“Yes. Friday you can do whatever you like during the day. I have to see my parents.” Straight to the point. I’m only giving him the information he needs. Nothing more.
“Friday night?” he asks.
“I was thinking we could lay low, maybe grab a bite to eat.”
“The reunion is Saturday, then?”
“Yes. It’s a masquerade ball. You’ll need a tux and a mask. If you want me to take care of that for you, I can. I have to order my mask still, and I can reserve a tux here in town if you like.” I’m rambling on, almost repeating myself. My nerves are on edge, and its showing. I’m normally more confident than this. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Sure. That would be great,” he replies. He looks as if he’s thinking something over, but shakes it away quickly. “So, Saturday night we’ll go to the reunion. Where is it?”
“It’s at the hotel we’re staying at. That’s why I thought we would lay low on Friday night. There’s no one I want to see that I won’t see on Saturday. Plus, I would hate for us to get our story twisted and blow this whole thing,” I admit on one long breath.
“What’s our story?”
“Before we get into that,” I say, attempting to deflect his question, “why don’t we talk money–what did you decide?”
“Well, with travel, I was thinking five thousand for the entire weekend.”
“That’s all?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“That’s a lot of money. If you want to pay me more, I’ll gladly take it. That’s up to you. How much were you planning on paying me?”
Do I tell him the truth, or do I lie? Our relationship is going to be one big lie, so I might as well sprinkle in a few truths. Maybe it’ll make me feel better about this.
“Honestly, I was thinking you would want the entire seven thousand, and I was prepared to pay that. Why don’t we meet in the middle?”
“Six thousand it is, then,” he replies quickly.
“Sounds good.”
“Now, on to other things,” he says as if money isn’t what he came here to talk about.
“Okay… what more do we need to cover?” Please don’t ask me anything personal. The way he’s looking at me, those sexy chocolate-brown eyes, makes me want to tell him my darkest secrets. And maybe I will before this is all over. Right now, I just want this meeting to be over before things get that far. I’m not ready.
“Well, I’d like to know why you’re hiring me.” He cringes after the words leave his mouth. It’s as if he didn’t mean to say them.
“Ireland suggested it,” I reply, giving him the best answer I can right now.
“So I heard. Why would she suggest you hire an escort service?” he asks, leaning towards me and lowering his voice so the people at the table next to us don’t hear him.
“Because she can’t accompany me to the reunion, and she doesn’t want me to go alone.”
Truth.
“Boyfriend?”
“No.”
Truth.
“Why?”
“I’m too busy. Is this going to be a game of twenty questions?”
Lie. Well, it couldn’t last forever.
“Can it be?” he asks, a grin quickly spreading across his face. Damn him. He makes me want to reach out and run the pad of my thumb over his unshaven jaw.
“I’ll give you five questions, and you’ve used two already.”
He thinks about it for a moment before he blurts out, “Lesbian?”
“No. I’m not involved with anyone because I’m busy. Stop asking the same question over and over,” I demand, becoming defensive for no reason.
“Sorry.” His apology is heartfelt to a point. There’s something about his tone that I’m trying to figure out.
“You have two more questions. Then I get to ask mine.” I should start thinking about questions if I’m going to ask them. What do I want to know about him?
“Okay. So… single and successful. Why do you need me for the reunion?”
“That’s counts as two,” I say, dramatically.
“Only if you answer it.”
How much do I want to tell him? Nothing. I don’t want to relive any of it and by telling him about it, I’ll be unable to avoid it. I have to give him something, though. A nibble. The tiniest bit of information so he drops it.
“Fine. When I was in high school, there was this group of popular kids that liked to pick on me. They bullied me until I broke down one day in front of them. I want to skip my reunion all together, but Ireland suggested that I go back and rub my success in their face. It seemed like a good plan until she couldn’t come with me.”
Perfect. Just enough to satisfy him hopefully.
“So, I get to be your date instead.”
“Yes. And you’re not just my date. You’re my fiancé for the weekend,” I correct him. Maybe he didn’t read the entire contract like I did.
“Moving up in the world,” he sings.
“Ha ha. Seriously, though, they were horrible. All I want is to prove to them that they didn’t destroy me completely. In fact, the person I am today is because they were so horrible to me. I’ve changed almost everything about me on the outside to match who I am on the inside. They never cared about who I really was. They only judged me by my appearance and social standing.” The words are out of my mouth before I can censor myself. I’m too comfortable around him. We’ve just met. I shouldn’t be this open with him.
Saying it out loud, realizing how pathetic I sound, makes it real again. I can hear them taunting me. I can feel the tears running down my cheeks as I attempted to hide my face and run away. The final straw was when Tiffanie snatched my favorite novel out of my hands and began ripping the pages out one by one, throwing them in my face.
“Loser! Nerd! Geek! Who doesn’t have any friends? Jane, that’s who!”
Her words have haunted me for years. I’ve been able to focus on other things, better things, more important things since starting college, but I’ll never forget that day. The look on her face was vicious as if it was her life’s mission to ruin me. Well, she succeeded for a while. I avoided her at all costs, spending most of my life alone and away from people. I hid when I wasn’t in class, and even when I was, I attempted to be invisible.
College was my escape from them, from her. I chose a place as far away as I could. At first, I attempted to blend into the background as I always had. Then I realized that even though she was a thousand miles away, she was still controlling my life. I was done with all that. I was done being invisible. I wanted to stand out, to be noticed and recognized.
That’s where Ireland came in. She had been through a similar situation, though not as intense as mine. She reinvented herself before college and knew exactly how to help me. Over the last few months of my freshman year, we found ways to change who I was so I could be who I wanted to be. My hair was cut and colored, my wardrobe swapped out for different styles. Although my focus was still on school, I began to immerse myself in other aspects of college life. I went to some parties, joined a few study groups. I even contemplated being part of a sorority for a brief moment.
Maybe I chose the wrong set of girls, but they all reminded me of Tiffanie. The one person I was trying to escape.
The beginning of my sophomore year was the best of my life. People wanted to talk to me. Not just guys, the girls, too. People asked my opinion. I felt special. I felt smart. All my life I had been treated differently because I was smart, looked at differently, but not like this. The way people looked at me now was how I had always dreamed. Instead of shunning me, they wanted to learn from me. They wanted my help. They looked up to me.
To say I was shocked was an understatement.
Ireland was even impressed. Her transformation made her popular with the boys. Mine made me popular with everyone.
“That’s horrible,” Hunter says, bringing me back to the present.
“It was. It’s the past now, but it’s something I still wish had never happen
ed,” I reply, sitting up a little straighter in an attempt to hide the fact it still has an impact on me.
“Last question,” he replies, changing the subject. “What’s our story?”
I laugh, assuming the question would be more personal. He’s doing a great job of putting me at ease. For the first time since looking over the application, I’m certain I’ve made the right decision. In my heart of hearts, I’m grateful for Ireland’s push and Paul’s matchmaking skills. Hunter is the perfect escort for this job.
Light hearted. Easy to talk to. It’s a bonus that he’s also incredibly attractive.
Quickly breezing through our story, I give Hunter the run down. We’ve been engaged for two years, but we’ve been together for six. We met in college. Our wedding is next summer, June 25th to be exact. We both love to ski and golf.
“What do I do for a living?” he asks.
Good question. I hadn’t even thought about that. I can’t exactly tell them he’s an escort.
“Did you go to college?”
As soon as the question passes my lips, I immediately regret it. The last thing I want to do is offend him. Just because he’s doing this now doesn’t mean he isn’t educated.
“I have my degree in business-marketing and advertising.”
“That sounds interesting. Can I ask why you’re doing this?” I’m not sure why I asked. It’s not my business why he made a career change. I have a feeling it wasn’t his decision, though.
“That’s a story for another day. Why don’t we tell people I work for an ad agency if they ask? That way, I’ll be comfortable if they want to talk business that way.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“So, can I call you Reese’s Pieces?” he asks, a sly smile on his face. He’s obviously proud of himself right now.
“Um, no.” The words leave my mouth quickly. He won’t understand why, and he doesn’t need to, as long as he never calls me that.
“What do I call you then?”
Shit! We didn’t cover this. Do I tell him now, or do I wait? He needs to get used to my real name or he’ll slip up. God, I don’t want to be that girl again, even if I’m a better person because of what she went through. Even being called by that name sends a shiver up my spine, bringing back memories I attempted to bury a long time ago. I don’t have a choice, though.
“Call me Jane, please,” I practically whisper.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because that was my name until a few years ago,” I explain as I lower my head and focus on my forgotten coffee. “I changed it just before I opened Kennedy Real Estate. A new name for a new adventure in life.”
Finally finding the courage to look up at him, he sits up a little straighter and shifts in his seat. Looking down at his watch, I see the moment he plans his escape. Something’s changed. The air feels heavier suddenly. What did I say?
“I forgot about an appointment I have. I’m going to be late if I don’t leave now. We’re supposed to talk more on Sunday. Why don’t you text me and let me know when and where?”
“Sure,” I say, dragging out the word to let him know I’m confused by his abrupt change in demeanor. It doesn’t seem to faze him as he jumps out of his chair and races toward the door. I’m surprised he pauses long enough to look back at me and wave.
Giving him a few minutes to escape, I finally stand and leave myself, waving at Gus as I walk by. Hunter’s reaction to my confession is nagging at me. Did he go through something similar? I can’t imagine he was once bullied. I could be wrong. Looking at me, you would never guess. I’m not that person anymore. I exude confidence in everything I do because I do it well. No one is allowed to tear me down, I don’t stand for it.
A girl in college tried once. She thought I was hitting on her boyfriend. The fact was, I was helping him. He was an idiot and didn’t understand the assignment. Her assumption led to her making an ass of herself publicly. She screamed and screamed, not giving me or her boyfriend a chance to explain. When she was finally out of breath, her boyfriend whispered something in her ear and she ran away in tears.
He broke up with her.
In front of everyone.
For the way she acted.
I wasn’t surprised. It happened to Tiffanie, too. Girls like them, the one’s who feel superior to others because they’re beautiful or popular, never think about the consequences of their actions. I wasn’t there when Tiffanie’s boyfriend broke up with her at a pep rally, but the rest of the school was. People whispered about it the remainder of our senior year.
There was a brief fleeting moment I felt bad for her. Then I remembered all the horrible things she has done to me. Karma. That had to be it. Hopefully, she’s grown up since then. Matured. Realized that we should celebrate the differences among us rather than tear each other down.
Somehow, I doubt it.
I’ll find out next weekend. Until then, I’ll be left wondering what I’m walking back into. She’s the chair of the reunion. She was our class president. She was the homecoming queen. She was the most popular girl in our class, until that moment at the pep rally. That moment knocked her down a notch or two.
For a stupid reason.
But, none the less, it did. She felt the fall. I felt her fall. I enjoyed it until I realized it made me no better than her. I didn’t want to be like Tiffanie, not even a little. I wanted to be me, a better version at the time, but still me. So I became who I wanted to be. When the time comes, I won’t apologize for who I used to be or who I’ve become.
I am who I am today because of who I was back then. Because of how I was treated. Because of the awful things that were said to and about me. I have Tiffanie to thank for that mainly, but those words will never cross my lips.
Chapter Six
Hunter
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
This is not happening.
How did I not realize?
As I sit here and stare at her across the table, memories of those awful moments in the halls come rushing back to me. To hear it from her view makes everything ten times worse. I can’t do this. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair to her.
Making a lame excuse about a forgotten appointment, I bolt from the table as casually as I could. As I approach the exit, I turn and look at her one last time, waving before I leave. It’ll be the last time I see her, but she doesn’t know that. Sure, I told her to text me about Sunday. That’s because I’m a chicken shit and couldn’t let her down in person.
It seems I haven’t grown up as much as I thought. I was a chicken shit back then too.
Rushing across town, straight to the DUCS office, I try calling Paul three times before I screech to a stop in the parking lot, my tires skidding across the pavement.
“I can’t do it,” I say as I barge in Paul’s office, unaware that someone else is with him. Looking between him and the woman sitting in his lap, I back away slowly, closing the door behind me.
Pacing up and down the hall, I’m forced to wait. Unable to stand it any longer, I lean back against the wall opposite his door and close my eyes. All I see is a fractured version of Reese, attempting not to cry as Tiffanie rips pages from a book and throws them at her. I should have stopped her right then, but I froze. It was my breaking point, the moment I knew I couldn’t be with her any longer.
Grabbing me by the arm, Tiffanie led me into the pep rally while Reese collected the torn pages from the ground at her feet. The vision of her holding her head high as her book was ripped to shreds at the hands of her bully was all I could see.
As we sat down in the bleachers, I whispered to Tiffanie that it was over. She was oblivious to the fact that I was even talking to her. Following her line of sight, she was staring out the doors, pointing at Reese, telling the girls behind us what had happened. They both laughed, getting the attention of a few other people.
All I could do was watch it unfold. Reese wasn’t even in the room, and Tiffanie was being a bitch to her. While t
hey pointed and dissed her, I watched as she picked up the last page of her book and dumped it in the trash, disappearing from view. Waiting a few beats for her to walk in the gym, I tried to get Tiffanie's attention again, but she ignored me.
“Hey!” I screamed.
Turning toward me, she raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. I’d seen that look before. She was challenging me. Her face told me what she was thinking without her having to speak a word.
“Are you really talking to me like that?” it said.
“I’m done,” I stated plainly as I stood. The students behind us had quieted and were all intently listening to what I had to say.
“Excuse me?” she replied, irritation radiating off of her in waves.
“You heard me. I’m done. We’re done.”
“Whatever. Bye, Tyler,” she replied, turning back around, effectively dismissing me.
“You’re a real bitch, you know that? You treat people like shit, talk about them behind their backs, and then are nice to them to their face, claiming you’re their friend.” Pointing to the girl right behind her, I said, “She was complaining about you last night. Apparently, you’re too clingy. And you,” I continued, pointing to the girl next to her, “She doesn’t like how you dress.”
“That’s enough, Tyler. Go away now. You’re embarrassing yourself,” Tiffanie hollered without turning around to look at me.
“Am I? Or am I embarrassing you?”
“Just go!” she screamed, whipping around finally so I can see the anger in her eyes. Her scream caused even more people to take notice of the commotion.
“I’m done taking orders from you. No one cares that you’re popular. I’m sure all these people talk shit about you too, about the way you treat them. You’re a bully, Tiffanie. Plain and simple.”
“Oh my god. This is about that girl, isn’t it?” she laughed.
“No, this is about you. You treat her worse than anyone else because you think you can, because she doesn’t stand up to you. Well, guess what? You go near her again, and you’ll have to deal with me. I’m done watching you bully people.”
Sticks & Stones Page 4