~
The following week consisted of jumping through various bureaucratic hoops and government red tape to get Cal enrolled in school. Since she’d been born at home and not in a hospital, she officially didn’t exist in the eyes of the state of California. The problem was only compounded by the fact that her aunt had a different last name than her.
“I’m Jenkins, she’s Mackenzie!” Angie screamed into the phone after being left on hold for the umpteenth time. She finally hung up in frustration. “What a pain in the ass!”
“I’m sorry,” Cal said, feeling completely helpless.
Angie looked Cal over with a skeptical eye. “You really need to get some clothes for school.”
“I have clothes,” Cal said.
“Trust me, honey,” Angie said, “It’s time for some new ones.”
Cal looked down. “But I don’t have any money.”
“I’m kinda broke right now too, but once Phil gets a job things will be easier. Maybe this summer I can get you work at the restaurant. You could start out hostessing or something.”
“What’s hostessing?” asked Cal.
“It’s when you show people where to sit down in the restaurant.”
Cal was confused. “They pay people to do that?”
Angie laughed; she was getting used to her niece and all of her strange questions. She had to patiently explain how to do the simplest of things, whether it was showing Cal how to work the washing machine or teaching her not to put metal into the microwave. The girl needed to learn everything from scratch, as if she were a little kid, making Angie feel almost motherly.
Always a free spirit, Angie had never married or settled down, and everyone seemed to think she was flaky. Having Cal around made her feel like she was finally a grown-up. She started thinking that maybe it wasn’t too late to start a family after all … Phil might even marry her if they had a baby. She smiled to herself, imagining it.
As for Cal, it was as though she had walked through the wardrobe and ended up in Narnia. Everything was new and strange to her, and she was always a bundle of nerves from the unfamiliar noises. Cars whooshed by on the road, electronics buzzed and hummed, and the non-stop sound of sports blared from Phil’s television set.
After a few days she started to relax a little, settling into the rhythm of her new home. Angie worked nights as a waitress at a downtown steakhouse, getting in late and sleeping in most mornings. Cal did her best to keep out of Phil’s way, staying in her room when her aunt wasn’t around.
After a couple of awkward visits with a counselor, Cal was finally enrolled in school, and she was nervous about going in on her first day. She’d never had any friends her own age, and couldn’t imagine what she would talk about with other students. She got up early, laying out a simple dress her mother had sewn, paired with some hand-me-down shoes the sheriff had brought by on one of his visits. She went to take a long, hot shower.
Her favorite part of living with her aunt was definitely the bathroom. She’d grown up taking quick baths with water boiled on a wood-burning stove, so having hot water at the turn of a knob was an almost unimaginable luxury. Standing under the warming rain was pure heavenly bliss, and it helped Cal miss her quiet life in the wilderness a little bit less.
She got out of the shower and dried off, brushing her long hair and wrapping a towel around herself. When she stepped out into the hall she nearly collided with Phil.
“Oh! Excuse me,” she said, looking down.
He didn’t move, and his massive bulk blocked the path to her room. She glanced up to see him studying her with intense interest. The wrong kind of interest. Uncomfortable, she looked back down immediately.
“Excuse me,” she said meekly, trying to go around him.
He stepped to the side, barring her path.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, his voice seductive and threatening at the same time. She stepped back, afraid to look up again, finally spinning on her heel and slipping back into the bathroom. She locked the door, her heart pounding in her throat.
For an instant, she felt like she was back in the woods, being stalked by a hungry predator. She listened carefully for the sound of his footsteps receding, goosebumps rising on her flesh.
She looked in the mirror at her frightened eyes, and for the first time since she’d come to her aunt’s house, she wished she was carrying her knife.
~
Chapter Three
HARRASSED
The Athena Effect Page 6