Teachers' Pet

by Amy Brent

  I sit down next to her on the sofa, “Mom, I’m not a kid. Stop trying to protect me. I can handle it. What type of bills?”

  She clears her throat and then with her teary eyes she starts to tell me the story.

  “The car insurance wasn’t paid. So, even though the other guy was drunk and smashed into your dad. Well, it seems as if your dad wasn’t insured and because the car wasn’t paid off, I need to pay for that.”

  I jump up in shock that this is all coming out now.

  “But, its been over a year. Why do they want their money now? They took the house. We sold nearly everything that was worth anything in it. How comes now they want money for the car?”

  She sighs while wiping her tears. I feel bad for not being more sympathetic, but I’m in shock by her statement. I thought our financial issues were about now. Just trying to survive, but I get the impression that mom’s been keeping it a secret all this time. There’s been more to the story and she never told me.

  “Yes and the lawyer fees. I should have told you everything, but you’d lost your dad, and I didn’t want you to get even more upset.”

  I laugh, uncontrollably as I think about the words that just came out of her mouth.

  “You didn’t want to upset me. So, you think that moving out of our home in a nice suburb, didn’t upset me? Or even losing the greatest bully of my life. The one that everyone said to me, that it was okay to cry, but I couldn’t. Because….I still can’t. The only reason I was upset, was because we had to move and I had to be a cleaner. I didn’t hesitate to crying about that. But him. I felt guilty for thinking that he was gone and you were…”

  She shouts, “Enough! I know I should have told you. But you can’t be happy that he’s dead. I can’t believe for one second that you wished that on him.”

  I shake my head and say, “No, I didn’t wish it on him. I wanted you to be free mom. I knew that modeling and getting money was the only way for you to do that. I used to feel guilty thinking that dad was gone and now we can get on with our lives, until I found out that he’s still controlling us. Even from beyond the grave. I hated him when he was alive, and even more when he was dead.”

  I feel a wave of emotion come over me; I don’t regret my words until she slaps me in the face.

  “He was your father!”

  I touch my face, and it stings so badly. I need to get out of here. I want to be nowhere near her right now. She’s living in some sick fantasy thinking that dad was an angel. He was far from it, he bullied and tormented her. She tried her best to hide it until I got older and he did the same thing to me. There’s no surprise that he was drunk behind the wheel. There’s no surprise that I’m not staying in this apartment for another second. Not until she admits that she made a mistake by slapping me. Just the same thing that he used to do, to not only her but for me too.

  Chapter Five

  Darren

  I hate it when Ferguson makes me feel this way. Pathetic. Useless and fucking lonely. Sure, my wife ran out on me. That wasn’t the only thing that turned me into a loser, and he knows it. Everything about my life went upside down, and it all happened in one night.

  The problem with Ferguson is that he’s been brought up completely different to me. He had a trust; he spent most of his time in college socializing. It was clear that he wasn’t there to get an education. Not like the rest of us, especially not like someone like me.

  “I heard that you were here,” Ferguson sighs as he stands by the door. Sometimes, I think that he has the lightest feet in the world because I never hear him coming.

  “I told you to stop creeping up on me. Fuck! One day, you’ll give me a heartache.”

  He takes a deep breath, “Really in my own house. You’re telling me to make a sound when I’m coming?”

  “Where were you?”

  He laughs, “With my Big men in our club. Magdalena told me that you were here. She sent a message, so I decided to stay a bit longer. Drink?”

  I lift up my glass, and he nods, acknowledging that I have one in my hand.

  “Why do you always sit here in the dark? It’s fucking creepy.”

  I sigh, “I know, but your library. Study. Whatever you want to call it. Just makes me feel at ease. Especially, because it overlooks the grounds. I can just watch the peaceful night…”

  He laughs, “That’s because you live in a fucking penthouse. I told you, billionaires don’t live in penthouses. They live in houses!”

  He sits next to me and takes a swing out of his glass.

  “Well, I’m not a billionaire. So, I wouldn’t know.”

  He nods, “True. And this is why you live in a penthouse, and I live in a fucking big house.”

  We both laugh at his statement. Two friends that used to go out of a limb for each other, until the situation changed and it seemed as if only Ferguson did it for me. He’s the one that helped when no one gave a fuck, and I know the other day in his office. I was out of order, but that’s a problem that I can’t get rid off. I’m too fucking stubborn for my own good.

  “You know the other day in your office.”

  He corrects me, “You mean twelve days and nearly two hours. But who’s fucking timing it?”

  Ferguson is, that’s the thing about him. He’s one of the most controlling men that I know on the planet. No CEO knows what time the cleaner clocks in and out every day. If she didn’t clean the desk, if she missed a spot when she was cleaning the previous night or day, but Darren does. Everyone knows that he’s particular and maybe that’s why we’ve always connected.

  “Right. But you know that you have a way of getting under my skin at times, and especially rubbing me up the wrong way.”

  He laughs, “I want a virgin to rub you up. Not me. You should be thanking me instead of acting like a prick about it. I hate it when you do that. And it’s fucking ungrateful. I don’t expect you to be kissing my dick because of the past, but I do expect some respect.”

  I pat him on the back, but then I nearly knock over his glass. The glass goes tumbling on to the sofa, and the ice swiftly follows it.

  “Shit man, I’ll get you another.”

  He shakes his head, “I’m tired. Going to bed. You staying the night?”

  He knows me too well, at times I have more comfort from staying at his, then I do my sterile penthouse. Besides Ferguson’s more traditional than I. He has photos of his family, friends and there’s even a couple of us back in college. He’s everything that I’m not on the surface and the inside. Some question how we’ve managed to stay friends for so long, but the truth be known I don’t know where I’ll be without him. He’s taken me from a darkness that I didn’t even know existed in me and shined light towards it.

  “Sure.”

  “Good, I’m going to bed. Tomorrow you can kiss my cock and say thank you.”

  I chuckle at his statement. He’s right. The last time we did the virgin, it was fun. He showed me a different side to me, one that I didn’t even know existed and in a way, I suppose that scared me the most. I’m not like Ferguson; I wish I were in so many ways. He can detach himself from sex and love. I just don’t seem to be able to do it. Then again, that night proved that I was able to do it. I just hope that I can do it again.

  ***

  The next day, I get up late, and I feel nauseated as I head down to breakfast. I have clothes here; I stay over regularly at times. Ferguson even suggested that I should move in. We’re close, but I have a feeling that I move in, it’ll be an open invitation for him to rope me into that sugar daddy club of his. I don’t mind experimenting, once maybe twice. But on a regular basis, it would be too close for comfort.

  “Morning.”

  I look up, and he’s sitting at the table, already back from a jog.

  “Seriously, do you ever sleep. I mean it’s seven. You left me at like…”

  “Midnight,” he says, and I’m waiting for him to tell me the exact second that he left, but he doesn’t. There’s no doubt in my mind that he
probably knows it.

  “You need to eat. When was the last time you had a good meal?”

  I shake my head to his question. He’s right that it has been a while. I’m a lot further in my life than I was two years ago. Sometimes I feel insecure. It creeps into me like a bad spell and fucking messes around with my mind. I’ve been spending too much drinking and not a lot of time eating lately.

  “What’s Magdalena whipping up today?”

  I turn to face her, she’s Ferguson’s housekeeper, and she probably knows just about everything about him, like I do at the best of times. He confides in her, and I’ve even seen them sitting at night on the porch talking a few times. They have a mutual respect for each other. I asked if he’d fucked her once and then I could see by the indifference in his expression, that it was most likely a yes.

  She beams, “Whatever you want me to cook for you, Darren? Do you want the same as Ferguson?”

  I shake my head at the idea of eating one of Ferguson’s healthy shit. He’s sitting sipping on a green smoothie as if it’s a glass of wine. I hate to think what he’s going to eat as his next dish.

  “Fill me up with all the shit that Ferguson won’t eat.”

  She laughs, “Pancakes, bacon, and eggs.”

  I run to her and say, “It’s as if you can read my mind.”

  She nods, “Coming up.”

  Ferguson shakes his head as I come to sit back down.

  “You trying to make me jealous?”

  “No, why would you think that Ferguson?”

  He smirks as says it low enough for me to hear and Magdalena not to hear.

  “Flirting with Magdalena isn’t a consideration in this house.”

  “Why not? Are you fucking her?”

  He lifts an eyebrow and says, “No. And neither are you. She’s too precious for that. I would never commit such an act. Unlike the virgin that for our Christmas treat. You ready to join the club?”

  Magdalena gives me a wink as she puts the orange juice, pancakes, and bacon on the table.

  “Magdalena, did you know that I wanted it for breakfast?”

  She laughs, “One thing about you. You never change. Everything’s the same.”

  I watch as she walks away and flicks her long dark hair, she could easily be Penelope Cruz’s younger sister. They have the same olive skin and seductive looks as the actress.

  Ferguson blurts out, “You better join the club. Because, if you even think of going there our friendships over. Get it!”

  The seriousness is written all over his face as he folds his paper and holds his stare. Maybe he’s right I’m so sexually frustrated that I’m thinking of the one woman that Ferguson has told me is off limits.

  “Magdalena is like a little sister to me. Don’t!”

  He gets up and heads to the kitchen and kisses her on the cheek as she hands him a plate of more greens. It’s as if he’s telling me that she’s off limits. I knew that, but curiosity got the better of me as I wondered the real reason for it. I suppose at the end of the day; it’s none of my business. I need to focus on one thing, joining the club and getting rid of this obsession with Magdalena. Because it’s clear that it’s driving me insane.

  Chapter Six

  Ida

  The last few weeks, I’ve been staying with Amy. She’s been great helping me out, and when her sugar daddy comes along, I have to make myself scares and get out of their way. She told me that I just need to be patient for the announcements to be made. That soon I’ll be classed as the winner of the competition. I don’t know how she’s so sure because I have no money. I cleared out my account and slipped the few dollars that I had in it, under the door with my apartment key and gave it to mom.

  I knew that she was out on the job at the time, it was a coward thing to do, but I was so damn mad. She slapped me as if I was some tramp. Not her daughter, not the one that deserved to know the truth and I hated her for it.

  Not so much hated her, but I just don’t understand how a man can treat you so badly and even beyond the grave she’s loyal to him. It makes no sense, I did think about contacting grandma and some of the relatives and telling them the truth about mom. Telling them that she lies to them. Nothing’s fine, but then after talking about it with Amy. That’s mom decision, not mine. It’s just so damn frustrating at the best of times.

  I know that being here is going to help her in the long run. I’m in Starbucks, just watching the world go by with some magazines and Amy lends me her iPad for days like these. They only happen once a week, and it’s a break from cleaning. God, I never knew how much I hated cleaning until now.

  I smile as I watch the mom’s come in for their regular timeslots. I wonder at times, what they would do if all the Starbucks were closed down. Where would they go? They’ll be forced to go to each other’s houses, and then they’ll find themselves lost because they’ll have nowhere to go.

  I laugh at my analogy and then find myself listening to them, instead of the other way around. That’s when I see Amy running towards me.

  Did she call?

  She usually sends a message to tell me that I can go back to hers when I’m ready. Friday’s going to be a bit weird; she’s going on a skiing trip with him for two weeks over Christmas. So, if I don’t win, then I’ll be alone.

  I jump up and nearly drop the iPad.

  Crap!

  She grabs my hand and says, “Good news. You’re in!”

  “I won?”

  She nods her head, and then we jump up and down like little kids. The same way that we did when Charlie Grove asked me to the Prom. This time is different. There’s more at stake, and it means that I can not only get to go to Paris, but I can get on with my life. I’ll make sure that I give enough to mom for her to survive. She deserves that, even if I don’t particularly like her. She’s my mom, and nothing will change about that.

  Everyone in Starbucks is looking at us; I don’t care, because for the first time in a long time. Things are finally going my way.

  Chapter Seven

  Darren

  I can’t believe that we’re doing this on Christmas Eve. The girl’s on her way, and I must admit that she looks too innocent to sign-up for something like this, but yet Seth, Darren’s brother, says that she comes from a reliable source. I don’t want to know what that means. Sometimes in the club, they talk about women as if they’re talking about cattle.

  I suppose that’s the joy of the rich and powerful. They can do whatever they feel like because they feel that they can control everything.

  “You thought about how you want to play this first?” Ferguson asks as I wait for him in his study. I could have stayed the night, but I felt like going home otherwise Ferguson would want to be talking about it all night, and right now I started to feel nervous again.

  “Shit, you’re not chickening out again are you?”

  “Sorry, I was miles away. No, I’m not Ferguson. Just have a lot on my mind.”

  He shrugs, “Well the next three days will take you away from work.”

  I choke, “You can forget about it for a while. Fuck, knows what went down the last few days. It was fucking crazy because one minute my CFO’s in my office telling me that there’s an investigation into my accounts and the next he’s fucking cleaning out his office.”