“I’m,” I start but she squeals interrupting me.
“You still holding on to that stupid idea of a normal life with that boy next door? Oh Gin, for fuck sakes, you were a kid. He is long gone hun, he wouldn't even probably remember your name, let alone what colour eyes you have,” she says seriously. “Or is it because you are upset about Jackson breaking up with you? You said he was a terrible kisser,” she giggles, leading us into an in-depth analysis of the benefits of experimenting with a boy you didn’t really feel too much for, it certainly isn’t love.
“Hartley, hang on,” in the middle of a belly shaking laugh, “Umm look I got to run, I’ll text you later,” I say when I hear a knock at my door. I know it is Aunt Addy, she always soothes the troubled water between Mum and me now. I walk up to my door to unlock it.
“Come in Addy,” I offer and wait for her. She opens the door and walks to me leaving the door open, sweeping me into one of her epic cuddles. Mum will no doubt be hiding in the corridor until she hears my mumbled happiness.
“You are a Bellafonte honey, stop this drama! I am sorry that your mother still sees you as a little tweeny, all she wanted was a few normal summers for you. It’s not right and she knows it, but you are all she has left of him and she misses your dad terribly Ginny,” we both sit up on my bed, our backs against the wall, our legs out straight. Aunt Addy was like a sibling I never had, we shared a lot of giggles and secrets, she understands how demanding and irritating my mother can be. “Having no money is difficult, but so is living with what you have. People have expectations of you and you have family responsibilities that you have no concept of yet. You are moving forward in more ways than possible, it scares her. So, stop being a temperamental little bitch and start living up to our expectations and your potential,” Aunt Addy faux snarls at me through her beautiful, concern filled, hazel eyes, despite the plastic smile on her face. Her French manicured nails, patting my hand, encouragingly.
“She just had to tell me though, is that too hard to do? I am sorry, Aunt Addy,” I say, my words dripping in teenage insincerity. She winks at me, then kisses my head and pulls me up to stand. I walk out of my bedroom, finding my mother standing in the corridor, her hands hiding her mouth.
“Sorry, Mum. Thank you for everything you are doing for me. I just wish you had been honest with me, I mean, St Joseph’s is amazing and I appreciate that you left me at my other school until now so I could split my time with Grandpa. I know what you do for me, Mum. I found my letter of offer a little while ago though, I was hoping you would tell me. I know this is hard, but, I am not a little girl anymore,” I offer as I pull her into an embrace.
I do love my mother, she just rubs me up the wrong way sometimes.
“I will help you pack Verginius. You will be driving down, won't you? Then you can pop back on the weekends and visit,” she says suddenly effervescent again, as she guides me back into my room.
Aunt Addy is already down the back of my wardrobe, pulling out my matching Hermes luggage set, a pile of shoes, and clothes strewn over my bed.
“We can always have the driver deliver what does not fit in here,” Addy says, her eyes ablaze with excitement, matching my mothers, “Sofia, do you remember how much fun we had at St Joseph’s?”
We spend the afternoon packing my room, I half-listen to their happy tales of finishing school, suddenly anxious to be living away from them, excited to be a normal teenager.
Unsurprisingly, I drive up to St Joseph’s by myself. Hartley, decides at the last minute, that she too wants her car, just in case.
I left quickly after a goodbye lunch with Grandma and Grandpa, Aunt Addy, and mum, the girls gossiping at one end of the table, while Grandpa and I crunch numbers at our end, but that is just our strange dynamic.
With a flurry of kisses, gifts, the latest Board report from Grandpa, and a strange rectangular box from Aunt Addy, that I am not allowed to open until I get to St Joseph’s I jump in my car. With one last wave, I drive out of our family estate and start the cruise down the highway, the radio playing softly in the background. I am eager to get out of here but also a little stressed about my solo four-hour drive.
A quick loop through Starbucks drive-through and I am loaded with a grande coffee, water, and a giant cookie for later. Well, later is like five minutes later, but I smile a little at my silly piece of freedom.
The traffic is light really, I expect it to be heavier considering it is a Sunday afternoon. The sky, clearing after an earlier spring storm. After the first hour, my nerves settled and I stopped listening to the radio, started getting excited about my future. I still am not sure about going to Harvard to do Business Administration but it is certainly an expectation, considering the Bellafonte fortune that needs to be managed, unfortunately or fortunately, there aren’t that many heirs except a distant cousin. I had been working alongside Grandpa over numerous summer holidays since we arrived back into their fold.
The good thing about the Bellafonte’s is they know the importance of good people, so our empire is held up, on the shoulders of some amazingly giving and incredibly intelligent people. I am just expected to be one of them. I hoped I had the smarts and insight needed to head this company into the future, thankfully the board all thought I did. Sometimes the only confidence you need is that of other people.
I spent a fair bit of time on my drive to St Joseph’s thinking about my other options, I always have them, Grandma keeps saying it over and over, but then Grandpa will also hit back saying my place was next to him. Really what are my other options? Fashion design, property development, singer-songwriter, no, nope, and no chance.
My thoughts turn to St Joseph’s. I am really excited to be going. It is an exclusive school, most families in the upper echelon use it as an academic finishing school, a gateway to the top tier Universities. St Joseph’s College does provide full academic services from middle school, but most kids only do a maximum of two years. It’s a strange set-up, but one that works.
Eventually though, I think back to my childhood. It’s in the quiet times that I think about Hunter and today is no exception. I physically shake my head to stop the Hunter loop continuing. As always he is a good distraction from the growing ball of nerves at starting a new school away from my family.
I turn the radio on and tune out, focusing on the road.
The afternoon sun is getting lower in the sky, the colours ranging from tangerine to an electric Fuschia, when I finally turn into the private road that will take me to St Joseph’s, I am blown away by the stunning scene in front of me. St Joseph’s College is impressive, to say the least, the main building is a beautiful old graystone that hugs low to the ground, with old dormer windows, large wooden doors, and a grand staircase dominating the facade. The architect certainly pays homage to the splendor and grandeur of the rich. A collection of matching buildings stand in the distance and are taller, while in the middle are a series of newer additions to the campus. The gardens that curl around St Joseph’s are equally breathtaking with sweeping landscaped lawns, large oaks dotting the edges, and smaller cypresses marking the pathways in front of thick garden beds bursting with colour. It is captivating in its complexity and visually very pretty. I have no doubt many art students have tried to capture it and I already know that I will be spending time studying amongst the beauty.
I nearly stomp on my brake, getting lost in the scene before me, but the cars behind me keep me moving forward and I eventually park at the end of the queue of expensive cars waiting. St Joseph's staff are incredibly organized in their welcoming procedures, and the lines of traffic keep moving at a considered, practiced pace. My head is down and I am fiddling with the volume button, trying to put all my things back into my bag when a gentle knock on my window startles me. I jump and turn quickly to see what the noise is.
It was, or should I say, is him.
Nothing could have prepared me for when I saw Hunter again and judging by the shocked look on his face, he is not expecting me eit
her. My hand flattens automatically against the driver’s side window in my greeting, without thought, my scar on display to him. His crystal blue eyes dart to my hand before flashing back to my face. Hunter’s eyes are wide in his shock, his look of bewilderment matching mine no doubt, and his hand squashes up on the glass over mine. I sit up straighter, the weariness I am feeling after the drive, all but disappearing as the biggest smile ever breaks over my face. Hunter’s reaction though is different from what I expect, it stills my reaction instantly, my eyes squint in query. The change in him is scary. He pulls his hand away from my window as if it is suddenly burning hot, the look of amazement is replaced by searing anger that takes my breath away.
I go to get out of my car but he slams his fist on the roof of my car making me jump, “Stay in your car! Didn’t you get the email? Open your window,” he growls loud enough for me to hear over my thumping, racing heart.
My window opens about a quarter of the way before he all but barks at me, “Name?”
“Hunter?” I say softly, looking at him, not understanding what is going on here. He ignores both me and my question, snarling at me instead.
“What is your name?” his blossoming fury, confusing me as much as his words do.
“Hunter, holy shit, is it really you?” I ask him, my hands desperately unlatching my seat belt before they eagerly search for the door handle.
He stops my progress as he leans down into the car, getting his face so close to me. So close to me that I can see how long his eyelashes are, even smell his unique scent. He is exactly like I remember. Summer days, home, and happiness.
“Answer the question. What. Is. Your. Fucking. Name?” The anger that follows his words shock me into silence and stilling my movements.
“Ummm,” I stutter back. My lack of response is at the surprise of seeing him, or maybe it is his displeasure.
He stands back and looks at me with venomous eyes. I catch on slowly that he intends for me to answer his question, play this strange game.
“Verginius Bellafonte,” I finally offer him quietly, my eyes dropping from his nasty glare.
“Wow, that wasn’t so hard now was it,” he replies coldly. “Move your car to the last carpark,” he inspects the clipboard, flaring when he reads something before he scribbles a change on the paper. “You are assigned car space W23, that is your designation until you graduate. Once done, make your way back to the administration, there is a path that indicates which way. For the stupid, oh, sorry, our new students, we have flagged it. Don’t dawdle. Rooms are already assigned and Mrs. Montgomery will have that information along with your keys and security tags. Welcome to St Joseph’s, we hope you enjoy your time with us,” his insincerity and sarcasm seems to peak as he continues his pre-prepared speech. His face hardens again. I have never witnessed in real life, tv or movie, anything like it before. Then he walks away.
What the actual fuck?
Hunter is here at St Joseph’s? And for some reason, in the blink of his eye, a touch of our hands, he has exploded in vexatious resentment. It really did steal away my everything. Even in my astonished state, after all this time, I know that I will never be the same person that I had been just minutes ago. Reacting instinctively, the air in my lungs suddenly disappears, I can’t even swallow as a burning panic sweeps from my feet exploding out the top of my head. My hands quickly fly to my throat, my fingers scratching at my skin as I desperately try to stop the feeling that I am being strangled from the inside out.
The horn of the car behind me blasted a couple of times but even that didn’t stem my panic or help me catch my breath. My heart, at last, caught up with my inability to breathe, it starts beating erratically, black dots appearing in my vision and the sound of the radio and the cars and the people all moving about seems to focus in and out of my head. The intense feelings surprising me, until the gray threatens to rob me completely of my consciousness.
All of a sudden the sound of my door being wrenched open assaults my ears, and then he is back squatting in front of me, the open door at his back. Hunter’s huge hands wrap around my face, angling it so that he fills my sight completely, all I can see is him, all I can hear is his words guiding me back. I am not this weak, flighty person, my out of character response to him only makes me spin further out of control.
“How did I miss seeing your name? You always made me lose my head. This is a one-off Gigi,” he says softly as I finally start to draw air back into my lungs, his breath blowing softly over my face. My hands find his again as he holds my face, my eyes searching for my Hunter.
“I won’t do this Gigi. It’s best if we just say we don’t know each other. I won’t have anything to do with you. Not today, not anymore, not ever. Go park your car and settle in,” his thumb obviously didn’t get the memo of our doomed friendship. Despite his nasty words, his fingers keep gently tracing over my face, offering me comfort that I greedily accept. I don’t think he even knows what he is doing. But just as quickly as he flipped the first time on me I again start to feel his growing irritation and this time it scares me. I need to act quickly so I don’t freak out in front of him again.
I drop my hands from his and tilt my head away, disengaging from his intimate stare as well as his overly personal hold.
“Thank you. It has been a long drive. I am sorry I must have not eaten enough,” I mumble stoically, pulling further back into my seat away from him. My turned head resting back on the headrest. But now he doesn’t seem to like that and instead he follows me into my car, his fingers imploring me to stay.
“Gigi, I have missed you so fucking much,” he whispers before dropping the softest kiss on the edge of my jawline. Just like that, my reserves are depleted. I close my eyes in defeat and within moments his presence, his hands, his words, everything Hunter, is just gone. I can’t even focus on his movement away from me, I just feel it.
Somehow I move, it is without conscious thought, I know that. I follow the brochure that he drops on my lap, the printed directions. I drive slowly to the furthest car park, to the very last parking space in the whole college. I switch my car off and drop my head back onto the headrest, keeping my eyes shut as I listen to other students parking their cars, moving around me. I sit there in my little bubble for a while, until the car park quietens, until my feet are sore with pins and needles. Trying to figure out what the heck just happened, hell knows, I need to. My world just imploded and exploded in one unexpected moment.
I am not surprised that it is early twilight when I finally get my shit back together and open my eyes, my meltdown obviously took a while. Before I climb out of my car I figure I need to get back in control a little, look a little more like a Bellafonte and I search through my oversized tote, finally finding my Chanel spritzer, quickly wiping the shock of this afternoon’s event away. I smooth my flyaway hairs back into a neat and presentable bun and finish with a quick swipe of my nude lipgloss. I check my phone and quickly reply to one of the many texts I missed from Hartley, telling her that I had arrived, before grabbing my suitcases and my handbag from the car. I take my time on my way to the administration building, each step forward helps me feel a little bit more like myself, thankfully.
While the outside and gardens of St Joseph’s are impressive, as soon as I step inside, I am literally at a loss for words. Even after having viewed countless beautiful buildings, the sight leaves me standing at the threshold with my mouth embarrassingly open. The foyer is huge, full of gaping voids, modern architecture combined with bespoke timber accents that meld graciously with gray marble, provide a warm and welcoming area. The space is amazing but what they have done with it is sublime, an impressive collection of original paintings and sculptures are hung and highlighted throughout the expanse. It is incredible, and intimidating as all hell. A soft, polite cough brings my focus back to the here and now.
I offer a quick smile to the lady who interrupts me before allowing my gaze to sweep through St Joseph’s foyer again. This time I noticed the smaller det
ail, finally seeing the state of the art security, the armed guards and the discreetly placed cameras along with the amazing art collection of original’s that dot the lobby.
“Sorry, I am blown away. The photos don’t do it justice,” I say, as I offer my outstretched hand to the equally impressive woman in front of me.
“You must be Verginius Bellafonte. We expected you an hour or so ago, did you have trouble?” she responds in a quiet but professional voice, taking my hand in a polite, well practiced handshake. She nods at the guards and they lock the door behind me, her arm sweeping wide to guide me away from the entrance.
“Just a terrible headache. I hope I haven’t kept you.”
“Don’t be silly. I just like to welcome all our new students home. I was worried more than anything. I am Mrs. Montgomery, Head of Student Services. Welcome, dear. Come on, let’s sign you in, so you can change properly for dinner. You still have an hour and a half, so there is plenty of time,” she turns and I follow her into her office, which looks like it is straight out of a glossy magazine.
On her desk, she has everything I need already. We sit next to each other and she efficiently explains the pertinent information about living at St Joseph’s and being a student here. After some incredibly simple instructions, a quick rundown of the mountain of forms I have to complete and return, she hands me my key and a swipe card.
“At St Joseph’s, we are of the belief that you are all young adults. We have very high standards when it comes to behaviour and study, however Miss Bellafonte, I am sure you are already very attuned to those requirements. Please don’t disappoint us,” she finishes with a condescending pat on my hand, before leading me out of her office. Her beautiful navy blue kitten heels clacking over the marble embellished floor to the wall of lift’s that are situated at the back of the lobby. “I have scheduled an early appointment for us to work through the procedures, I figured due to your late arrival we should reschedule. In the meantime, I will take you up to your room, your cases have already been taken up,” she says over her shoulder, her hands flying over her tablet. My phone pings with an alert just a second later.
You Promised Me Page 2
