by D. V. EEDEN
When I arrive home, the Bentley pulls onto the gravel road toward my father’s house and a black Ferrari comes into view.
Zach is here.
As Steve pulls to a stop I don’t wait for him to open my door, and I get out of the car as quickly as I can. I just want to get this outfit off of me and burn it. The second I stand my skirt rides up, making me feel uncomfortable. I try and pull it down by the hem, struggling to balance my heels in the gravel, and a familiar laugh sounds out from behind me. I turn around to find Zach leaning his shoulder against the wooden door frame of the door, ankles crossed, and he’s dressed in a fine navy-blue suit. Damn it, my ovaries can’t take this.
I frown. “What’s so funny?” I bark, trying to stand straight and walk over to him but this skirt is very restricting, my normal strides are reduced to little ones, making it take longer to get anywhere. Zach’s hand flies up to his mouth, hiding the wide grin behind it, still chuckling as I maneuver towards him. I’m biting the inside of my cheek, trying not to snap at Steve and Zach. Poor Steve is also holding in a laugh, his face turning red from trying not to burst.
“Okay, come on, let it all out,” I gesture with my hand over my body, giving them both permission and to my regret they both burst out laughing. Clearly, this posh lady outfit doesn’t suit me. I look like an old lady dressed like this. I purse my lips, my eyes wide and staring at both of them. I finally make it to the bottom of the steps, realizing I have nothing to balance myself against so that I’m able to get up the five marble steps.
Zach noticing my struggle, comes to join me down below. He tangles our arms together so that he can escort me to the top. Annoyingly, it’s only five steps, but this skirt is so tight I can’t lift my leg up at a ninety-degree angle. Maybe only thirty degrees, and these steps are wider and taller than normal.
“I must say, Ade…,” Zach starts but the laughter takes over again, unable to form the words from his mouth. I wonder why he’s here at my father’s house, dressed in a sexy suit.
I sigh, rolling my eyes. “What are you doing here?”
Zach escorts me to the kitchen, where I kick of my shoes and head towards the fridge to pour myself an orange juice. I need an OJ and a coffee. As I’m taking sips of the sweet juice, I turn the kettle on, turning my gaze to Zach’s as I point to the kettle.
“Coffee please, doll,” he winks.
I empty my glass in a few seconds, waiting for the sugar to hit my veins like a drug addict. “So, are you going to answer my question? What are you doing here?” I fold my arms across my chest, the arms of the blazer also restricting that movement.
Fucking thing, who wears this shit on purpose?
Raising my eyebrow to Zach, he doesn’t seem too concerned and takes a seat on one of the high stools by the breakfast bar. He looks so handsome in a kitchen. I bet he can cook. The image of him in an apron, chopping vegetables … I trail off in my mind, forgetting I was still staring at him. Turning around, I get two large cups out of the cabinet and start to make the drinks. Just as I’m about to ask how he takes it; he beats me to it.
“White, no sugar. I’m sweet enough.”
Barking out a laugh, I finish making the drinks and head over to pass it to him.
“These are exceptionally large cups,” he says, taking the handle and lifting the mug up to inspect.
“Yeah I needed a big mug, because afternoon tea party drinks are so small you end up thirstier than before,” I reply. I put my mug down, leaning my torso against the counter as I look over to Zach.
“I had to come drop some documents off for your father. He’s away on business with my father and I forgot to bring them earlier,” he finally admits.
I wonder how many days my father is away for. “When are they back?” I mumble, taking a sip of my beautiful roasted bean coffee.
Zach puts his down on the counter, his hand flying up to his face, then he does the one move that makes my knickers melt away. His thumb brushes the corner of his lip, those sultry eyes boring into me before he licks those luscious lips. Shifting on my feet, I balance myself on my other foot, trying to get rid of the butterflies in my belly that want to travel down to my sweet core.
Down girl.
Zach bites his lower lip slowly as he tilts his head to the side. “You know, I normally hate posh girls that dress like that, but my god, you are turning me on,” he purrs, the sapphire of his eyes half-lidded as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand.
I straighten my back, turning around to put our empty mugs in the dishwasher.
“I do love a domestic woman too,” he teases, and I can’t help but laugh.
“So, you loved your maid?” I joke, and he barks out a laugh, his head falling back. The sound is like a perfect melody and it sends a pang to my gut. I love it when Zach laughs. It’s so infectious. He stands from the stool, straightening the suit jacket before repositioning the silver Rolex on his wrist.
“I have to go princess, but I’m sure you will see me during the break.”
He starts to exit the kitchen while I stay where I am, but he stops and turns on his heel. “Oh, and to answer your question, you have freedom of three days before father dearest returns,” he winks whilst walking backwards. Soon after, I hear the soft click of the door and the roar of the Ferrari as he leaves.
This is going to be a great Christmas. Not.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Once the Christmas break is over, it’s actually a relief to be back at the academy. I hardly saw my father the whole holiday and we only sat down for one meal together, which was our turkey stuffed Christmas dinner. Other than that, he wasn’t around. I received lavish gifts from him, including jewelry, all real diamonds, the best clothes from around the world and surprisingly he turned one of the spare rooms into a full dance studio, which was the real winner. I was stunned when he showed it to me. He thinks dancing is a waste of time, but he likes the fact I’m keeping fit.
Unfortunately, I didn’t even have the pleasure of Zach around since our last encounter, which made me feel… alone. The one friend, or whatever he is, the only one who is allowed round, didn’t. Miles and the girls texted me a Happy Christmas, which was about the only thing that put a smile on my face.
Since being back at the Academy I’ve kept myself busy with my assignments and projects, as there’s only a few months left of the college year and everything is due soon.
“Here are our gifts,” Blaire says, placing boxes on my bed from her and Maisie. We didn’t get to do our own little Christmas before the break, so we’re doing it now on a Wednesday afternoon in January. Why not?
I hand them their gifts, which I managed to buy from my monthly allowance from father and my job. I open the first box to find a necklace with three hoops, encrusted in diamonds but on the back, it has our names engraved.
The strings on my heart tug, as this is possibly the best present I have ever received. I mean, back home in South Africa I got cute gifts, but my friends weren’t rich, so we didn’t really buy gifts for each other, whereas now, we trade fucking diamonds for gifts apparently.
What a change of lifestyle.
Blaire and Maisie open their boxes and the way their faces light up does something to me, and I giggle. I literally love these two with all my heart and having them as best friends is amazing. I would die if I didn’t have them here with me at the academy. It looks like we had the same idea for presents but in my case, I got us all matching best friend bracelets. The platinum plated bracelets each have a charm of our initials and also a gem which are our birthstones, followed by a diamond.
Blaire squeals, “Oh my goodness,” she drags out, putting on the bracelet. We all hug, tears filling our eyes as we say our thanks. I check the time and notice it’s already after three in the afternoon and I’m late for meeting Hugo in the library.
Shit, he will kill me. Literally stab me.
Grabbing my bag, I scurry towards the door, turning my head to say goodbye to the girls. “I gotta go. Tuto
ring session with the devil himself,” I laugh. I have two minutes to make it…
“You’re five minutes late Africa,” he hisses when I arrive, not bothering to draw his eyes to me as I slide into my chair. It’s five minutes, for god’s sake.
“I do apologize Hugo. I didn’t realize the time,” I snap, pulling out my laptop from my satchel. I cannot be bothered to write everything down to just re type it up, so why not do it all in one go, instead of doing things twice?
Obtaining good grades until the end of the year is an absolute must, my father warned me at Christmas and if I don’t, I don’t want to know the consequences. If he just hit me because I changed my hair colour, I dread to think what he will do if I slack off at the academy. Smiling, I turn on my laptop and turn to look at Hugo.
“Did you have a nice Christmas break?” I ask, trying to start a conversation, but I feel as though I’m poking the beast. We haven’t ever had a normal conversation and as one of my new year’s resolutions, I want to make the effort in getting to know the Royals and be nice. I have kind of forgiven them for what they have done. I mean, in a way, but it’s not forgotten. Start this year off with no grudges – how hard can it be?
Hugo lifts his head, his upper lip curled as if my question has aggravated him.
“Are you being fucking serious?” he grits.
Okay, so I poked the bear and he didn’t like it.
I hold out my hands in surrender, my lips in a thin line. “Goodness, I am so sorry for asking,” I stammer. He doesn’t say anything else, but he just puts his head down and continues writing notes. Maybe he wasn’t the best one to start my resolution with. I’ve put last year’s antics to the back of my mind, locking it in the cage where my bad memories are and hiding the key, so I don’t unlock it willingly. I should throw away the key really.
Once my laptop is up and running, I start typing, my leg bouncing up and down without realizing and I notice that Hugo keeps looking at me with an aggravating stare. I try to stop bouncing my leg, but for some reason I’m nervous and the fact that Hugo is so close to me is unnerving.
The way you just bit your lip…
The sentence keeps playing in my mind like a broken record. Does he think about this all the time? Is he observing me now?
So many questions.
I want to be intrusive and ask him about the purple haired girl from the party, and ask if she’s his girlfriend, but I feel as though that would put the icing on the cake of him hating me. So, I hold back my questions, locking them in the cage.
My cage is going to burst soon and then I’m going to break down… I can feel it.
When the hour is up, Hugo stands up abruptly, his belongings already packed. He must be in a hurry. He walks past me, leaving me on my own but as soon as I think I’m free, I wince in pain, my hair being pulled back with force.
“Just because it was Christmas and it’s a new year doesn’t mean I like you now. I still fucking hate you and you are due your punishment for crashing the club. So be warned Africa…” he says, hissing like a snake. He’s threatening, no, promising me punishment and when Hugo says something, he means it.
My eyes are shut from the pain Hugo is inducing, the long fingers tangled in my brown hair. He lets me go abruptly, storming off out the library, and it takes a moment for me to catch my breath.
Am I scared? No. I am fucking terrified. But at the same time, my body calls to him and just the touch of his fingers on my scalp send my nerves into a frenzy. He reminds me of the song from Avenged Sevenfold – Scream.
He makes me want to scream in a good way and in a bad way.
Samantha texts me to let me know that I can audition to dance whenever I want, and I couldn’t be more excited. The back of my mind is telling me how risky it is, but then the little devil on my shoulder tells me, ‘you’re wearing a wig and a mask Ade, no one will know…’ I instantly agree with the little devil.
Since the Christmas break, I have put the weight back on my body, making me look like a human being rather than a walking corpse. My ass and boobs are so big I can’t stop touching them. I’m just surprised they’re still there.
I haven’t spent any time with Miles, in fact he hasn’t really been around the academy, so we still haven’t traded our presents yet. Well, I got him a present, so I’m assuming he got me one too. Wishful thinking?
Lounging on the golden sand of Stonewall beach in my wetsuit, I admire the view of the orange-hued sunset. The ocean is crystal clear, you can see the seabed in the shallows, the little fishes and the seaweed floating. It’s breathtaking. Only a few people have turned up at the beach today to surf, the winter cold putting them off, but it doesn’t me.
I like feeling the slight crisp cold nipping my skin.
The bonfire has just been lit, the aroma of burnt wood in the air, the orange and golden flames dancing on the faces that surround it. My hands dig into the golden sand, letting it fall between my fingers, the tiny granules tickling my soft skin.
“Africaaa!” someone hollers, breaking the trance I was in, enjoying the silence and alone time. A body plonks itself next to mine in the sand, settling their board down beside them.
I tilt my head, side eyeing Charles as he admires the view ahead of us. The sun is just setting, and you can only see half of the sun. The other half reflects off of the water, the slight ripples changing its shape.
“What do you want?” I utter, my knees bent to my chest. I cross my arms around them, creating a barrier. I haven’t spoken to Charles since his birthday party, after he fed me some drugs and then kissed me. I still don’t know how to feel about that situation.
Anyone would say he was a bad influence, to which I agree but it was my choice. If I said no, he wouldn’t have forced it upon me. I know he said he dared me but I’m sure he isn’t that cruel. I was in a rebellious mood, so I thought, why the fuck not.
“Well, I was surfing just like you, and thought I’d come say hi,” he shrugs. “I haven’t seen you since my epic party, and our little, um… incident,” he snorts.
My eyes narrow and my upper lip curls. I don’t know exactly how to take that. Does he just not want to admit it happened, or is it regret in his voice? Because he hides it well.
Clearing my throat, I fix my gaze on the ocean. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter. It was a mistake anyway,” I state, thinking that I might as well say it before he does.
Charles turns his head to look at me, the water dripping from his perfect shaggy hair, his face scrunched in a frown. The orange of the sun gleams from his perfect brown eyes, making them look more caramel. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right,” he stutters, and I don’t know if it’s me, but he sounded slightly disappointed. He clears his throat, dipping his chin so he’s looking at the sand between his feet.
I swallow the lump in my throat, unsure of what to say, but I’m unsure as to why he’s even here. He hates me, and he made that perfectly clear before. My chest tightens, remembering the words that left his crimson lips, I wouldn’t go near her gross fucking body. Biting the inside of my cheek, my fingers trail the granules, feeling the cold shards slip through my fingers. I better leave, before I disgust him further.
Standing to leave, I rub the sand off my ass with the palms of my hands and then pick up my board, Charles watching my every move. I don’t even a mutter goodbye, I just walk off. I take my board back to the beach hut, and another guy working today, instead of Zach, takes it from my hands, placing it on the shelves behind him. I open the locker where all my belongings are, picking out my towel and bag before heading back to the academy. I slip on my yoga pants, a hoodie, and my trainers in the car park. I still haven’t contacted an Uber to pick me up, but I didn’t want to leave just yet. Charles just drove me away.
Looking around the area, I scan to see what else is around and I spot a cute little ice cream parlor. I could do with an ice cream sundae. I haven’t had one of them in a while either, so I may as well spoil myself. Walking into the 1950’s style parlor, I find an
empty booth along the glass wall looking out to the ocean and take a seat. The waitress is so attentive, already taking my drinks order. I order myself a coffee and decide to go for a banana split. My belly is rumbling already.
It doesn’t take long for my drink and dessert to arrive, so I dig in straight away. As I eat the ice cream, I scroll through my social media, looking at all the pictures my old friends have put on, showing off their summer holidays. Damn, I wish I were back home enjoying the sunshine, the heat on my skin. I definitely relish the sunshine. I’m starting to lose my natural tan.
A ping rings on my phone, a notification showing that I have been tagged in something on Instagram, on the Darlington Academy gossip page. It’s a picture of me, mouth wide open as I enjoy my banana split. Already the comments are flooding in, calling me a fat bitch, a pig, and many more.
What fucking prick decided to ruin my start of the year?
I look around outside, to see if I recognize any familiar faces, but I don’t. The only person who comes to mind is Charles as he was the only person I have really seen. If it’s him, I swear I’m going to kill him.
The comments do not die down, they keep coming in so fast I can’t believe it. A few comments saying that I should kill myself, slit my wrists… and the worst one says that I should have drowned. They are talking about the incident where Blake pushed me under water.
The colour from my face vanishes, my body temperature rising so high, beads of sweat form on my forehead, drip onto the table in front of me. My chest tightens as the comments keep rolling in, but I can’t stop looking at them, my eyes are glued to the screen of my phone. Tears roll down my face, turning my cheeks pink, and I try to wipe them away, but they keep on coming.
I decide not to head back to the academy, feeling too anxious. So, I leave the ice cream parlor after I’ve paid my bill and find the closest pub so that I can drink my sorrows away. I end up going back to that pub where we watched the band, having only just learned that it’s called the Queens Head. Fitting.