by Lannah Smith
He shrugged. "You never appreciated anything about me, Mother. So?"
She didn't look like she would reply when she turned her head, picked up her cup and took a sip of her coffee.
But then she murmured over the rim, "It was the new secretary."
"Ah." This time, it was his eyes that narrowed. "And I guess you've already taken care of the matter?"
"Of course."
He could already imagine what she did to the woman. Kicked out of the company without any recommendations, possibly ruined her chances for any decent future employment, her life destroyed. And his mother would never lose a good night's sleep over it.
"Did you never think that maybe it was Father's fault?" he asked her quietly.
Her gaze cut to him and her eyes were ice cold. "Shouldn't you be in school right now, son?"
So it was the end of the conversation.
He clenched his jaw as he stared at his mother.
Chilling, powerful and beautiful.
Those were the words he'd describe her.
When he was younger he used to call her a witch behind her back. She was his father's business partner before she became his wife so she treated everything like a business transaction. And that included how to raise him. He couldn't do anything about it when he was a child, couldn't do anything about her strict ways. Maybe he should have counted the many punishments he received from both his mother and father last night so he could fall asleep. The list was long enough.
"Take this," his mother said, lifting a small, gold envelope. She didn't even look hurt at the prospect of her husband betraying her over and over again.
He arched a brow but didn't move. "What's that?"
"You'll find out when you read it."
With a heavy sigh, he snatched the envelope from her hand and turned to go back to his bedroom. His appetite had disappeared while conversing with his mother.
"When will you forgive me, son?"
Her soft voice, so unlikely of her, came to him.
He stilled and his hands curled into fists. He threw her a look over his shoulder and muttered a single word that made his mother's features hardened.
"Never."
And with that, he went to his bedroom, slamming the door closed.
*baka - idiot/stupid
*Otousan - Japanese for father
*Okaasan - Japanese for mother
*Baka nano? - Are you stupid?
Chapter 16
John sat staring at the two idiots in the desks in front of him and continued to watch as Skull leaned into Rohan to ask something he couldn't understand in the book he was reading.
Leon sat next to him. When he entered the room not a minute ago, his best friend had been lazily observing Rohan and Skull. Now Leon was staring at him. His expression was blank but John knew he was waiting.
He was waiting for John to start his shit.
Rohan was scanning the paper he was holding and muttering something low to Skull, who was jotting down whatever he was saying on a sheet of paper. Leon glanced at them when Skull groaned and scratched his head, still stuck in confusion. Rohan tapped his paper with his pencil and continued to mutter at him. They didn't even noticed he was in the room with them.
John grinned and Leon's eyes returned to him.
Seeing the expression on his face, knowing what he was about to do, his best friend frowned at him. But he didn't say anything so John took it as his cue to start dissing the two morons in front of him.
"Well, well, well," John began, tongue in cheek. "Look who we have here. The losers."
Both their heads jerked up.
Then they turned slowly, wearing identical scowls on their faces, and John knew this was going to be fun.
"Can I punch him?" Skull muttered.
"Please," Rohan muttered back. "Do it."
Leon exhaled and took out his phone. Unlike the two, he wasn't bothering to study and was clearly keeping himself out of this.
"You want to hang out later, Leon?" John asked. "I recently got into some money..."
He jumped out of the chair when Skull threw a punch his way. The desk skidded a few inches away when Skull lost his balance and tumbled into it and John laughed.
"You're a fucking sore loser," he remarked.
Skull growled as he straightened. "I hate losing."
Rohan shot a furtive glance at Leon but it looked like he was too engrossed with his phone.
What? Did he think Leon would hit the roof over this?
Anyone with eyes could see that his best friend was in another uncharacteristically good mood right now. He was probably exchanging texts with Sophia by the look of the smirk on his face. He liked teasing his girlfriend and though John was initially concerned it might make Sophia leave him, he was sure Leon wouldn't allow that to happen after what they've been through.
"Who told you to side with the kid?" John asked as Skull took his seat again.
"I was stupid, so sue me."
He also returned to his seat, grinning. "But you're always stupid."
"I was so sure he'd break up with her."
"I'm starting to wonder how your brain works."
"Are you really okay with this, Leon?" Rohan asked loudly.
"I already kicked his ass," Leon intoned without looking up from his phone.
"Punched my face to be exact," John quipped on a dying smile.
Leon's eyes sliced to him. "That was for a different reason. On second thought, maybe I should really kick your ass."
"Hey, I'm not the one who suggested the bet."
"You didn't stop it," Skull interjected.
"I'm immature, so sue me." John chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't make bets next time if you're going to be a dick about losing, Christopher."
This time, Skull's fist didn't miss. John leaned away from him, rubbing his upper arm vigorously.
"You're a jerk," he mumbled.
Skull grinned widely. "So sue me."
Asshole.
Ignoring the sullen glare John aimed at him, Skull turned to Rohan. "So Rohan, what happened to that chick you went home with last night?"
"You're supposed to be asking me math questions, Skull," Rohan replied wryly.
"It'll still be math. Like what the angle her legs were when you—"
The teacher chose that moment to walk in and Skull tapered off. John moved his eyes to Ethan for barely long enough to take him in before they came back to Skull. He barked out a laugh when he saw the numbskull hastily gathering his stuff.
Ethan heard the noise while he was putting his things on his table. He lifted his eyes to their direction and his head jerked back in surprise when he saw Rohan and Skull in the room.
He frowned. "What are you two doing here?"
"Leaving," Skull immediately replied, shooting up from his seat.
Rohan tipped his head to one side and looked at the teacher. He didn't look at all panicked to get caught in the special building.
"Do you fail students?" he asked after a moment.
Ethan's brows knitted together in confusion. "Is this a trick question?"
Rohan shrugged his shoulders. Skull, on the other hand, was waving at Rohan from the doorway to get out of the room. John kept on snickering on his seat. Ethan was the only teacher Skull was wary of because of one incident that involved a pissing contest and a shoulder throw.
Luckily for Ethan, it happened out of school. Luckily for Skull, he ended in the soft grass and not on the pile of shit on the road.
"I haven't a failed a student," Ethan answered slowly. His gaze went to John and they hardened. "Yet."
A broad grin slipped across John's face.
Was he threatening him again?
"I'm with you on this one, Ethan." Rohan stood up and patted the teacher once on the shoulder as he passed. "Fail him," he said over his shoulder.
Ethan bristled visibly. "It's not Ethan. It's sir."
"Whatever, Ethan. See you later, guys."
Exasperated, Etha
n watched the two of them disappear from the doorway.
"Birds of the same feather do flock together," Ethan grumbled.
John felt his lips spread into a wide grin.
Here was another person he could piss off today.
And it wouldn't even hurt.
"What are we doing today, teach?" John asked, ready to bombard him with annoying questions throughout his lesson.
Ethan focused his annoyance on John and spoke, "Alright. Get your pens out. Leon, put down the phone. We..." his expression turned triumphant, "have a quiz today."
"What?" John asked, startled.
It was Ethan's turn to smile.
"What do you mean you haven't found a dress yet?" Hannah asked in my ear, sounding shocked. "You're cutting it a little too close, are you? The party is in days."
"I know," I murmured absentmindedly. I was sitting on a wingback chair, flipping the pages of a fashion magazine. "It kind of flew off my mind."
"Flew off your mind? I bet you intentionally forgot about it since you hate parties."
"Hate is such a strong word. I'm just not necessarily excited about it. And you do know how busy I was organizing the party."
"Where will you find a dress? Please don't tell me you'll get something off the rack."
"That's why I'm in Annetta's dress shop," I answered with a sigh.
"What?" Her shout made me wince. "Y-you... But she has such a long waiting list. You didn't even tell me you were flying to New York."
I chuckled. "Let's just say we go way back. And it's just a short trip, Hannah. I'll be back tonight."
"What? So you're her friend? Details, Terry," Hannah wheedled.
Before I could reply, Julie came into the room.
"They're ready for you, miss," she told me.
I gave her a nod. "Hannah, I have to go," I said through the phone. "Talk to you later, alright?"
"Fine," she replied in a sullen tone. "God, I'm so jealous. Send me a pic of the dress, please?"
"I'll try. Bye."
I disconnected the call and gave Julie my phone. She ushered me into the back of the shop, where a seamstress waited along with two salesladies eager to assist. Miss Annetta, the owner of the shop, was sitting on one of the chairs, penciling a sketch.
She didn't look thrilled to see me. "You're too thin," she admonished.
I smiled. "How have you been, Miss Annetta?"
She harrumphed as she stood. "I'm not happy with you, ma chérie. You know how busy I am." She spread her arms apart and I laughed as I went to give her a hug. "But you know I'll always have time for you."
I closed my eyes, feeling warm all over.
"I know," I whispered. "I missed you."
Her arms tightened around me. "And I too." Stepping back from my embrace, she gave me a once-over. "Do you even have time to eat? You're so thin a light breeze could blow you away."
"I thought you were busy," I reminded.
She frowned at me. "Must be the height. You've grown taller since the last time I saw you. Which reminds me I have a bone to pick with you, Terry. You never came to see me anymore since—"
"I know," I muttered, cutting her off. Eyes downcast, I pulled in breath and went on, "I'm sorry. It's just that..."
"I understand, ma chérie." The severe expression on her face softened as she stared at me. "I know it was hard for you."
I gave her a small smile as I got myself together.
"Still, I'm upset," she declared. "So no complaints."
"I'm in your care, Miss Annetta," I replied.
"Of course," she continued. "I'll take care of everything."
The meaning behind her words made me wary. "I just need an evening dress," I told her.
Her eyes narrowed. "And I said no complaints."
It was useless to argue.
I let out a long sigh as she took me by the arm and made me stand in the middle of carpet-covered circular platform that faced three huge mirrors.
For the next hours, Miss Annetta had me try on beautiful dresses, skirts and blouses. She jotted down my measurements in between and studied rolls of different fabrics. She and her staff treated me like a mannequin, tugging and pulling, and whenever I voiced an opinion, she pretty much ignored it.
Still, I had fun.
Usually, whenever I was in need of a dress, I'd call a fashion designer in and have them take my measurements. The only time I'd see what I would wear was on the night of the event and so far, it had been satisfactory for me. And, as per usual, I had my maid take care of communicating with them.
When Julie told me that I had an appointment with Miss Annetta, I had to sit down in shock. She was so excited to tell me she had managed to set an appointment with one of the leading fashion designers in the industry that she didn't notice anything wrong. I could only stare at her as she blabbed on and on about her.
Miss Annetta used to be John's nanny.
She was a no-nonsense, practical and plain-speaking French woman and had taken cared of John for far more years than any of his nannies had. She was eighteen when she came into his household. John was five. We had gotten close because she was always with John whenever he visited me or I visited him. And even though she was strict, she gave the warmest hugs, told the most interesting stories and made the most delicious food.
She didn't treat us like children, which was why John respected her, and she gave me lots of advices, which was why I liked her. The summer John and his family moved into town was the happiest summer of my life. The three of us were together almost everyday. I used to imagine what my life would be if my mother was like Miss Annetta and sometimes, I did imagine her as my mother because she was so kind.
But now, I was too embarrassed to see her.
Because she'd been there when John broke his friendship with me.
She'd been there when John publicly shamed and hurt me.
But she'd chosen to be there for me when I cried and comforted me until I stopped.
"Why?" I had asked her. "Why did he do that to me?"
Her eyes were full of sorrow when she answered, "I'm sorry, ma chérie. But I don't know why."
I wondered, as I stared at her over the heads of her staff, if she knew the reason now. But I doubted she did because soon after that terrible night, she left John's household and went to study in France, like she had always dreamed of. It had been years since we last saw each other. Sometimes we talked on the phone. But she was a painful reminder of how John so over the years, the phone calls lessened until they stopped altogether.
"We'll fly in and be there at promptly six o'clock," she told me as we shared tea in her office. "The dress will be ready by then but I'll have your new clothes delivered by tomorrow."
"Thank you, Miss Annetta," I said gratefully.
She eyed me and sniffed disdainfully. "I wouldn't have known you were still alive if your maid hadn't called the shop."
I pressed my lips together and put down my cup. "I'm really sorry."
"Well, I too have been busy," she said in a thoughtful tone. "It's hard to make a name in this industry, you know."
"You still made it."
She smiled at me. "How very loyal you are. But," her smile disappeared, "I doubt I'd get too far without the Steele family vouching for me."
My chest tightened and I covered my discomfort by taking a sip of tea.
"I heard you're in the same school as John."
"Yes, I am."
"How is he?"
"I wouldn't know," I answered with a shrug.
One of her brows rose. "You're not friends?"
I frowned. "You know the answer to that."
She gave me a long stare.
Then she said, "If Julie hadn't called, you wouldn't have come to see me, would you?"
I didn't answer because it was the truth.
"Terry, it's been years. Shouldn't you just let it go?"
I shook my head.
"You were just a child. You both were."
"You don't
understand, Miss Annetta." My hands curled on the table and her eyes fell on them. "He was the only friend I have back then. I didn't have anyone. Not my mother, not my father, not even my brother. I only had him. And you."
