by Ruby Vincent
“How does she do that?” Estelle raged as we headed for our favorite spot beneath an oak tree. “How does she keep getting her hands on the combination to your locker?”
“My money is on Tracy,” I replied. “She got her job back in administration as the office aide, and because of that stupid rule that we have to tell the office our locker combinations, she’ll always know if I change it.”
“If Principal Davis knew what she was doing, she would be in such shit—suspended for sure. So what’s the plan?” Estelle asked as she plopped down next to me in the grass. “I want to get Madison and her clones as much as you do, but she’s not worth getting kicked out.”
“No one’s getting kicked out. You’re right; I won’t be expelled for that chick. We’re going to get her by doing exactly what she’s done to me: hitting her where it hurts.”
“How do we do that?”
“We find out what her weakness is.”
“Rae, we went over this. She has it all, remember. Looks. Money. Hot guys at her beck-and-call. Madison Bernard has no weaknesses.”
“Yes, she does. Everyone does. We’re going to find out hers.”
She sighed. “I don’t know who I’m fooling. I was in the moment those diapers fell out of your locker. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”
I didn’t speak. I just leaned over and rested my head on her shoulder. I didn’t know what I did to deserve Estelle— Actually, I know I did nothing to deserve her. When she first transferred into our school, I pretended she didn’t exist. Why wouldn’t I? She had nothing to do with my climb to the top of the social ladder so she wasn’t worth my time.
Then I got pregnant. Everyone I called a friend turned on me and people threw their backpacks on seats rather than let me sit next to them at lunch. I ended up alone in the back of the cafeteria by myself until one day she pulled out a chair, sat down, and started talking to me like it was no big deal. I guess, as the child of a former teen mom, she knew where I was coming from.
“So how do we play this?” asked Estelle. “Madison is not going to let us anywhere near her and her friends won’t be sharing deep secrets anytime soon.”
I chewed my lips, thinking. “We know her schedule. I have one class with her, you have two. And she has gym during second block right after me. For now, we watch.”
“Oooh, this is going to be fun.” She rubbed her hands together. “Taking down Meadow Creek’s queen bee. I wonder if she’ll cry.”
I laughed and leaned back onto the grass, resting my head on my hands. I wasn’t feeling so bad about this year now.
AN HOUR LATER, WE WERE driving into town. As we got closer to my house, my good mood evaporated like a dewdrop in the desert. Even if I dealt with my Madison problem, it wouldn’t change the fact that Christian Moreau lived right down the hall. As bad as Madison was... Christian was ten times worse.
“Do you want me to go in with you?”
I jerked. I tore my eyes from the window and turned to her. “What?”
“Your dad is at work and your mom has therapy today, right? Do you want me to stay with you so you’re not alone with Christian?”
I shook my head. Although part of me wanted to say yes. “No, it’s okay. I don’t think the guy is going to murder me or anything. If he starts up with the usual stuff, I’ll head to my room and lock him out. I can deal.”
I was proud of myself. I sounded way more confident than I felt.
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
Estelle turned onto my street and I saw right away that we had nothing to worry about. There were no cars in my driveway. Not Mom’s, Dad’s, or Christian’s. He wasn’t home.
I said goodbye to Estelle and let myself inside. I dumped my things on my bed then tramped downstairs to start my chores. My mom worked from home as a virtual assistant after being fired from her job as an actual assistant. She took care of most things around the house, but on days when she had therapy, it fell to me. I had to sweep, mop, cook dinner, and fold the laundry.
She said it was because “chores give children a sense of purpose and contributing to the family which promotes good self-esteem.” But my thought was that she wanted to make sure that whenever she left me alone, I would be too busy to go out and get knocked up again.
It wasn’t a big deal though. I’d get it out of the way, then head upstairs and print out more photos.
I knocked out the sweeping and mopping first, before folding and putting away one basket of laundry. The whole thing took an hour and neither my parents nor Christian made an appearance.
I decided to start on dinner anyway. A peek into the fridge revealed Mom had gone shopping before leaving for her session. I wasn’t nearly as good a cook as her, but I did pick up a few tips. One of which was how to make a quick sauce that could go with anything. I took out the salmon, rice, ready-made salad, plus honey, soy, and balsamic vinegar for the sauce.
The sauce ingredients I threw into a bowl and gave a quick mix. That done, I set the rice to boil on the stove and put the salmon on a tray. My sauce was dumped over it then I stuck it in the oven. Next, I had to wash the salad.
Bowl, bowl, bowl.
Mom was always moving the salad bowl on me. I drifted over to the cabinets next to the kitchen sink and threw one open.
There.
I took the bowl down, grabbed my salad bag, then dumped the contents inside. I moved over to the sink to wash it and froze.
Through the kitchen window, casually leaning against his car, was Christian. He made no move to come inside. He wasn’t looking toward the house at all. He was just standing there, staring across the lawn while the wind whipped at his clothes.
I abandoned the salad and rushed upstairs. I burst into my room, snagged my camera off the bed, and was back in front of the window in less than a minute.
It was a rare opportunity that I could get a shot of Christian relatively up close without him noticing me. The click, click, click of my camera filled the room.
I squinted through the viewfinder as I shifted to get a better angle. If he would just move his head—
As though he heard me, Christian suddenly swung his head around and faced front. I snapped quicker.
Something shot in between Christian and my lens and I yanked my camera down.
The girl launched herself at Christian and he caught her, holding her up so that she could wind her legs around his waist while he grabbed her ass. Heat flooded my cheeks. This had gotten real awkward, real fast.
From my spot at the window, I could see the girl was grinding herself against Christian’s groin while her hands roamed all over his body. His hair, his chest, then down to the hem of his shirt as she tugged at it. I could tell two things about this girl. One: she wasn’t Madison. Two: she wanted Christian now.
God, please tell me they are not about to have sex in my driveway!
Even with how often I took pictures of Christian while he wasn’t looking, I had never felt like I was spying on him until now. The last thing I wanted to do was watch Christian hook up.
Before she could get his shirt over his head, he caught her arms and pulled her off. Christian set her back on her feet and the two got in his car and peeled out of my driveway. I guess I should just be thankful they hadn’t decided to take the party upstairs.
“RACHEL? RACHEL?”
I blinked back to reality. The three of us were seated at the dinner table. Christian had yet to walk through the door. “Yes, Mom?”
“Where is Christian? Did he tell you what time he would be home?”
I snorted internally. “No, Mom, he didn’t. But I think he’s with a friend.”
She looked over at my father. “I know he’s eighteen, but since he’s living here now, we should set some ground rules. Right, honey?”
He hummed, not taking his eyes off his food. “Yes. Whatever you say.”
“Jack, are you listening to me?”
“What?” He yanked his head up. His gaze fell on me. “Rachel, listen
to your mother.”
Mom’s lips pursed until they almost disappeared. “Jack, when you don’t listen to me, I feel ignored.”
His jaw clenched. “Margaret, when you accuse me of ignoring you, I feel frustrated.”
“Jack, when you—”
“Margaret. Jack,” I cut in. “When you fight in front of me, I feel extremely uncomfortable.”
Mom quickly smoothed out her face. “We’re not fighting, sweetie. We’re communicating.”
“Sounds like fighting to me,” I said under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Mom.” I dropped my fork on my plate and stood up. “I’ll do the dishes.”
“Thank you, baby.”
I collected the plates and the utensils while my parents turned the conversation to Christian.
“I think we should hold him to the same rules as Rachel.” My ears perked up. “He’s our responsibility now; we need to know where he is. We’ll tell him he has to be home for dinner and there’s a ten o’clock curfew.”
I hid my smile. Christian’s going to love that.
Dad nodded. “I agree. They can share the chores too. He can clean and help make dinner while you’re at— while you’re out.”
I put down my glass and went around the table to my parents. I kissed them both on the cheek. “Mom. Dad. I love you.”
Mom looked faintly surprised, but smiled back at me. “Oh, thank you, sweetie. I love you too.”
I waited until I was in the kitchen to let out a soft giggle. I prayed I was in the room when Mom told Christian the “ground rules.”
I imagined the look on his face as I closed the kitchen curtains and got started on the dishes. Mom came in a few minutes later and helped me wrap up the leftovers.
“I’m going to save Christian a plate and—”
The front door slammed.
“There he is.” Mom tapped my shoulder. “Rachel, take this food up to him.”
“Me? But I’m doing the dishes.”
She waved that away. “I’ll do that. You cleaned the house and made dinner; you’re done for the day. Go upstairs and relax.”
“But—”
“Rachel.” Mom grasped my shoulder and turned me to face her. “I want you to know that I recognize all that you’ve been doing to help out and keep to the new rules. You were having a very hard time before you left for Grandma’s.” If Mom noticed my body going rigid beneath her hands, she gave no sign. “But since you’ve come back, you’ve been doing so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”
She looked so happy all I could say was, “Thanks, Mom. I... have been trying.”
Mom brushed a curl out of my eyes. “I know. Now you go ahead. I’ll finish up in here.” I nodded and turned to leave. “Don’t forget Christian’s dinner.”
I backpedaled, grabbed the plate, and took off up the stairs. I eyed Christian’s door when I reached the landing. I was tempted to leave the plate on the floor, knock, and run away. But that was what Old Rachel would do— Or New Rachel. I couldn’t keep them straight anymore.
He’s not going to intimidate me.
With that thought in my head, I lifted my hand and knocked. “Christian, I made dinner. Here’s your—”
The door swung open and I was hit in the face with his scent first. Sweet and spicy at the same time, it enveloped me as I was hit with the second realization. Christian was shirtless. Eyes level with his pecs, they couldn’t help but travel over the bumps and ridges of his body. His chest was smooth, all perfectly sculpted tanned skin. I don’t know what I expected—maybe for him to be covered with tattoos of skulls and triple sixes, or for him to be riddled with scratch marks from his afternoon playdate. But no, he was—
Perfect.
I swallowed. It was just like I told Estelle. It wasn’t right for people like him to look this good.
“I promise you, Bryant.” I snapped my head up. “The rest of me is just as impressive.”
I flushed. “You’re disgusting. Here. I have your dinner.” I shoved the plate at him and he took it off my hands.
I watched him as he studied it. “Did I hear that right? You made it for me?” He looked into my reddening face. “How sweet.”
I wasn’t a fan of that mocking tone or the growing smirk that went along with it. “I made dinner for everyone, and because my parents don’t know you’re Satan, they refuse to let you starve. Just shut up and eat it.”
I twisted around and stomped across the hall. I felt his eyes as Christian’s husky laughter followed me into the room and burrowed into my ears. That laughter was becoming the soundtrack to my life. I could see it in his eyes that Christian saw me as a toy for his amusement.
Taunt me, put me down, tease me, whatever it took to turn my pain into his private joke. What I wouldn’t give to wipe that smirk off his face for once, but what I told Estelle earlier that day wasn’t true. Everyone had a weakness... except for Christian.
Chapter Seven
“We’ve been at this for days and we’ve got nothing.” Estelle spread my latest batch of photos across the bed. “Ooh, I look hot in this one.”
“You can have it,” I said without looking away from my laptop. “We knew it wasn’t going to be easy.” I picked up our previous conversation. “But soon we’ll dig up something on Madison.”
We had managed to make it to Friday intact. After the diaper incident, Madison hadn’t tried anything else, but that might have had to do with me launching myself at her ready to claw her eyes out. I don’t think she was expecting that, but eventually she would recover and go right back to tormenting me.
“I practically stalked her yesterday,” said Estelle, “and the only thing interesting I found out is that she’s still hooking up with Christian. I spotted them going at it in the back seat of her car. I thought they were done after he screwed a girl in front of the school and then she jumped in bed with his best friend. That’s some kind of relationship they’ve got going,” she deadpanned.
I hummed. “So that’s what he does all afternoon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Christian.” I pressed print then got to my feet. I threw myself down next to Estelle. “Every day he goes somewhere after school. He’s gone all afternoon and only comes back in time for dinner. He’s been good about following the rules, but he won’t say where he goes. I should have figured he was off dropping his pants.”
She raised a brow. “You sound upset.”
“What? No, I don’t,” I snapped. Her eyebrows got higher. “And you can put those back down. I don’t care what he does or who he does it with. If anything, it’s great for me because I barely have to deal with him. I thought living with Christian would be a nightmare, but when he is around, he keeps to himself and since Mom is home all the time, he can’t pull anything.”
She shrugged. “So maybe he’s waiting until your mom isn’t home.”
“Thanks for that, Estelle,” I cried, mouth hanging open. She giggled. “Luckily she doesn’t go anywhere other than therapy.”
“Good.” Her gaze drifted down to the photos. “Wow, this one is beautiful. I’m making that one my new profile picture.”
“I’m happy to be your unpaid photographer.”
“You should be. You should see all the likes I get when I post your pictures. It’s free advertising until you go pro.”
Knock. Knock.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Rachel.” Mom opened the door and let herself in. “Sweetie, I wanted to let you know your father and I are going away this weekend.”
“You’re what?” I flipped over and sat up. “Since when?”
“It was a last-minute thing. One of your father’s colleagues rented a cabin in Summer Hills, but had to cancel. They asked us if we would like to go in their place. I feel this will be a great opportunity for your father and me to reconnect emotionally—”
“Mom, you really don’t have to—”
“—and sexually,” she finishe
d.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Estelle clap her hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh. I groaned. “Woman, you’re killing me.”
She chuckled. “Anyway, we’re leaving before dinner and coming back Sunday morning. I’ll leave your dinners on the stove. Are you and Christian going to be... okay by yourselves?”
I sensed a double meaning behind her question. That I was on a no-boys ban was freaking obvious, but after seeing Christian and me in action the last few days, Mom stopped asking why we weren’t friends anymore. The tension in the air when we were in the same room was so thick, Mom couldn’t spout her psychology sayings around it.
Mom and Dad just stared at us both over the dinner table while we either ignored each other or answered in monosyllables when we were forced to acknowledge the other existed.
“We’ll be fine. Christian will most likely spend the weekend with his friends. I’ll chill with some old movies and ice cream.”
The wrinkle between her eyebrows didn’t go away. “Same rules apply.”
“Yes.”
“Your curfew is ten o’clock.”
“Absolutely.”
“No people over except Estelle.”
“Who would I want over beside her?”
“Keep the house clean.”
“Of course.”
“Try to get along with Christian.”
“Now that last one might be impossible.”
Her brows smoothed out as she allowed a smile on her lips. “Alright, baby. I have to pack, but I’ll call to check up on you. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Estelle leaped on me as soon as the door clicked shut.
“Bryant!”
“Whoa!” I fell on my pillows with an oomph with Estelle towering over me. “What was that for?”
“Don’t you know what this means?”
“Estelle, I don’t like that wicked gleam in your eyes.”
“Babe, you and I are having a P. A. R—”
“Don’t even think of finishing,” I hissed. “My parents will kill me if I throw a party.”
“They won’t find out.”
