False Facades (Best Sellers: Best Romance/Humor )
Page 26
* * *
Long story short, Katherine Grenford finally found her son's room, daintily overheard (because real ladies never ever resort to "eavesdropping") some excruciatingly disturbing giggling and rustling with her ear in a slight, reclining position against the door, found out that the door was stupidly left unlocked (Dear lord, has she taught the boy nothing?), and proceeded to enter in a cool, collected manner.
"WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING?"
She had almost yelped in horror, had not years of etiquette training taught her that yelping is for dogs and small rodents, not ladies (Rule 192).
The sight was so terrible, so sickening, it made her stomach roil in protest. Her only son, heir to the whole Grenford enterprise, sprawled on his back in his bed, with his roommate bestriding him – an entangled mess of limbs, hair all mussed up, faces flushed red, panting hard – she shuddered and pressed the palm of her hand against her eyes until spots of colors danced behind her eyelids.
She gritted her teeth and whipped her hand away, fixating every inch of rage and disgust at the red headed devil. How dare he? Who did he think he was messing with?
"Hello, Samuel Westlane. How have you been treating my son?"
Vincent groaned and her eyes veered to him, jaw tightening in response. I am going to – you stupid – I – why is my son so – how can he – if he even thinks about protecting – She took a deep breath and closed off her ramblings before glaring at Sam again.
Sammy flinched and in her haste to get away from Vincent, tripped and tumbled onto the floor with a loud thud.
Vincent sat up quickly. "Sammy, are you alright?" He reached out his hands –
"Don't touch him!" Katherine spat.
Vincent looked up at his mother and his eyes went cold. Staring deliberately into the eyes of the prim business woman, he reached down and grabbed hold of Sammy before tugging her up next to him. Fury flashed in Katherine's eyes and a silent mutiny raged in his.
"What exactly were you two doing?" Her voice was deceptively cool.
Sammy spoke in a quavering voice. "Um, it wasn't what you think – I – we were just –"
"We were just wrestling with each other," Vincent smoothly took over.
"Wrestling?"
"Yes, wrestling. You know, like all red-blooded boys do." He spoke calmly, but there was a wry irony tinting his tone.
"On the bed?"
He shrugged, keeping his arm wrapped loosely around Sammy's shoulders. "The floor felt too cold. Where else would you suggest? The bathtub?" His lips twisted in an ugly smirk.
In a flash, Katherine crossed the room and cracked the palm of her hand against Vincent's face neatly. Sammy gasped, her hands trembling slightly as she reached up to touch his shoulder. Vincent's face remained stony as his cheek slowly reddened, but his fingers stroked Sammy's back soothingly.
Katherine was equally horrified at what she had just done. She never expected to lose her cool like that. It was completely – she shouldn't have – she wasn't supposed to act this way. She was supposed to be dignified, an expert at playing her cards right and keeping her emotions collected. She wasn't – It's all that boy's fault. She narrowed her eyes at Sammy before turning her attention back to her son.
"What is wrong with you, Vincent? When have you turned into such a – How can you act like this? What have I taught you? Wrestling? Do you take me as a complete fool? I know very well when you're lying to me, Vincent. You're my son! How can you - how can you be such a disgrace to the family? Dallying with – with this boy? Are you completely out of your mind? Do you know what kind of a scandal you can start? You're the heir and you're acting like you're – you're gay or something!"
Sammy chose to speak up then. "Please, Mrs. Grenford, it isn't what you think. Actually, I'm not who you think I am. Vincent was just – I'm actually a gi –"
"Mother, if you're all done with barging in and slapping me, please leave now." Vincent tightened his arm around Sammy. "I'm glad you finally remembered that you have a son and kudos to you for attempting this whole motherly act now, but really, after all these years, I'm fine. After all, I haven't killed myself yet, have I? I can take care of myself just great without your so-called pep talks and emotional support." He curled his lips. "I really don't need any help from a total stranger who calls herself my mother. Just keep up with the financial aid and I'll promise you I won't grow up into a serial killer."
Her lips went white. "You ungrateful little – who do you think I work so hard for? Who gave you such an excellent education, a beautiful home? Who –"
His eyes were a dark, murky grey as he spoke softly. "I appreciate all you've done so far. Really, I do. But when I was younger, sometimes I actually wished that we'd go bankrupt just so that I'd have a normal mother who'd actually live at home with her children, who'd sleep in a bedroom just down the hallway so that her children can run to every time they have a nightmare, who'd take the time to talk for more than a few minutes per week, who'd simply laugh, cry, scream, and shout in her house just because she was with her family and it was home."
He heaved a sigh. "Frankly, I don't know you, Mother. I haven't had and I expect I never will. It used to break my heart when I was still young enough to care, but you know how time covers up everything. I've learned not to expect much from you anymore." His hand wrapped tightly around Sammy's fingers. "I'm happy now. If you still treat me as a son, just let me be and leave us alone." He turned his face away. "Go home, Mother."
Sammy looked back and forth between them, her other hand turning clammy and twisting the sheets. She wanted to say something, but she couldn't seem to be able to find anything that seemed appropriate. Her mouth fluttered open and shut as she stared at Mrs. Grenford.
Katherine Grenford seemed to have turned into stone, if not for the fact that her hands were quivering in short spastic motions. She started to say something, before finally snapping her mouth shut and spinning around on her heels. She walked over to the door and rested on her hand on the doorknob for a brief pause as she thought. Her back taut with tension, she finally murmured, "I do care, Vincent. You'll understand soon enough that all I've ever done was to keep your best interests in mind. You'll understand that soon enough." When Vincent made no response, she finally walked out of the door. "Good bye, son." The door didn't exactly slam shut, but the silence of the room made the softest click seem deafening.
* * *
Katherine Grenford wandered through the hallways dazedly. Shock numbed her a while before rage started its course, boiling her blood to an overwhelming heat. Her footsteps started to speed up and she was soon clicking down the hallways with the momentum of a clacking typewriter.
The headmaster's eyes lit up in obvious relief when he saw her. "Mrs. Grenford, I trust –"
Without sparing him a glance, she tossed the keys at him and his arms flapped out wildly in his surprise. She continued walking without a word.
Just as she was about to leave the building so that she could brood – no, ponder extensively - at home, a loud voice caught her attention and stopped her in her footsteps.
"I don't know who he thinks he is. Stupid Sam Westlane. He's nothing special. I just don't understand why Tristan and Vincent are all, like, almost fawning over the guy. Just because he's new and quiet and red-headed, I don't see what's so great about him. Pfft, I mean, I'm so much cooler than he is and you've never seen Tristan talk to me like that." The voice took a whiny turn. "I mean, I've known him so much longer than that idiot, how come I'm not in his inner circle? It's not fair!"
Katherine turned around and walked slowly toward a room that a door slightly ajar. A short, tweedy looking boy with oily hair stood, waving his hands frantically as he yapped at a pair of large twins that looked slack jawed with stupidity.
"Someone should teach that jerk a lesson and put him in his place!"
"Why can't you be that someone?" she suggested, tone flat.
Marvin whirled around, his eyes wide with fear. He relaxed slight
ly when he saw that it was just Mrs. Grenford, before going stiff again. "Mrs. Grenford, I – I didn't see you there! What brings you to our fine school this fine morning?" He gulped.
She furrowed her eyebrow. "Do I know you?"
"N – no, but I'm Marvin, the son of Chip Onyenbreth."
"I see." She paused. "No, I don't. Who is he?"
"He – he's the owner of the Chip Chip Corporation. We specialize in the strategic manufacturing of the most top notch potatoes and all natural ingredients into a perfectly formulized product of zesty flavor and incredible texture –"
"What?"
"We make chips. Potato chips. You know, the famous slogan: 'Chip Chip Corporation's CEO Chip Always Chips In to Make Your Chippiest Chip!'" Marvin grinned proudly. "We've always admired the Grenford Enterprise and would love to get together sometimes to discuss, you know, the best marketing strategies and such."
"Right. I'll … keep that in mind." She shook her head. "Anyway, Marvin, how would you and your friends like to help me out in dealing with a pesky little problem that's been bugging us both?"
His eyebrows furrowed. "What, you have a bug infestation problem too?"
She stared at him. "No, Marvin. Sam Westlane."
"Oh!" His eyes started shifting. "But, I – I don't know. He's pretty good friends with Vincent and Tristan and if they ever find out, my butt is going to be pummeled faster than you can say 'Chip Chip Corp –"
"If you help me out, I'll promise you that your –" She wrinkled her nose. " - Chip Chip Corp – whatever - will seriously benefit in the near future."
"Really? Gosh, Dad would be so – but, what exactly do you want us to do?"
Marco and Polo finally made their voices heard. "Yeah, like what?"
Katherine's lips curled in a dark smile that chilled the whole room.
* * *
For a while, there was no noise in the room as Vincent and Sammy just sat there on the bed. Both seemed completely wiped out with a weary, drawn look on both their faces. Sammy rested her head on his shoulder as her hand crept up to touch his cheek. "You okay?"
"Mmm." He grunted as he closed his eyes.
"Why didn't you let me explain? I could have told her that I was a girl and maybe she wouldn't have gotten so angry –"
He chuckled low, bitterly. "Nah. She would have still blown up. The only difference would be that she would immediately get you kicked out."
She tensed up. "Still. You two had such a huge fight and it's just so – so –"
"Believe me, this is probably the first time we've ever spoken so long. It's no skin off my back."
Silence reigned supreme for the next few minutes. "You know, I think she really does care."
He jolted in surprise. "What?"
"You're her son. Every mother cares for her son –"
"Uh huh, right, and that explains all those –"
"I'm not saying that she hasn't made mistakes in the way she brought you and Danielle up, but you know, maybe she just has a hard time expressing her feelings. I think she really does believe she's doing the best she can as a mother to you two. She looked so hurt when you asked her to leave."
"Hurt? The Ice Queen?"
"Vincent! She's your mother and I can't believe she would honestly do something to hurt you!"
"I know that! It's just – you don't understand, alright? I've never had anything from her that was personal. To this day, I don't know what her favorite color is, what she likes to do late at night, what her favorite TV show is, if she even watches TV. I don't know anything about her besides the fact that she's my biological mother and she's damn good at business and sending us money every month. You've always had a loving family – awesome parents, a little brother – your life is complete, Sammy –"
She twisted away from him. "Was, Vincent! Was! Don't you remember? Half of my loving family is dead. My grandfather, my parents. My little brother is locked away in a hospital and I haven't got a clue if he's even still breathing. The only relation I'm aware of is a demented uncle who gets all touchy feely whenever I'm near him and calls my hair his precious!" She was feeling a familiar sting in her eyes again. "So, I'm just saying that maybe you're the one who doesn't understand! You still have a mother and a father, Vince. They're still alive and as long as they're here, you still have a chance to get to know them, love them. It doesn't necessarily mean that you guys would be all happy happy now, but at least you still have time to try! Just stop – stop acting so damned spoiled!"
Vincent went shock still and they stared at each other, chests heaving slightly. He reached for her, but she shrank away and shook her head furiously. "No, I – I need to think for a minute –"
"Maybe I should go take a walk –"
"No, I should go. You stay. I want to get some fresh air," she said.
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with –"
"No. No. We should have some space apart, clear our heads, think over things for a while and – yeah. I'll see you later, okay?"
He nodded and she scrambled off the bed. She took a step toward the door, then turned back quickly and planted a kiss on his cheek, before scurrying out.
He fell back on his bed and folded his arms under his neck, looking up at the shadows that played along the ceiling.
* * *
Sammy wandered through the halls, rubbing her hands together absentmindedly. She tried to focus on one certain point, but it seemed like her brain was a jumbled mess today. All these fleeting thoughts darting around in her mind like tiny hummingbirds, so difficult to catch hold of.
"'ello, Sam."
She looked up, startled. Marvin blocked her way, his legs spread out and his hands at his hips like a nerdy swashbuckler wannabe.
"Um, hi."
He grinned nastily. "Lookee what we 'ave 'ere, boys. New kid all by his little lonesome."
She blinked in astonishment as Marco and Polo suddenly appeared out of nowhere, flanking her by both sides. "What – what's going on?"
"Nurthing much. Just wanted to talk, you see? Boys!" He snapped his fingers.
Sammy tensed up, but nothing happen. Marvin dropped his head with a suffering moan. "Marco, Polo, what are you doing?"
One of them blinked. "Nothing."
"Exactly!" He snarled. "Why didn't you grab him?"
"But you didn't tell us to and we couldn't understand what you were saying anyway. You had this funny sound to your words –"
Marvin turned puce. "It's an accent, understand? It makes me sound like the cool kidnapper sort."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Silence.
"Where's Sam?"
Sammy was busy edging down the hallways, but at his words, quickly started running instead.
"Go!" Marvin snapped his fingers again.
"Go where?"
"Duh! Grab him!"
"But you didn't tell us –"
"That's what the snap is for!"
"Well, why didn't you just say so? Have to make everything so complicated –"
"Well, I'm telling you now, aren't I? Go, you idiots! He's getting away!"
* * *
I have no idea what they want to do, but it's probably not going to be something pleasant. Sammy's heart was thudding in her throat as she gasped for breath, sprinting down the hallways.
She had just opened her mouth to scream when she was roughly tackled from behind. "Oof!" Crashing against the ground, jarring her chin against the hard surface, has a tendency to sweep all remaining breath from your lungs and make your world spin in front of you for a couple of minutes.
These couple of minutes was more than enough for the twins to lumber to their feet and hoist Sammy up by her arms, one on each side. She blinked dazedly as they moved back to Marvin, her feet barely grazing against the floor and her arms bruising from their tight grips.
Marvin grinned in triumph and stepped forward to sock her in the gut. The breath she had just regained quickly whooshed out from the pain and she would have dou
bled over had not the twins been holding her up. Who knew the twerp can pack such a punch? He chirped, "That was for making me look stupid, you stupid bastard."
He waved his hands. "Come on, guys. We can't keep her waiting too long."
Sammy blinked in confusion. Who? What? Marvin led the way as the twins moved her outside the glass doors, down the steps and across the grass toward the woods.
Dread tingled along her spine and she tried to kick, swiping her feet right and left at the human vises, as she started to scream. "Help! Vincent! Will! Tristan! Somebody! Help! Please! Vince!"
"Shut him up!" Marvin hissed. The twins shook her as they started to run deeper into the cover of the woods, but she only screamed louder. "Oh, for the love of –" He backhanded her across the face and she wheezed, her cheek already stinging. He curled his lips and leaned forward. "Whiny little girly bastard. Take it like a man!"
She whipped her head around and snarled, "I'll show you who's a man, you little wimp!" She brought her head forward and cracked her forehead against his face, sending the boy reeling backward. Pain jolted in her own head, sending spots of white light before her vision, but boy, was it worth it.
"GAH! He broke my nose!" Marvin yelped in an even more nasal voice than usual, clamping his hands over his nose, where blood was oozing out profusely. "You little punk! You're going down!" He reared back with his hand fisted and she closed her eyes involuntarily, flinching backward, when another voice interrupted.
"That's enough, Marvin. Marco, Polo, drop him."
She crashed to the ground with a thud and immediately covered her bruised stomach, trying to ease the pain.
"You three may go now. I'll take it from here."
"But, Mrs. Grenford," Marvin whined. "He broke my nose. Can't I return the favor?"
Sammy looked up sharply to find Katherine Grenford staring down at her coolly. The woman spoke dryly, but kept her eyes on Sammy. "As much as I want to fulfill your wishes, Marvin, we're already running short on time and I want to get this done before Vincent suspects something and comes running to find him. Go now."