by Doyle, S.
“I’ll try,” I told him. I hadn’t had a serious attack in years. The thought of going to school was scary as heck, because he was right. Most kids would know me as a home-schooled freak. Still, it would be better than what I had now.
If we were at the same school, I would get to see him more than at home and at his soccer games.
“You should. Otherwise this estate is going to be your whole life, princess. And that would suck.”
I was rich. I had a big house and father who would give me mostly anything I wanted. My life shouldn’t suck.
Only Marc was right. It kind of did.
* * *
Later that night
Ashleigh
Daddy was home tonight, and, when he was home, I was expected at dinner. At seven o’clock sharp I arrived at the table wearing a proper dress for the occasion. My father did what he usually did, which was to size up my appearance then grunt his approval.
We didn’t talk much at these dinners. Mostly because I had nothing to talk about other than Marc, and I was supposed to barely admit he existed. Anytime I did mention Marc, it irritated my father.
It was so bad George had to ask me never to discuss Marc with my father. It was my father’s wishes that we didn’t interact, so as far as he was concerned, we didn’t. And we probably wouldn’t have, if I wasn’t always forcing the issue.
Today Marc had to talked me. Had given me advice like I mattered. Like he cared. It was enough of a boost of courage to push me to ask for what I wanted, and what I wanted was to be normal.
“Daddy, I was thinking now that I’m older…I should go to high school.”
He lifted his eyes above the glasses he now wore to see his food more clearly. My father was significantly older than most fathers of teenagers. He was turning sixty next year. I was a child from his second marriage. My mother was twenty years younger than him.
He was still handsome in the traditional sense. Always impeccably dressed, hair and nails trimmed, fit physique, but there was no getting around the white hair that signified his age.
“No,” was his abrupt answer.
That response was expected, but I’d learned throughout the years that getting what I wanted was all about perseverance and timing, with some stubbornness thrown in for good measure. It was basically the same approach I was using on Marc to get him to fall in love with me.
It was how I’d been allowed to go see Marc’s soccer games.
“I have to start thinking about college. Going to high school would help me learn how to acclimate socially. Also, it would enable me to take AP credits, which I’ll need if I’m going to be accepted at Princeton.”
Princeton was Daddy’s alma mater, and when we spoke of colleges, we spoke only of Princeton.
He lifted his head again and shook it. “Your health is too delicate.”
“I haven’t had an attack in years.”
He sighed. “Ashleigh, I don’t have you home schooled to isolate you, I do it to protect you.”
“I know. I just think, at some point, I’m going to have to be…exposed to other people. I have to know how to speak to, and how to act around, other kids my own age.”
He focused on cutting the filet on his plate, then pointed his steak knife at me. “Kids your age are horrible creatures. They’re mean, ruthless even. And the boys… I don’t even want to think about the boys. I’m doing you a service by keeping you away from all that.”
I didn’t press the issue further. It would only make him angry and I would get nowhere. No, I knew this was going to be a drawn-out battle that would take time.
Time, which was on my side. It might take months but eventually, I would wear him down. Then I would have some time attending the same school as Marc. Where he might finally see me.
But beyond that, everything I’d told my father was true. I did need to be with people my own age. I needed to socialize. As Marc would put it, I needed to grow up.
It was odd, but in so many ways, it felt like that was the opposite of what my father wanted. Which didn’t make sense. What parent didn’t want to see their child grow and flourish?
No, I needed to play the long game with this. In the end, I had no doubt of the outcome. I didn’t fight often, but when I did, it was because it meant that much to me.
3
Summer before sophomore year
Ashleigh
Victory! I’d finally done it. I’d talked my father into letting me attend high school. I’d been tested and was eligible for all honors courses. I had my course list and I was already getting ahead in reading for AP English. And I was going to take French.
Classes didn’t scare me. Homework didn’t scare me. The only thing that made me nervous was how the other kids were going to react to the new kid. Who wasn’t really new.
It wasn’t like people didn’t know who my father was, who I was. Our estate in this town was well known. But this would be the first time anyone local was really going to interact with me. Most likely the other kids would think I was a private school dropout. Because that’s where the exceptionally wealthy in this town sent their kids. I wanted nothing to do with private school. I wanted something more real.
“You think they’ll like me?” I asked Marc, who was at the side of the pool testing the chlorine levels. He must have been okay with the result of the test because he didn’t add any more.
“No. You’re a freak.”
From my position on a float in the middle of the pool, I swept my arm out and splashed him.
“Hey,” he said, wiping the water out of his eyes.
“This was your idea,” I reminded him. “You told me to get a life. You need to be supportive.”
“Have you met me?” he snapped. “I don’t need to be anything.”
“Is it going to be weird with me at school with you?”
He dove into the pool then and surfaced close to my float.
“Ash, I’m not even going to know you’re there. We’re going to have a totally different schedule, different classes. We’ll be in different wings of the building. So don’t think…”
He trailed off.
“What? Don’t think what?”
He pulled himself up and rested some of his weight on my float, dipping it enough so I could feel the cool water rushing in, but I didn’t mind. He didn’t get this close to me very often. Today I was wearing a barely-,there powder blue bikini. My chest was filling out, as were my hips a little, although I would never be considered curvy.
Did he notice? He never looked at me in a way that made me feel like he noticed. But I always thought it would take only one moment. One spark where he would finally see me like I wanted him to see me.
“Don’t think what?” I pushed when he didn’t answer.
He sighed. “We’ve been over this. We’re not friends when we get to school, Ash. We’re not going to sit together at lunch or anything. I’ve got my crowd I hang with. You’re going to have to find your own crowd. You get that, right?”
We weren’t friends? We’d known each other for five years. Had lived next door to each other for five years. I’d hung out with him, played with him, sat with him in his worst moments. Had been there for him when he was so sick George almost took him to the hospital. I ate dinner with him and George any time my father was out of town. They were more my family than my father was.
I was in love with him and he didn’t think we were even friends?
I pulled the verbal knife out of my chest and considered what he was doing. What he always did when it came to me. For whatever reason, this time I called him on it.
“You’re lying.”
“Ash—”
“No,” I said. “I’m not going to get in your way at school if that’s what you’re worried about. But don’t sit here and tell me we’re not friends. We’re more than that and you know it.”
I pushed him hard to dislodge him, but when he didn’t budge, I dove off the other side, swimming to the edge of the pool, climbing o
ut slowly. Putting as much sway as I could into each step.
Turning to him, I could see that his eyes were pinned on me, watching as water ran down my body. I wrung out my hair and our gazes held so he could see my truth.
“I know you, Marc Campbell. Don’t think I don’t.”
He hesitated for a second, then turned his head. “You don’t know shit.”
“You can tell yourself that, but we both know the truth. See you around school. Maybe.”
* * *
Marc
I watched her walk away and decidedly did not look at her ass as she did. She was right. I’d encouraged her to push her father to let her go to school, and, now that she’d made it happen, I didn’t know how I felt about it.
On the estate, we were isolated. Whatever relationship we had was kept under wraps. Between us and no one else. Landen thought we didn’t interact. He’d probably be surprised to know how much time we all spent together when he wasn’t around. George didn’t comment about Ash hanging around, either. Unless I got too surly with her or did something he felt crossed a line.
Because I only ever did that, crossed the line, with Ash. I was different around her than any other person I knew. Not like my friends at high school. Certainly not how I was with any other girl.
Now she was going to have a chance to see who I was with them. One area of my life, which had been private and only mine, was suddenly going to be exposed to Ashleigh.
Who could see everything.
And the thing she would see right away was how much of a front it was. I acted like a popular kid. I was treated as a popular kid. Anyone on the outside looking in would think I was friends with the whole fucking school. Because that’s what I wanted them to think. Because popularity had advantages, and any time I could gain an advantage in this world, I took it.
Ash would know it was all fake.
I swam a few laps to work off the unease I was feeling, then pulled myself out of the pool only to come face-to-face with the master of the house himself.
“Sir,” I said, ducking my head and reaching for the towel I’d left on one of the lounge chairs. “I’ll get out of your way.”
My goal was always to get out of Arthur Landen’s way as fast as possible. It wasn’t like he intimidated me. Maybe he should have, being as rich as he was. It was more about feeling like I was on borrowed time with him. As if any minute he might pull the rug out from me and George and send me packing. So the less he saw of me, the better.
“A moment, Marc.”
Shit. I turned to face him. Arthur Landen was a formidable looking man. Tall, with a full head of hair even if it was all white. Heavy, but not fat. Just solid. He had Ash’s light blue eyes, but they weren’t as soulful as hers. As expressive as hers.
As fucking all-seeing as hers.
“Yes, sir?”
That was the other thing I did. I said sir as much as possible around him. Reminding him I knew who was in charge around here. I lived here at his whim.
I had to work for it, earn my keep by working with George around the place, but even without that, I had to remember how lucky I was he’d conceded to George’s wishes.
“I understand you’re going into your senior year. By all accounts, you’re doing well.”
Top ten academically, captain of the State Championship soccer team, student council vice-president and captain of the debate club. Everything I needed to pad my résumé to get into Princeton.
Because that’s where I was going.
Two years ago, George drove me the hour south to the Ivy League school and I’d become fixated on it. Not Yale, not Harvard. I wanted Princeton. Where Landen had gone with a silver spoon tucked between his teeth.
I wanted to earn it. Because of my circumstances, my rise from the gutter to the top of my class, my brief time spent in the foster system, I was just enough of a sad sack for them to take a look at me without the pedigree. There weren’t a lot of poor kids who got into Ivy League schools, but I was going to be one of them, and I’d picked Princeton.
“Well enough, sir.”
“I’m sure you know my daughter will be attending Harborview High this year. We both felt it was time to acclimate her to her social peers.”
He didn’t have a damn thing to do with her decision, but I kept my mouth shut.
“I just want to be clear. My expectation has always been that you and Ashleigh keep to yourselves, separately. You can appreciate my concern given she’s an impressionable young woman and you come from…well, more challenging circumstances.”
AKA: my mother was a heroin addict.
“But now you would like me to watch over her at school?” I suggested, thinking that’s where this conversation was going.
Landen sniffed like he smelled something bad. It wasn’t me. I only smelled like chlorine.
“On the contrary, I saw you with her in the pool and thought you two looked rather close. More than I’m comfortable with, to be blunt. She’s only fifteen. Innocent, because I’ve kept her that way. With the two of you at school together, she might cling to you. Look to you for support. Become…attached. I’m asking you to discourage that behavior.”
No problem there. It’s exactly what I’d already told her. There was no way I could hide how much I was faking everything from Ash. So the only strategy was to keep her at a distance.
“That won’t be a problem, sir.”
He nodded. “Good, good. George says you have ambitions to go to Princeton. Not sure if you’re aware, but that’s also my alma mater.”
I could feel my jaw get tight, and I suppressed the urge to clench my fists. I knew what was coming next. This guy was not about to wish me luck on my ambitions.
“Actually, I didn’t, sir.”
“Hmm, yes. A long time ago, of course, but I’ve kept in touch with a lot of influencers at the school. You understand my meaning.”
Crystal. Clear.
Stay away from Ash or risk him using that influence against me.
These had always been the rules at the Landen estate:
Earn my rent through work.
No friends at the main house or the carriage house.
No drugs or drinking.
Stay away from Ashleigh.
That was the hardest one to follow because she wouldn’t leave me alone. At least that’s what I told myself.
“That won’t be a problem, sir.”
He nodded. “Good. Anything you can do to discourage her attachment would be considered a boon to me.”
Most of the time I was mean as fuck to Ashleigh. It didn’t discourage shit, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t double down if that’s what I had to do. Hell, it would be my pleasure.
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
A week before school
Marc
“It was the greatest movie of all time,” Ash said.
“More potatoes, Marc?” George asked me. We were sitting around the kitchen table in the carriage house, having dinner together, which we normally did when Landen was out of town. I’d mentioned seeing the latest Avengers movie with my friends and somehow, I’d ended up here, in the most ridiculous argument of all time.
“You’re kidding me right now,” I said to Ash. To George I said, “Sure. I need to carb up before practice. Coach wants us in shape before the year starts, which means running.”
George slapped some more mashed potatoes onto my plate and I dug in while they were hot.
“Wonder Woman was an inspiration for girls everywhere,” Ash exclaimed. “That’s bigger than a superhero movie, that’s…that’s feminism.”
“It’s a movie, not a movement,” I told her. “You got completely caught up in it, too. You do realize there were parts when you cried? And not just when the hero bit it.”
“When all the warriors were coming down the cliffs to fight the Nazis and you believed they were evenly matched. That was epic!”
I rolled my eyes. “It was okay. I’m not saying it was a bad m
ovie. I’m just saying it was not the greatest movie of all time.”
“You need to appreciate that women are going to run the world someday,” Ash said confidently even as she scooped up her own mashed potatoes. “But don’t worry, Marc. I’ll go easy on you.”
I snorted. There were times Ash could be a trip. Arguing with her shouldn’t be as fun as it was. I had to give myself a mental shake, reminding myself of the conversation I’d had with Landen last week. I needed to put more distance between us.
A hard knock sounded on the door. The house was an open concept layout so all I had to do was lean a little from where we were sitting at the table to see through the glass pane that ran along the side of the door.
“It’s Mr. Landen,” George said, standing immediately. “I’ll get it.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be back tonight,” Ash whispered. I glanced over and saw her expression. She was nervous. “He told me I wasn’t supposed to eat dinner here anymore. But…he wasn’t supposed to be back tonight.”
George opened the door and immediately Landen stepped inside like it was his house. I supposed it was. Yes, he’d given me the warning, too, about staying away from Ash, but surely this didn’t count. Not when George was with us. We’d all been having dinner together for years.
“Ashleigh,” Landen barked. “Now. Let’s go.”
She rushed to his side and I could see his face was flushed. With anger? Or something else, because I thought I smelled alcohol.
He grabbed her by the arm, a little harshly I thought, and slammed the door behind him as they left without another word.
I looked at George. “Is she in trouble?”
“He’ll send her to her room. He likes to send her to her room a lot,” he said, obviously bothered by the events. “But that’s all. She’ll be fine.”
“I smelled booze,” I said.
“Hmmm,” was George’s only comment.
We sat and tried to finish our dinner, but it wasn’t the same without Ash.