp that led down underneath the house. The dude literally had an underground garage. It was like something you'd see on reality TV shows about the life of the rich and famous and their extravagant houses. But, all these paled in comparison to what stocked the garage, nothing screaming money more than the impressive lineup of cars that occupied the space.
My eyes went wide as I looked from one expensive car to the next, each one rising in the price tag as if someone had sorted them based on increasing price. I didn't know the exact model of each car, but I was more than familiar with the various brands, knowing that they were anything but cheap. A big black Lexus started the show, moving to a dark blue BMW SUV, white sports Audi, and a red Maserati. But the cherry on top was definitely the car at the far end. A bright yellow Lamborghini.
"Holy shit," I muttered, jaw as good as on the floor. The twins were rich too, but the Finch's vehicular catalog was just two cars, one of them the twins' Mercedes. This was way, WAY more extravagant.
"My dad," Evan replied simply.
"He likes his cars?" I asked, even though my eyes were still admiring the sweet rides.
"I guess. I think it's just some mid-life crisis thing though," he said as he parked next to the Lexus.
"A pretty expensive mid-life crisis, I can imagine."
"That's an understatement." I turned to face Evan, only to see him already stepping out of the car. I proceeded to follow, fiddling with my seatbelt, trying to release it from the catch which was not letting go.
"Uh...Evan?" I asked, tugging at the restraint which still refused to budge. Evan bent down, looking back into the car, before blushing and reaching over for the latch.
