Aftercare: General's Daughter, Book 4

by Breanna Hayse

  “To what? These juvenile math games? Please.”

  “Okay, solve this one since you think you’re so smart. Come up here to the board.”

  “Don’t need to. It’s 2(3v7) fractioned by 18 to the square 9th.”

  “Wrong!”

  “You better recheck your answer.”

  His face reddened as he looked in the book.

  The girl leaned back, arms crossed. “Got another?”

  “Go to the office.”

  “For what? Being smarter than a fifth grader?” She laughed, gathering her things and leaving the room and hearing the twitters behind her. Grinning, she entered the office. “I was told to come down here because your calculus teacher didn’t like how I solve problems.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I answered his question without going to the board. He didn’t like that.” The girl shrugged. The secretary went to the principal’s door, tapping on it.

  “Come in, Miss Lewis. Have a seat,” the man said with a warm smile. “Welcome. I’m Mr. Dell. What seems to be the problem?”

  “Not sure, to be honest. I answered the questions without needing to use the black board and he didn’t seem to appreciate it. That and I kept falling asleep. He’s really boring.”

  “I gather the class isn’t much of a challenge for you?”

  “I was able to do those problems by third grade.”

  “Ah yes, home schooled. Do you think College Prep Calculus would be more your style?”

  “Is it the highest math class you have?”

  “No, Calculus 3 is.”

  “Then that one.”

  “I don’t think you would be ready for it, do you?”

  “Try me.”

  “Very well, you can start it tomorrow. Same period. I must warn you, though, it’s very difficult.”

  “Good. If not, I’ll be napping again.” The girl shrugged.

  Mr. Dell twined his fingers. “I know this is a new school for you, but please give it a chance. This is your future we’re talking about.”

  “We’ll see. Can I go now?”

  “Yes. You have French next, right?”

  ***

  “OH! You insufferable child. To the office!” the French teacher ordered after Sam bombarded her, in perfect French, about every grammatical error the woman made. Grinning, she returned to the office.

  “What now?”

  “Your French teacher is illiterate.”

  “Really? How do you know?” Mr. Dell asked patiently.

  “The question is better phrased how do you not know? She speaks like a hillbilly.”

  “I suppose you consider yourself fluent.”

  “I don’t consider myself fluent. I am fluent.”

  “Very well. Do you have another language you would like to sit in for?”

  “Got pig Latin?”

  “How about regular Latin?”

  “How high?”

  “3”

  “We’ll try it. At least I won’t have to listen to the teacher speak.”

  Mr. Dell sighed. “Miss Lewis, you’re a smart kid. There’s no question there, but you are very disruptive. If you are sent to me again, I will have to call you father to come get you.”

  “He’s in DC with my uncle.”

  “Then your older brother. Please, don’t make me do that.”

  ***

  “Hi Michael,” Sam said with a smile as he entered Mr. Dell’s office. She had been sent, once again, this time by the English teacher who wanted her to read War and Peace aloud. She started quoting the book, page by page, without looking at it. She then started quoting it in the original text, which was Russian.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, glancing at her.

  She smiled. “Mr. Dell thinks I need to go home.”

  “Mr. Lewis,” the principal shook Michael’s hand, “I’m sorry to bother you. Your sister has been a bit disruptive today. It seems her education exceeds the norm for this school.”

  “Yes, sir, I’m sure it does. However, the reason she is coming is to learn how to GET ALONG in a normal environment. My suggestion is to place her in the highest level classes you have available and some sports activities. If you have gymnastics or swim, she excels in those.”

  “I’d rather be wrestling, Michael.”

  “You will sit there and be quiet,” her brother ordered. “We will discuss this when we get home. I’m sorry, Mr. Dell. I know she can be a challenge. She’s a little spoiled.”

  “She’s a smart kid, I would hate to see it go to waste.”

  “Me, too. Samantha, to the car,” Michael ordered, shaking the man’s hand before escorting his sister out. He was very quiet during the drive home.

  “So, how was work today?” his sister asked, trying to make conversation.

  He glanced at her. “I was late for my meeting and only worked three hours before being called to pick my little sister up at school for being disruptive. Didn’t Scott tell you not to show off?”

  “They were terrible, Mike. Listen…” She told him what happened, knowing, of all people, he would understand.

  He did. “I get it. They want you to dumb down for these people for some stupid reason. Maybe to make you more tolerant. I don’t know. But just do it. If I get called out of work again, you’ll be facing the floor while over my knee.”

  “That isn’t fair, Mike. You can’t punish me for my knowledge. Hell, it is Daddy’s fault for making me learn all this stuff. It is wrong to expect me to act stupid.”

  “Sam, I am not telling you again. Behave yourself, okay? And just keep quiet. You don’t need to prove anything to any one them. Use this as an opportunity to research. Pretend they are sea lions and you are observing the social interactions for the pod.”

  “Fine, but don’t expect me to be happy about this.”

  “I don’t, but I really don’t want to have to spank you for it either. Got my drift, kid?”

  Sam simply grunted.

  That Friday, Sam was approached by the blond guy she had seen in study hall. She had just returned from the principal’s office to discuss her clothing choices. Apparently, bare mid-rifts with belly button rings were not considered ‘appropriate attire’.

  “It’s Samantha, right?”

  “Yeah? What of it?”

  “I was wondering if you wanted to go to the after game party tonight. We usually get a couple of kegs.”

  “Sounds like fun. I will have to sneak out, but that’s no problem. Where and when?”

  He gave her the information and she began to plot her moves. The game ended at ten that night with the party starting by eleven o’clock at Les’ house. Her school night curfew was nine-thirty, so she reasoned it had the potential to work. Grumbling about having to waste time doing useless ‘homework’ and complaining about her promise to cooperate with Michael, the girl said her goodnights and went upstairs. As expected, both Michael and Rich came in to tuck her in for the night by ten, and then went back down to watch TV. At ten-thirty, she snuck down the hall to her father’s room and slipped out through his balcony window to the outside stairs. Scott’s Hummer was parked under the trees, and no one could hear her start the engine and drive away.

  Once at the party, Sam began to survey the environment. She only sipped some beer, watching the activity carefully as she looked for clues. The location was a large, newer two-story home with a canyon on one side and a retaining wall on the other. The house was fairly innocuous to look at, but an attentive eye would notice that the late-night visitors were young and primarily female. She was curious as to why the neighbors didn’t raise some questions or call the police, given the racket of the party. Sam looked around her, smiling absently as she pretended to drink. She noticed one older man, obviously military, going from girl to girl and introducing them to some of the boys. She pretended to be slightly drunk when he approached her, spilling the liquid on her jeans.

  “Does your daddy know you’re out this late, pretty girl?” the man
asked. His stare and demeanor made her uncomfortable.

  She feigned a giggle. “I snuck out. I always do. He’s too busy working anyway. What’s your name?”

  “Bob. And you?”

  “Samantha. I’m new in the area. Nice party, by the way.” She pretended to sway to the music.

  “Very nice party.” He looked around, grinning as the couples began to make-out. “Tell me, pretty Samantha, do you work or does Daddy give you money to pay for your beauty treatments? You must get a lot to be so gorgeous. How old are you, anyway?”

  “16,” she lied. “You’re funny. No, to your question. I don’t have a job and I only get an allowance. It forces me to sometimes have to, uh, sneak out and borrow, things. I am kind of on probation right now.” She snickered.

  “A pretty little thief, huh? Daddy wouldn’t be happy knowing that you have resorted to stealing, would he?”

  “My motto is that what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him. I do what I want, when I want.”

  “I like you, girl. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No thanks, I think I might have had too much already. I need to get home before my oldest brother sees that I’m gone. Now that boy watches me like a hawk,” she said, letting him know her absence would be noticed by someone.

  He nodded, shaking her hand. “I have ways of ditching big brothers and over-protective parents. I will teach them to you, if you like. I do hope to see you again very soon, you beautiful creature.”

  “That sounds like a plan. Maybe you can think of some ideas for me to make some quick money. I need to look like I am trying to reform to keep the parole asshole off my case.”

  “I might have some business prospects that you might be interested in. We can chat about the later.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll do anything for extra cash. See you, ‘k?”

  It was two in the morning when Sam pulled into Scott’s parking place under the trees. She silently climbed back into the house through her father’s room and crept down the hall. She opened the door to her room and felt her heart pound wildly as both Michael and Rich were waiting patiently on her bed.

  “Oh shit,” she whispered, frozen in place. This was not good.

  “I told you she was okay. Did you have a good evening?” Michael asked.

  “I smell beer. Have you been drinking?” Rich asked as well. She bit her lip, debating what to do. She decided on the truth. At least the superficial part of it.

  “I went to an after game party. I only had a couple of sips, but I spilled some on my jeans when this guy bumped into me.”

  “You’re supposed to be grounded,” Rich said with a frown. She had never seen that expression on him before; it was as lovely as his smile, but infinitely more frightening.

  “I know, I’m sorry. I wanted to see what being normal felt like. I mean, that’s what you guys are pushing for, right?”

  Michael sighed. “I’m just glad you are okay. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. You’re in trouble, little girl. For sneaking out, breaking restriction and being out past curfew.”

  “Also for taking Scott’s truck without permission and drinking and driving. I don’t care how little it was. You know my sentiments about that. Those are house rules, too.” Rich’s expression looked dark. The girl shuddered, suddenly wishing she only had to deal with Michael. There was something foreboding in Rich’s demeanor that she had never witnessed. It alarmed her.

  “I’m going to bed. Like I said, we will talk about this first thing in the morning. Night, Rich,” Michael said, kissing his sister’s forehead.

  “Night, Mike. I’m staying in here tonight in case the little jail bird wants to take flight.” Rich turned to the girl, stretching to his full height. His 6’4” frame loomed over her and she swallowed visibly. She eyed his arm muscles; they were as wide as her thighs. His green eyes were dark with no softness to his face; he was livid. “I am so angry right now, Samantha. How dare you pull such a stunt?”

  “I have my reasons, Rich. Please, you need to trust me.”

  “Were you out with someone else?” he asked.

  So, that was it. He was jealous. She shook her head. “Oh, my god, how could you even think that? There is nobody who could ever come close to you in my eyes or heart. What brought this on? Did I do something to make you think I was cheating on you?”

  “No.” He sounded sulky.

  “Then what? I swear, I would never do that. I love you,” she whispered, placing her hands on his chest.

  His heart was thudding quickly as he looked down at her. “You scared the living hell out of me when I came up here and you were gone. Mike said he could tell you were okay, but it didn’t matter. Why did you leave? Seriously, Sam, I want the whole truth. You have never been interested in any of this shit before.”

  “I was just being stupid. I did something I have never had the opportunity to do – I went to a party. I guess I’m feeling a little defiant.”

  “Your defiance is going to hurt all of us. I am really itching to blister your bottom right now, and then make love to you until you scream. Why do you do this to me?”

  “I’m sorry, Rich. Please forgive me. If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you make love to me.” She grinned.

  He did not smile back. “Not unless I get to blister you first. That time will be coming shortly. I swear that if I feel Michael is too soft on you because of his promise to your folks, I will take up the slack. This was completely unacceptable behavior tonight. Drinking and driving?” He sounded exasperated. “What the hell were you thinking, Sammi?”

  “I told you it was stupid,” she said quietly. She wished she could explain. “Do you mind if I call Daddy before I go to bed? He’ll be up by now. It’s six a.m. his time.”

  “Go ahead. Maybe he can make some sense of this,” Rich said, sliding into her bed and leaning against her backboard.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Sam said quietly.

  “Honey? Are you okay? It’s 0300!”

  “I did something really stupid that I need to tell you about.”

  “Are the boys around?”

  “Rich is right here and Michael already went to bed. Did you want me to put you on speaker?”

  “Damn. Go ahead. Scott, come in here. Code intervention.”

  Sam put her father on speaker and slowly explained what she had done and how miserable she was with her situation. The men were quiet on the other end of the line knowing that there was little they could do without raising suspicion.

  “Shit. Sam, you are unbelievable,” Scott growled.

  “Are you okay, baby? Where you hurt in anyway?” Dr. Quimby asked with concern. He could hear the pain in her voice.

  “No.” She began to cry. “I am miserable. I don’t belong there. Please, don’t make me go back, Daddy. I promise I will be good! I need you. Please come home.”

  Dr. Quimby’s heart ached. Her voice sounded so young and frail. He knew she was putting on a show for Rich, but she was a very convincing little actress. “You know I can’t leave here, baby. We know this is hard for you, but there is an important lesson to be learned. You need to make the best of it.”

  “Daddy, come home to me, please,” Sam cried again into the phone. Her demeanor even began to move Rich’s heart. He hated seeing her so unhappy.

  “Damn it,” Dr. Quimby looked over at Scott desperately. Scott simply shook his head. With a sigh, Dr. Quimby refocused his conversation back to Rich. “Son? This can wait until we get home, don’t you think?”

  “No, sir. I’m sorry, but I don’t think so.” Rich forced himself to be firm. “She’s been giving Mike hell about school, has been sent multiple times to the office, and has been acting up in class to embarrass the teachers. This was the last straw for Mike, and pretty close for me. She managed to leave out some very important things, too.”

  “Really? What?” Scott asked, eyeing his friend with a frown. Sam held her breath, this was going to blow.

  “She was drinking and driving. She
said she only had a small amount, but she’s under age and would be considered under the influence.”

  “Excuse me?” Dr. Quimby growled. “Samantha? Is this true?”

  “Daddy, I swear, I only had a couple of sips. I don’t like beer, you know that. I just did it to fit in. I spilled some on me, which is why the boys could smell it,” Sam answered quickly, knowing this news would be a turning point in gaining any further sympathy. It violated his house rules, and there was no excuse in his book to do so.

  “What the hell were you thinking, Samantha? If a cop had stopped you, he would have smelled it. Diplomatic immunity or not, that is inexcusable,” Scott barked. “And in MY truck too? Mike would have creamed you instantly if it had been his Jag. I can’t believe that you had the audacity to steal MY truck!”

  Chapter 4

  “So now you can understand the severity of our situation, gentlemen. I’m beyond angry right now and Mike went straight to bed, so you know he’s pissed.” Rich watched as his tearful girlfriend moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He handed her a tissue to blow her nose, all the while, shaking his head.

  “Let me talk with my daughter, please. Samantha, take me off speaker, I have a few private words for you.” Dr. Quimby’s tone was hard and filled with disappointment.

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered, holding the phone to her ear. “Daddy, please believe me, I am so sorry.”

  “What I can’t believe is that you were foolish enough to take it this far! Child, what the hell were you thinking? I seriously hope you got some information that will make what you will be facing tomorrow worth it.”

  “Daddy, I am so, so sorry!” Sam repeated, tears flowing down her cheeks.

  “I’m very upset with you right now. Despite the situation, you should not have ever taken things to this point. Be glad I am not home. I am beyond stunned right now.”

  “I know it was stupid, okay? You both need to try to understand that I’ve never fit in before. I was actually approached by people tonight who were interested in me, not as an officer, or who my parents were, but as just Sam. It felt good!” she said, hoping he caught her implication. He did.

  “So you made contact?”

  “Yes, sir. I know you are disappointed, but I could not think of any other way to make myself approachable. It was dumb.”