Heiress to Waitress

by Ginny Clyde

  He opened to let me inside his room. The walls were already covered with posters of his favorite teams from the English Premier League. It felt like I’d entered a TV showroom with each screen playing a different sports channel.

  “What do you need?” he asked, still in his pajamas.

  Tearing my eyes from the colorful posters, I handed him the list. “Can you get these books from the library, please?”

  “Why can’t you get it?”

  “I don’t have a library card yet. I just have a temporary access card, but it won’t let me bring any books home.”

  “Fine,” he said, putting the paper in his jacket pocket.

  I was about to leave when he called me back.

  “How do you know if I got my library card?”

  I shrugged. “I saw you with a bunch of your friends coming out of there. So, I guessed.”

  He grinned. “They like me here. They even find my accent attractive.”

  I sniggered. Of course, they found my goofy, handsome brother “attractive”. He had a way of getting along with most people. I was choosier about the people I befriended. It wasn’t shyness, exactly. I just took more time to trust people.

  “See you at breakfast,” I said, hurrying out of his room.

  I went downstairs. Sarah was stirring something over the stove. From the smell, I could tell it was porridge. “Morning, Mother,” I said, taking a seat at the table.

  “You’re up early, Olivia.” She said, turning to look at me. “I am making oats porridge. Do you want fruit with it?”

  “No. Just simple is fine,” I said.

  After serving me, she resumed drinking from her cup. “I am going out this afternoon to get our new car. Keep your Sunday free. I am taking you and your brother somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “I am not saying until the day arrives. In the end, I may not have the courage to go there myself.”

  I frowned at her cryptic message but shrugged it off. As far as my schedule went, I would be home and studying. Without friends, I had zero plans for the weekend anyway.

  I was done with breakfast before James came down. After a quick shower, I opened my wardrobe to choose what to wear. Only a mauve dress remained. The rest of my clothes were stacked up in a basket in the corner. Along with homework, there would be laundry to do that weekend.

  Picking up my bag, I took one last look at myself in the mirror. The mauve dress hung a little loose on me, but overall it was the best outfit that came in my suitcase from Edinburgh. I wished there were shoes to match it. I turned away from my reflection, or there would be a long wish list of what I’d like to pair the dress with.

  Before heading out the door, I pecked a kiss on Sarah’s cheek. Even though it was another clear day, the trees were beginning to look less green. Yellowing leaves peeked among the jade. A cold breeze blew past, shifting my long, blond tresses. Autumn was about to come to Knightswood.

  When I reached near the school, I noticed several people staring at me as I walked through the main front gates of the school. They nudged their friends and pointed at me. Keeping my gaze on the ground, I moved on. At the same time, I ran my fingers through my hair to check if a leaf or something funny was stuck to it. Next, I checked the state of my dress and made sure it was covering my legs the right way.

  Ryan Hargrove wasn’t waiting at the gates today. Just when I could have used some company, he was nowhere to be seen. I entered the school front lawns. Jenny and her friends were sitting on their favorite bench, but instead of glaring at me, their gazes held curiosity. That was really strange.

  I made my way to the Washington Building for English. When I was on the stairs going past the second floor, I heard Stacie’s voice behind me.

  “Where were you lost?” she asked, panting heavily. “I was shouting for so long.”

  “Really? I suppose I was distracted. Jenny and her friends were being so weird.”

  “Of course, they were. You stunned the school yesterday afternoon. Too bad I didn’t have your phone number or I’d have called you. Anyway, let’s swap before I forget,” said Stacie, rummaging in her backpack.

  “Let’s get to class first,” I said, noticing other students staring at us.

  “Hey, Braveheart!” a passing boy shouted and grinned at me. He hopped up the staircase and was soon out of sight.

  Stacie chuckled. “That’s a good nickname.”

  “Is this about the music competition?” I asked, wondering if it had been a mistake after all.

  “Yep. They all love you now.”

  I laughed out loud. “What?”

  “You saved the school’s dignity as well as Mr. Varner’s. Do you have any idea how heroic it looked? Like people booing and you just coolly start playing the bagpipe. And what a playing that was! I thought I hated the sound of bagpipes until I heard you playing it.”

  Stacie continued talking without pause. Was it really heroic? I remembered wanting to teach the arrogant boy from St. Paul’s a lesson, but that was it. I didn’t think beyond that.

  “Do people really think that way or are you making this up?” I asked, cutting her off as we entered the classroom.

  “It’s the truth, Olivia. You just saw that kid calling you Braveheart.”

  I had not even watched that movie. I knew how it ended though. The protagonist, William Wallace, died a horrible death at the hands of the English. While Stacie took her seat in the second row, I made my way to the last row. Ryan Hargrove had not arrived yet. It was a short peaceful moment before the bell rang.

  With the last ring, Mr. Goon entered. A number of students arrived behind him. I could easily spot Ryan’s dark head among them. Girls turned in their seats to watch him stroll down the gap between desks to reach his seat. When he sat down, their gaze shifted to me. They all frowned. This was normal.

  “Hey,” he whispered.

  “Hi,” I muttered back, letting my hair fall in such a way that it curtained my face from him. I should have been used to being close to him, but my heart still raced like the first day we sat together.

  Mr. Goon began teaching and before long, I focused on writing down some of the points he dictated to the class. For a while, I had almost forgotten the boy who sat near me.

  A small piece of folded paper landed on my notebook. Ducking behind the boy in front of me to hide from the teacher, I slowly unfolded it.

  I will wait by the school at three- RH

  My eyes widened as I read it. Turning towards him, I mutely gestured to ask him why.

  He snatched the paper from my desk and scribbled into it again.

  Drive you to the tea shop- RH

  It took me a moment to get over the fact that Ryan Hargrove wanted to chauffeur me around in his car. It astonished me when I didn’t feel aversion or anger at the idea. In fact, it seemed like the most natural thing. A warm hand brushed my hand. I looked back into his brilliant blue eyes, full of questions.

  I shook my head and scribbled into the piece of paper. It was difficult as the small scrap of paper was already too full of his handwriting. Still, I managed to write a line in minuscule letters.

  No work today- OB

  Making sure Mr. Goon was not looking my way, I passed the note to him. He put the scrap of paper back in his pocket. No longer focused on the lecture, I thought of the boy next to me. Jenny obviously liked him enough to be mean and nasty to a stranger. She and her friends made sure to let me know how they felt every time they saw me talking to him. Yet, he never seemed to take any interest in them.

  Stacie had told me he kept to himself. Last night he admitted not wanting to let people close to him because there were things he didn’t want to let people know. I decided to ask Stacie for more information after the class and looked ahead at Mr. Goon.

  When the bell rang to signal the end of class, I saw Stacie coming towards me.

  “Almost done,” I said, putting my notebook and pen case inside my bag. “It’s a free hour now, isn’t it?”
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br />   “Not exactly. I kinda forgot to tell you. Mr. Varner asked me to take you to his office in the second hour. He wants to speak with you.”

  “I suppose this was coming up. Gatecrashing a music competition will have its consequences,” I said, pulling the bag’s handle over my shoulder.

  Stacie laughed, but she stopped abruptly.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, as her gaze was not on me. Coming out of my seat, I turned towards the direction of her gaze. Ryan Hargrove’s piercing blue eyes were fixed on Stacie who looked startled.

  “Hi,” she said in a hesitant tone.

  “Hello,” said Ryan Hargrove.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s always like that,” I said, tugging on Stacie’s hand and leading her out of the classroom.

  “How can you be so casual around him?” asked Stacie in awe. “I was about to swoon just because he looked at me.”

  “You get used to him,” I muttered. Taking a deep breath, I changed the subject. “Which way is Mr. Varner’s office?”

  “I am taking you there. It always feels nice to meet him.”

  I giggled at the depth of her crush on the young teacher. She led me to the same building where the administrative department was located. She led me past a large hall with glass cubicles to a door with the name plaque ‘Arthur Varner’.

  Stacie knocked on the door and entered the office room. Mr. Varner sat behind a desk, working on a laptop. Seeing us, he jumped up to greet us.

  “Hi, Stacie. I am glad you brought your friend.” Up close, he seemed to be about near thirty. He wore a white cotton shirt over navy blue trousers. He had warm, blue eyes and a friendly smile. Extending his hand towards me, he said, “Arthur Varner. Music enthusiast at Knightswood High.”

  My hands were lost in his big, hairy ones. I smiled back at his enthusiastic greeting. His attitude made me feel welcome and I found myself immediately warming up to him.

  “You put on a smashing show yesterday afternoon. Just smashing! You put the St. Paul’s Academy students in their right place.” His smile vanished to be replaced by a scowl. “I have a feeling one of them poisoned Andrew.”

  “What?”

  “Andrew said one of them handed him a bottle of water at lunch. Too bad we can’t prove anything because the bottle was never found, so we can’t test it.”

  As I thought of the gray-eyed boy, a chill slowly dropped my spine. He had planned all of this just to get Knightswood High disqualified from the competition. Rich, spoiled brat who would do anything to get what he desires. It was a dangerous type that often showed up at the Academy.

  “Is he all right, though?” I asked.

  “No. He suffered diarrhea yesterday. I will be driving to the hospital soon to check up on him.” His expression turned grim as he fixed his attention on me. “Knightswood High’s position in the competition will remain as long as you continue to stay on the team. If you back out, the whole team will suffer. At the moment, we are tied for the first place with St. Paul’s Academy. You surprised the judges with that performance. Heck, you surprised us all.” His smile was back again.

  “Do you mean I become part of the team?” I asked.

  “Yes. We don’t generally take in students without throwing them a few tests to see if they meet the team’s skill level, but you are in. We all got to see what you’ve got.”

  “You should hear her play the piano,” chimed in Stacie.

  “You play the piano too?” Mr. Varner eyes widened as he leaned forward in his chair.

  I squirmed in my seat but nodded. “I am not sure I can do this, though.”

  “Why not? You are amazing.”

  “Thank you.” I paused for a few seconds to think how to put my real reason in proper words. “I would not have time to commit to such a serious competition, Sir. I work at a restaurant four days a week. I am barely keeping up with school work. You must find someone to replace me. Perhaps, Andrew will be well enough?”

  Mr. Varner’s face showed his disappointment. “The competition won’t let Andrew participate until next year. You have taken his place and it was allowed only because it was just the preliminary round. Your name is locked among the competition participants now.”

  “So, if I don’t participate, the whole team gets booted?”

  “Yes.”

  I stared at him, my panic rising. “But that’s insane! I can’t possibly be in a competition!”

  “I won’t pressure you, Olivia, but a lot of those students are hoping to impress scouts from performing arts schools to get a scholarship. You are their only hope. I must insist strongly that you reconsider.”

  I remained silent, not knowing what to say.

  “I will not force you to practice with the team for now. I will give you the routine and the music sheets to play. You come in whenever you can and practice.”

  “Anytime I want?” I asked.

  “We are desperate.”

  This was an amazing opportunity to play and practice on the school piano without Jenny or any other person interfering. I missed music so much. The only thing that hung heavy on me was this competition that I knew nothing about.

  “Please say yes, Olivia,” pressed Stacie. Her brown eyes were brimming with tears.

  “What if I let the team down because I didn’t practice enough? What would be the good in that?” I asked.

  “No one will hold you responsible. I will make clear of your circumstances to the other team members. Most of them are from modest families and they will understand your struggles to work while you study. They just want a chance to participate and showcase their talents to the scouts. Winning would definitely help them secure places at good universities, but they are willing to take whatever comes their way.”

  “There’s nothing to lose, really,” added Stacie. “Practice whenever you like.”

  “Also, did I mention the winning team students receive a scholarship prize worth of five thousand dollars? Each!”

  “Really?”

  He grinned. “Yep.”

  “All right, then,” I said, my heart drumming in my chest. “I am in.”

  Chapter 11

  Sarah baked a cake after I told her about my decision to enter the music competition. She found the recipe in the old diary that had belonged to her mother. To both mine and James’s surprise, it had turned out to be delicious. It was not a complicated thing, but the spongy soft cake was buttery with a hint of vanilla and nutmeg in it. We didn’t let it last beyond Saturday dinner.

  However, we never went to the mysterious place that Sarah told us about. It didn’t cause me any inconvenience because I remained shut in my room for most of the weekend. There was plenty to catch up with. By the time Sunday evening rolled in, I had finished all the exercise problems set by Mr. Brown, studied the chapters for English and even made through the first three chapters of the history book. I was happy with all the progress I made, but to think that school would restart the next day and another mountain of homework would pile up, left me feeling thwarted.

  “How was your weekend?” I asked James at the dinner table on Sunday.

  “Good,” he said, devouring a roast potato whole. “I practiced soccer with the boys from school.”

  “Soccer?”

  “They don’t have hockey in this school. So, I went with soccer.” He swallowed a big mouthful of salad and then said, “I am beginning to like it.”

  I went back to my food. At least, my brother got to enjoy this weekend. Sarah was watching me, so I ate the rest of the time in silence, occasionally answering James. I did not want to complain about my hectic schedule in front of her because she would badger me to quit the job at the tea shop immediately.

  Sunday evening seemed to fly by and Monday arrived with the usual fervor of hurrying to get ready for school. The trees outside my window had begun changing colors. Apart from the light jacket I brought with me from Edinburgh, there was nothing warmer in my wardrobe. I wore it over the blue shirt that had been paired with jeans.


  At breakfast, I brought up the issue.

  “Mother, we need winter things. I just have this jacket and soon, it won’t be enough,” I told her.

  “I will take you both shopping next month,” she said, looking up from the newspaper. “We might get some stuff cheap at the thrift shop in the town center.”

  “Thrift shop?” James asked, his eyebrows raised. “What if they came with fleas?”

  “They don’t come with fleas!”

  “I don’t want anything from there,” drawled James. “No way!”

  “James,” said Sarah helplessly. “Snow boots can be expensive. We also need to have a budget for extra heating. Winters are long up here.”

  “Isn’t it bad enough we have to live here?” he said, pushing away his plate of half-eaten toast. It collided with the carton of juice and toppled it. We jumped back in our chairs while the bright orange liquid quickly spread through the pale tablecloth.

  “James!” hissed Sarah, her cheeks reddening. “Behave.”

  James’s fists were balled at his side. Without a word, he picked up his bag and left the kitchen. We heard the front door open and close with a loud bang. A low sob caught my attention. Sarah was clutching her shirt over her chest as tears rolled down her face.

  “Mother,” I said, going to her. I rubbed her back to soothe her. “Don’t take it like that. He was just upset. You know he doesn’t say much. It just comes out sounding horrible.”

  “But he’s right, though. You children should not be needing stuff from charity.”

  I didn’t know what to say. James and I were doing our best to fit in with the present situation, but it left us frayed and frustrated at times. Looking at the sobbing woman in my arms, I felt guilty. It wasn’t fair that she had to suddenly take up all the responsibility. My Uncle Kelvin was the one to blame for everything.

  “Just buy him what he needs from a proper shop,” I said. “I will buy my own things. Besides, he’s a boy. A good coat or jacket will last him through the season. Same with shoes. He won’t need to match his accessories, you know,” I said with a roll of my eyes in an attempt to lighten her mood.