by Nora Cobb
“Who names a kid Wren?” I ask, sitting down at her desk.
“Who names a kid Astrid?” she replies, dumping the bag onto the desk.
I hold up my hand and lean away from her makeup sponge. “Forget it. Don’t touch it,” I tell her, “I have my own stuff.”
Charlotte shrugs her shoulders and tosses her gear into the bottom of her closet behind a pair of old rain boots.
“She won’t look there?” I ask.
“She’s not going to look too hard.” Charlotte watches me for a moment. “What’s up, sis?”
I take a deep breath. “Dad’s coming to visit. He wants to meet me in Dr. Rawlins’ office.”
“Of course Marianne is in the middle of it.” She smiles when my expression questions her. “You can call her by her first name in private. She may try and pretend to be intimidating, but we all know she was a scholarship kid.”
“I thought she had money?” I ask stupidly.
Charlotte walks to her closet and thumbs through her clothes. “She does now. Earned every penny of it through work and marriage.”
“She’s married?” I ask. “I can’t picture it.”
“Bitches need love too.” Charlotte throws her head back and laughs. “She’s currently divorced. You should watch her flirt with the single dads on parents’ weekend. Marianne knows how to level up.” She turns around, holding a dress with a high collar. “You should wear this.”
My face screws up in a frown. “I can’t fake wholesome.”
“You need to learn.” Charlotte tosses the dress at me, and I catch it.
“How’d you know I was going to ask to borrow something?” I ask.
“I didn’t.” She looks through her closet again. “But I was going to suggest it. Our father is a snob. Don’t give him anything to work with.” Her voice trails off as she examines a knit dress in navy. “What time is your meeting?”
“Immediately after school tomorrow.”
“Maybe I’ll swing by and say hi.” Charlotte hands me a gray turtleneck dress. “Wear this with your school blazer and your chunky shoes. If you look too nice, Dad will skip out of there without giving you money.”
“How much should I ask for?” I ask her out of curiosity.
Charlotte flounces down on her bed. “My allowance is four thousand.”
“How often do you get an allowance?”
“Every week.” She leans forward, places her hand under my chin, and closes my gaping mouth. “Oh, all the things I need to teach you. And we have less than a year.”
Chapter 33
Astrid
I put my forehead down on my desk and wait until the classroom empties out before I move. My palms are damp, and my stomach won’t give the rest of my body a break. The hardness feels good against my forehead as I struggle hard to get a grip. It’s only a man, and he’s definitely no saint. The classroom is empty, so I indulge in a loud groan. School is over for the day, and it’s time to meet my father.
When I walk into Foxworth House, Alice looks at me as if I’m a mutant escaped from a lab. Or maybe a six-foot-tall rabbit modeling the school jacket. Self-consciously, I touch my black eye. The swelling went down, so I didn’t bother with concealer. When Gillian and Bobby saw me at school again, they gave me the thumbs-up with smiles. In fact this whole week, I’ve been able to tell who goes to the Pit and who doesn’t by their reaction to my shiner. Morbid curiosity made me leave it alone, but today, I should’ve covered it like Charlotte suggested. Fuck it. I’m here now.
“Please have a seat,” Alice hurries into Dr. Rawlins’ office and says, “She’s here.” She returns immediately before I can sit down. “You can go right in, Astrid.”
I try to be civil about her attentiveness, but that woman has given me attitude since day one. Holding a grudge is a waste of time, but making her sweat a few more times would amuse me. Chin tilted, I waltz past Alice into Rawlins’ office and the door shuts behind me.
“Good…It’s Astrid,” Dr. Rawlins’ voice falters for a moment when she sees my eye. “Let me introduce you to your father. This is your father, Dr. Elliot Howland.”
The second Elliot Howland sees me, his thin lips frown. I don’t respond and spend a moment just looking at him. His slim body is in an expensive suit that’s low-key in a dull gray plaid. His blond hair is the same color as Charlotte’s except for the gray around his temples. Relief washes over me that he doesn’t look a thing like Charlotte. Though his face is handsome, it’s tight and thin. Nothing about his expression gives off a hint of openness and warmth. He looks like the type of man who would abandon his kin.
He holds out his hand, and I shake it firmly, gripping it as strongly as he grips mine. He lifts an eyebrow as if surprised. Did he expect me to kiss his school ring? For what? I tamp down the bitterness, which I’m sure is showing, and wait for him to prove what an asshole he is.
“I’ve been looking forward to this meeting,” he says in a deep voice.
I force my expression to stay neutral, but I don’t respond. Listening is more important. That, and why lie?
“Why don’t you both have a seat?” Dr. Rawlins moves away from her desk. “And I’ll be outside the door…”
My startled gaze pins hers, and I’m about to grab hold of her arm and beg Dr. Rawlins not to leave me here alone with him. I might need a witness. Before I can do anything, Howland speaks.
“No, I’d prefer if you stayed,” he replies, and glances back at me.
“I want you to stay too,” I tell Dr. Rawlins. She looks a bit surprised, but the look passes quickly. My relationship with her is shit, but at least we have one. Well, the devil you know, and I know her. Despite our disagreements, in her own way, she is trying to help me. I’m not her favorite, but at least she tries to be neutral.
There are two wingback chairs in front of the desk, and he motions to one before I sit down. He sits down beside me while Dr. Rawlins sits behind her desk. No one speaks, but I notice the uneasiness in Dr. Rawlins’ eyes. Something’s about to drop, but she’s not going to tell me.
He starts the conversation in a booming voice. “Astrid, though I’m encouraged that we are finally meeting, the circumstances pain me. I had hoped my influence would have circumvented the type of behavior you have recently displayed.”
My shoulders drop, and I try not to roll my eyes. The father that abandoned me has the nerve to lecture me. I keep my mouth shut and let him talk. Let him give me sufficient ammo to shoot him down later.
“I’ve heard details of your thievery and your promiscuity here at Stonehaven.” He scowls at Rawlins like she cheered me on. “From other sources,” he adds. “It’s alarming that given the opportunity to better yourself, you fall back on old habits instead.”
My mouth drops open, but I close it again. He doesn’t ask me if any of this is true. He refers to my old habits as if he knows me. Obviously, he doesn’t know shit.
And when he continues, I want to pretend to be asleep until he gets bored and leaves.
“To be a student at Stonehaven requires more than paying tuition. I made assurances that you would be a willing student and grateful for your opportunity to have more than what you’ve been given. I will not have you embarrassing me with your deviant behavior. Marianne has shown me your essays, and I’m convinced that you are capable. I expect more from you, Astrid.”
Holy fuck. I’m speechless because I do not know where to begin.
“I’m sure that Astrid agrees, Dr. Howland.” Dr. Rawlins jumps right in with damage control. “And as I have told you, she is making progress in her decorum. Her teachers are impressed with her schoolwork. But as a trained psychiatrist, I can tell you that she is going through an adjustment as most teenagers do. Come graduation, she will surprise not only herself but her peers.”
So when do I get to talk? My nails bite into my palms, and I grip onto my temper like a tiger ready to bite my ass. They’re expecting me to either take it or lash out. I can do this. I can stay in control.
I clear my throat and sit up straight. “We finally meet, Dr. Howland, and though I am impressed by your charity, it might have helped if you had been paying child support for the last eighteen years.”
Dr. Rawlins leaps in. “Astrid! This is not the forum to discuss that issue.”
I smile innocently because I’ve said nothing wrong. “Really? Would court be better?” I look at my father fiercely. “I wish I had your nerve because you wouldn’t have gotten away with what you’ve done to my mother. She struggled to raise me on her own, and you have the balls to call me an embarrassment? You know what’s embarrassing? Having stuck-up kids ask me who my daddy is. Ashamed of me? I’m ashamed of you.”
“Astrid,” Dr. Rawlins tries to shut it down again.
“Why now?” I ask, “Why show up now? What are you after? Everybody has an agenda.”
My father refuses to answer me, much less look at me, as he stares straight ahead.
“I don’t need you or this school.” I stand up. “Don’t contact me again. You are not my father. My last name is Bowen, and no one knows you exist. You don’t exist in my life, never have, and never will. I reject you.”
He lifts his chin as if I’m a fly buzzing around him, but refuses to make eye contact when he answers me. “Ms. Bowen, if you are so adamant about rejecting my status as your father, then I shall have no choice but to end my financial support of your mother’s drug treatment.”
My heart drops and my knees weaken at the threat. “No. No, you don’t get to decide this. This is between you and me, not Mom! You have to help her. You owe her something.”
He gazes coldly into my eyes. “I owe her nothing.”
Dr. Rawlins swoops in to change the topic. “Astrid, where did you get that black eye?”
I glare at her but refuse to answer. She said she would not discuss the theft or anything else that happened, but here’s Elliot Howland throwing it in my face. She doesn’t need anymore.
Dr. Rawlins senses my hostility. “I did not tell your father about the theft or the other accusation,” she states clearly. “Unfortunately, you’ve gained a reputation, and we’re only in the fall semester.”
“Astrid,” Elliot speaks in an authoritative tone that demands an answer. “Who hit you?”
“Was it one of the boys?” asks Dr. Rawlins.
I hate them, and they deserve it, but I won’t play that kind of sick game. I shake my head swiftly. “No, I snuck out and visited my old school. I got jumped by some kids. They called me a stuck-up, snobby girl who doesn’t know where she came from and thinks she’s better than everyone else. I told them that wasn’t true and that I was just like this because my dad fucked my mom and took off.”
I think Dr. Rawlins wants to slap me, but she can’t.
Elliot stands up. He’s had enough. But he leaves me with a parting request.
“Astrid, I will present my ultimatum to you again as your father. Get in line and stop being an embarrassment, or else it will all disappear for you and your mother. You may not care what hole you have to crawl back into, but think about your mother before you choose to ever embarrass me again.”
Chapter 34
Astrid
In stony silence, Elliot and I leave Foxworth House together. A passerby would think we were strangers who just happen to be in the same place at the same time. If it weren’t for Mom, I would tell him off again, grab my things, and return to Monarch Academy for good. Instead, I start to walk away, but Howland stops me before I can run down the stone stairs and away from him.
“How are you doing for money?” he asks.
I’m speechless as he pulls out his wallet and holds out some bills. He watches coolly as my mouth screws up.
“It occurs to me that if you had money, you wouldn’t need to find it in other ways.” Howland glances at my black eye. “The next time you’re hurt, call my office. But it would be easier to avoid your old friends.”
“Mom told me not to tell our secret,” I reply. “And I haven’t.”
He pushes the money into my hand, and ashamed, I take hold of it. He watches me thoughtfully and then shakes his head. At first, I’m offended until he speaks.
“No, Astrid. I can see you’re not the type that tells.”
Clicking footsteps approach, and I look over. Charlotte starts up the steps toward us. She looks striking in a light blue sweater and matching gray boots. The wind isn’t blowing, but her hair is bouncing as if it were. She gazes at Howland with a big smile.
“Hello, Daddy,” she chirps.
Elliot eyes her with more contempt than he showed me. He nods briefly and then hurries down the steps and walks quickly down the path toward guest parking. I stare at him, wondering what is wrong with this man. Charlotte has to be his favorite daughter, and he just blew her off like she’s worse than me.
“How was it?” she asks, touching my arm.
I press my lips hard together and shake my head, willing my tears not to fall. “I’m annoyed, that’s all,” I tell her quickly.
“Our father is an asshole, and unfortunately, it won’t change.” She slips her hand around my arm, and we walk away. “Evidently the gossip has leaked through tendrils of idleness and is slowly wrapping around the campus.”
I gawk and then laugh. “What are you talking about? You are so weird.”
Charlotte laughs. “See? I knew I could get you to laugh. Your father’s identity is still a secret to the rest of campus, but rumor has it that you are an heiress.” She smiles as we walk across the yellowing grass. “You’re now in an exclusive club. The bastards of Stonehaven. I mean that in the literal sense, not as an insult.” She hugs my arm. “Oh, Astrid, it’s not all gloom and doom to be rich.”
“Really? Because that was a freaking miserable reunion. He took no responsibility for anything he’s done wrong in the past.” I sigh. “Do you mind having a thieving whore for a half-sister?”
“There are worse sins, like being dull, banal, boring.” Charlotte waves her hand in a flourish.
“Those are all the same things,” I tell her.
“Ennui is only appealing when you’re attractive and in the Hamptons.” She makes that cute gerbil face again. “Oh, Astrid, it’s almost the weekend, and I love having a secret sister.”
“You are so fucking goofy,” I pull my hand away. “Fuck, you’re making me cry.”
“We have to cover that eye,” she giggles, “I’m sure Daddy loved it.”
Charlotte insists that we go back to her dorm room so she can cover up my black eye. She sits me by the window and takes out her secret makeup stash. In her bag are bite-sized candy bars— the kind rich people give out for Halloween. Not the off-brand dollar store candy but the good stuff—the name brands.
“Take some if you want,” she says, “I have more.”
“How do you have so much junk food?” I reach for M&Ms.
“I eat my emotions when I’m bored with shopping.” She smiles sadly, but there’s more to what she’s confessing. She changes the topic quickly. “So tell me what happened.”
I recount every word, and Charlotte makes the appropriate faces at the key points in the story. She dabs gently at my eye and doesn’t complain when a stray tear messes up her handiwork.
“Our father is a distant man when it comes to emotions,” she states firmly, “If it weren’t for my mother, I would have no social skills. When I was younger, he was a bit more carefree, but I had to think about it long and hard. When did he start becoming an asshole? And it started happening when he started working longer hours at the hospital.”
“How do you suppose he met my mother?” I ask her as if she would know.
Charlotte keeps her eyes on what she’s doing. “Well, my parents almost divorced, but then I showed up.”
I nod but keep my thoughts to myself. If Elliot Howland had divorced his wife, would he have married my mom? As virtuous as that sounds, I’ve met him, and the man seems like a snob that treats people by the value of their bank
account. Not just me and Mom, but the way he spoke to Dr. Rawlins. She’s also a doctor, but he acts as if her credentials don’t count because she doesn’t have a practice. Or maybe it’s because she’s a woman. Who even knows?
“You’re deep in thought,” says Charlotte
I shake my head. “Nothing. He told me not to be an embarrassment and then he handed me a wad of cash.”
“Oh, how much did he give you?”
I pull the cash out of my pocket and count two thousand dollars. Almost the exact amount I was accused of stealing. I start to tear up.
Charlotte clutches my shoulder. “Astrid, sweetie, we can get more.”
