by Cleo Fox
I rolled my eyes. "I'm aware. I'm not an idiot. I read your post, and I know what each means."
He cocked his head to the side. "Are you sure? In case you don't realize it, you're asking for help in basically all your classes. Obviously, you're not even average intelligence."
Ire surged up into my chest, and it took every ounce of my willpower to keep my composure as my hand curled into a fist on top of the dark wood table.
I stood. A part of me didn't want to feel like a submissive to them. I had to be that in too many areas of my life to be it in front of them as well. "Not that it's any of your business, but last year wasn't a good year for me, and I stopped caring. Now, I'm playing catch up to be able to maintain a decent GPA this year so I can get into a good college away from here. I'm not stupid, and I don't appreciate you stating that I am."
Zeke smirked, while the others remained quiet. "Did it hurt your brain to use a more than two syllable word just now?"
I really wanted my glasses. I couldn't lose it on him. I would just find someone else. "Fuck you, loser. Next time Jason picks at you guys, I'm not going to put myself on the line to distract him.” I managed to keep my tone even. “I could've let him keep going with humiliating all of you earlier, and he would've."
Going to the door, I opened it and left. There had to be another tutor I could hire that was just as good as them. Even if they were probably all of the top ten percent.
Someone in the top twenty would work just fine.
We followed her out of the library as she got into a red convertible. She didn't even look our way as she screeched out of the parking lot, revving her engine before she sped down the street.
I looked at Zeke. "Well, if your plan was to chase her off, you succeeded. We're never going to get any dirt on her now."
Zeke huffed. "I thought she would have a bit more fight in her than that. Let's go. I need to make some calls. I bet you anything she'll be looking for someone else. I'm going to make sure we stay her only option."
Sai sighed as we all went toward his car to pile into it. "You honestly thought insulting her intelligence was the way to go? I mean, I know we as a whole don't have much experience with women, but I thought you had more common sense than that."
I thought back to what she'd said. "Next time Jason picks at you guys I'm not going to put myself on the line to distract him. I could've let him keep going with humiliating all of you earlier, and he would've."
So, she said that thing about not letting him eat her out to make him stop picking at me? What did she mean by putting herself on the line?
Zeke got into the front passenger side, phone in hand as he put it to his ear. He only waited a moment before he grinned. "Hey, remember that thing I said I might ask you for? Well, I need you to make it happen. Just a small favor to help toward what you owe me, okay?" His grin grew as he listened to the other person. "Perfect. Yup."
He hung up. Who the hell did he just call?
Sai looked to Zeke as he started the car and his engine purred to life. "What the hell are you up to? Let's just leave her alone, this has to be a sign that bothering her and her life is a bad idea."
A tiny part of me wanted to agree with him. Some minuscule amount must've still liked her. It had to be the sex appeal because her personality had nothing to desire. But another part of me wanted to make her and Jason pay for all the times they made my life a living hell. One little distraction today wasn't enough to make up for almost four full years of bullshit.
Longer, since Jason had come after me since before high school.
I frowned. I didn't remember much of Chanel before the ninth grade. I knew she was around, but I don't remember her being the it girl or mean. Something must've changed that year. "Leave him alone, Sai. You know we aren't going to do anything bad. Let's just see where this takes us. We can stop at any time before it gets out of hand. Though, I do suggest you don't call her stupid from now on."
Zeke sighed as he dialed another number. "Yeah, yeah. No more giving her a taste of her own medicine. I get it. She can dish out the insults, but she can't take them, that much is obvious. Not that I should be surprised. People like them can never take what they give out."
Holding his phone back up to his ear, a girl answered on the other side. I could hear the pitch of her voice. But not what was being said.
"Hey, time for that thing I told you about. Are you ready?" Her voice grew higher, and he held the phone away from his ear. "Calm down, I wasn't questioning your ability to do this. Text me when it's done."
He hung up as she started back up with the yelling.
Bon leaned forward in his seat next to me, right behind Zeke's. "Who are you calling? Do we know these people? You aren't doing something illegal right? I can't go to jail. I need to become a doctor. My parents would literally kill me."
Zeke shrugged. "It gets fuzzy and gray with this specific thing, but I doubt anyone would find out, or even care about it. Clients of mine who have special talents. They owe me for giving them some Ritalin when they didn't have a fifty for a tab. I helped them out in exchange for future favors. They were more than willing to agree to it. And relax, you're not going to go to jail over any of this, Bon. We're teaching them a lesson in humility, not killing them."
Sai shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot, and turned in the opposite direction Chanel drove off in. "I swear if this goes south, I won't hesitate to turn on you. I also have pre-med to worry about, and I'm not risking the wrath of my father for any of this. Got it?"
My gaze went to the window and the moving scenery of suburban homes and white picket fences. I didn't have to worry about disappointing my father, I did that long before I ever entered high school. I had a future in computer science and hopefully working for the CIA or something.
With my family connections, I could get in.
But before any of that, I had to go to MIT, early acceptance the year before guaranteed my place there. I didn't have anything to worry about but getting through the last agonizing year of high school.
At the very least, the plan Zeke had appeared interesting.
Would we be able to pull it off? And would it be worth it? Something about her words in the library continued to play on repeat in my mind, as if there was more to read between the lines. Earlier in the day, at lunch, sparked up, and the fight we witnessed Chanel and the douche bag having.
At one point, it looked like he wanted to hit her.
I mean, he was a douche and liked to get physical with me, so why did I assume that someone like Chanel would be exempt from it as well?
Maybe because they always appeared to be so in love while walking down the halls. Always touching, always kissing. I guess no one could ever know what was really going on behind closed doors.
It didn't change my opinion on teaching them a lesson, though. They needed to learn having rich parents couldn't give a person everything they desired while they stepped all over people they deemed less than them.
My father was rich, and I knew firsthand life wasn't a piece of cake. People in their future would thank us for teaching them a lesson, I was sure of that.
I drove down the long driveway to the mansion and parked in the five-car garage that stood off to the front right-side. It was big enough that it could be turned into a smaller house if it was ever needed.
Turning off the engine, I sighed and put my head to the steering wheel. Nothing inside me wanted to go into the house. She'd be waiting for me, and if she wasn't home, it would be one of the maids ready to prick my finger and report my blood sugar.
If it was normal, I'd be okay. Low, she'd be happy. But if it was even a little bit high for whatever reason, she would accuse me of eating off her schedule.
I didn't know if I could handle one of the punishments. I didn't have the energy.
My gaze went to the tan cloth covered car at the other end of the garage, not having been touched since my dad's death even though he left it to me. I hadn't had the coura
ge to drive it, yet. A light-blue with white stripes and tan leather interior; the mint condition 1962 Shelby AC Cobra intimidated me. It was a stick-shift, of course, and I didn't know how to drive those well. I didn't want to ruin the car. I wouldn't touch it until I could find someone to teach me how to drive it and treat it right.
A smile pulled at my lips at the memories it held. My knuckles turned white on the wheel as the last, best memory I had with my dad came to mind. Every Fall, just as the leaves changed colors, he would take me out of school early on a Thursday afternoon, a tradition I always looked forward to.
I climbed into the car and glanced into the back seat. He always had one of the maids pack a bag for me. My mother never came; just a trip for the two of us. She hated the fact he would pull me out of school and then skip one day.
"Where are we going this year, Dad?"
He smiled as the car purred to life. His blue and brown eyes glinting in the sun before he put on his aviators. "Where the road takes us, lamb."
We drove for hours, soon leaving our state behind. The weather was perfect, even with Fall on the horizon, we could have the top down and let the wind blow through our hair.
It was one of the few times I felt badass. Sitting next to him, with my shades on, watching as we passed miles and miles of green trees turning oranges and gold. The radio switched to an oldies station that featured the Beatles, Billie Holiday, and so many other classics that we belted our lungs out to.
It was a good while before we stopped in a small town to fill up on gas and get a bite to eat. There was more travel ahead of us before we would turn around and head back.
We found a diner and picked a booth to sit in.
My dad didn't even bother to look at the menus before he smiled at the older woman with gray curls who stopped at our table, notepad in her hand. "We'll have two cheeseburgers and a heaping plate full of golden, delicious fries, Maude."
She scribbled it down and grinned, blue eyeshadow covered eyes fluttering at him. "And to wash it down, good lookin'?"
He glanced at me, and my grin grew. As he opened his mouth I followed.
"Vanilla shake with extra whip cream!" we said in unison.
Maude laughed. "Two vanilla shakes comin' right up! I'll even throw in some cherries for the darlin'." She turned on her heel, walking behind the counter to a window that faced into the kitchen. A bunch of old men sat at the counter, eating soup with saltines.
I frowned as I thought about the food that was to come. If Mom found out what we were eating on the trip, she'd be livid. Lately, she’d been yelling at me a lot for what I chose to eat.
Dad reached across the table and patted my hand. "What's up, lamb? No looking so sad on our special trip."
I picked at the cuticle on my thumb, another habit my mother hated. "Mom would freak if she knew I was eating this. She slapped me the other day for eating a snack before dinner."
He frowned and looked out the window next to us that gave a view of the highway. "I didn't know about that. I'm sorry. Your mother... your mother has issues she needs to work through. I'm sorry she's forcing them on you."
I shrugged.
He turned his gaze back to me. "I have a question to ask you, and you can one-hundred percent say no if you don't want to do it, okay?"
The tone of his voice sent butterflies into my stomach. I bit my lip and nodded. "Okay."
He leaned forward on the table, interlocking his fingers. "How would you feel if we moved somewhere else? Just you and me?"
I frowned. "And leave Mom?"
He nodded. "Of course, you could still see her if you wanted to. But we could move anywhere you wanted. Even another country."
A grin pulled at my lips. "Even Paris? I loved it there last summer."
He nodded, a smile returning to his face. "Even Paris."
I wouldn't have to worry about Mom yelling at me anymore, or at Dad. They didn't think I could hear them fighting every night, but I did. I couldn't hear what it was about, but yelling was yelling even if it was muffled through the walls.
His grin widened as he swept his dark-brown hair back. "And don't worry. You can keep in touch with your friends, even if we go to Paris. I plan on getting you a phone soon so you can get ahold of me if something happens at home while I'm at work. I wish we could just leave now. In fact, I hoped for that. But some unforeseen things came up with your grandfather's company. I have to stay a month longer than planned. But when it's all over, you and I can get the hell out of town. Start over."
I scoffed. "Thanks, but I don't have friends. Everyone makes fun of me for my red hair and freckles, so I don't make an effort to make friends with anyone anymore. They're all assholes."
He snorted, then shook his head. "Don't swear, Chanel. You're only fourteen. And you're beautiful. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. There are plenty of people out there who would want to have hair and freckles like yours. Magazines like Vogue pay a lot of money for models like you to pose for them."
I cocked my head to the side. "Really?"
"Really, really."
Maude came back over with a tray. She set the burgers down in front of us and a still steaming plate piled high with thick, golden fries. Next came the tall, curvy glasses of vanilla shakes with whipped cream and cherries on top. "Here's your cheeseburgers, fries, and shakes.” She stood back from the table. “Is there anything else I can get for you dears?"
Dad grinned at her and gave her a wink. "No, but thank you, Maude. It looks delicious. Thank the cook for us."
She grinned. "Sure thing, darlin'." Turning, she went back to the counter and filled a guy's cup with black coffee.
Dad picked up the salt shaker and sprinkled it over the fries. Picking one up, he dunked it into his shake before he shoved it into his mouth. His eyes closed and a look of pure joy spread over his face. "The perfect blend of sweet and salty."
I stared at the pile of golden deliciousness. I wanted one, and I wanted to dip it as he had. But as I stared at it, all I could see was my mom's disapproving stare and her hand raised to slap me.
He took a fry and dipped it into my shake before holding it out to me. "Don't worry about your mother. She's not going to bother you anymore. I promise. Eat. This food is too good to let it be wasted."
A small grin pulled at my lips, and I took the fry from him, eating it all and savoring the sweet with the salty. My dad always kept his promises.
Soon, we would be in Paris, or wherever the road took us.
My smile turned to a frown. But he didn't keep his promise.
I shoved open my car door, grabbing my bags and heading into the mansion. No warmth radiated from it. If it weren't for the fact I had no idea how to live on the streets, I would've left long ago. But I didn't have friends. At least not any who would want to take me in and let me sleep on their couch.
Slipping off my shoes, I looked around, waiting for Mother to slink from the shadows.
"You're home later than expected." Her cold tone washed over me, making the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I steeled myself even though I wanted to jump out of my skin. Turning, I faced her. Hair black, eyes brown, and her skin as pale as snow. Nothing like me. Tall, her business suit hugged her impossibly narrow waist. I had a theory she wore corsets, but I had yet to be proven right.
My gaze I lowered. I didn't like staring her in the face. "Cheerleading practice ran long."
Silence filled the room as she scanned me. Her fingers played with a silver amulet around her neck. A symbol of the thing she and some of the other parents worshipped. She turned on her bare heel and walked toward the dining room.
I set my bags at the bottom of the stairs. One of the maids would come by and take them to my room.
Following her in silence, I knew not to expect much conversation. She had a routine she had me stick to even in her absence. She sat down at the dining room table, where only one place was set with a silver dome covering the plate.
I s
at next to her and held out my hand. She took out the kit designated for me.
Taking the lancer, she pricked my finger with the hardest level it had. She squeezed my finger, drawing an expertly round drop before she dabbed it with a strip and placed it in the meter. It only took a second before the numbers appeared on the screen.
I didn't have diabetes, and I didn't believe blood sugar levels had anything to do with weight gain in someone who didn't have an issue with it in the first place. But that didn't stop my mother. To her, what my blood said was everything. It didn't matter if the reasoning didn't make sense in the least. The numbers were all she cared about.
I held in the sigh of relief as the low-end numbers appeared.
Well, that explained why everything felt fuzzy and just on the edge of full comprehension. I couldn't remember the last time my brain felt awake because it got something rich in sugar or carbs and fat.
"You may eat."
I lifted the dome off the plate. A boiled chicken breast that weighed 278g, with only slivers of organic garlic as a seasoning. Steamed broccoli and an eighth of steamed sweet potato, with no seasonings of any kind. She must've felt generous that night if she was okay with giving me a tiny bit of carbs. Everything was weighed, everything had its place on the plate, and if I tried to mix any of it or let it touch even by mistake, she'd make me throw it out, stating it was tainted.
Glancing in her direction, I picked up the fork and knife and carefully cut into the dry meat. No water to help get it down. I couldn't have water until thirty minutes after the meal. Her rules. And the water I drank could only come from the state-of-the-art water purifying system she paid at least a couple hundred thousand for. I guess it helped to be rich when a person had so many issues like she did. " Did you already eat, mother?"