“Yeah,” I said sourly. “But it’s gonna make me sound like a pussy. And that’s not something I want.”
“I don’t care if you sound like a pussy,” Ken said. “You and I know the truth – you’re one tough motherfucker who doesn’t take shit from anyone. Would a pussy have worked his way up through the ranks in only a few years?”
I didn’t answer him.
“Come on,” Ken said. “This is why we’re friends, remember?”
I licked my lips. “I…I regret the past,” I said. “I regret leaving my family, and sometimes I wonder if they ever think about me.”
Ken frowned. It wasn’t the reaction I’d been hoping for.
“And sometimes, I dunno – I think about trying to get in touch,” I continued. “That’s one of the reasons why I stayed in Boston, after all. I’ve been here for years – and I’m sure if they’re here, they’ve heard of Trading West.”
Ken stayed silent.
“What?” I asked. I felt irritation flaring in my brain and I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you being so quiet? You practically forced me to tell you,” I added. “And now what, you’re not going to say shit?”
“Jordan, sometimes I think the past is better left in the past,” Ken replied.
“What the fuck, why?” I got to my feet and shoved my hands in my pockets. “You’re the one who always tells me how far I’ve come, and how much work I’ve done,” I said angrily. “And now what, you’re going to stop me from talking to my family again?”
“No,” Ken said firmly. “That isn’t what I meant at all.”
“What, then?”
“Don’t be so idealistic,” Ken said. “There was a lot of hurt, and a lot of pain on both sides. And you’ve done so well for yourself. I’d hate to see you feeling like that wasn’t enough.”
As Ken’s words sank in, I felt myself slowly becoming numb. I didn’t want to admit it, but deep down, his words made a lot of sense. Of course, my family wouldn’t ever want to speak to me again, I thought as I shook my head. Why would I? I’m the West family black sheep – and I’ve been firmly ensconced in that role since before I was even legal.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“No,” Ken said. “Look – don’t get discouraged. I just want to see you focusing on the future and kicking ass, okay? I know you can do it, Jordan,” he added. “I trust you.”
“Thanks,” I repeated. “Means a lot.”
As I walked home in the summery twilight air, I knew I was going to have to face some major decisions soon, whether I liked it or not.
Chapter Two
Laci
“Ms. Wright! That’s not fair!”
I stifled the urge to laugh as I looked into the dismayed faces of my students.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I said, giving in and smiling just a bit. “But Othello is a classic piece of literature, and I don’t think that just because it’s no longer on the curriculum, we should no longer be studying it.”
“I hate Shakespeare,” one of my students muttered. “He’s so boring.”
“Yeah,” chimed in another. “And I don’t wanna do anything this weekend, Ms. Wright, it’s the last weekend before prom!”
“Well, that’s good,” I said. “That’s why I won’t be assigning the text. We’ll be watching the movie in class next Monday and Tuesday, so please get your parents to sign these permission slips.”
The class burst into applause and cheers and I laughed.
“And don’t think you’re getting off the hook for any more Shakespeare,” I said in a mock stern voice. “He’s very important to Western literature.”
My students uttered a collective groan but they didn’t say anything else.
“Now, please, open your textbooks to the section on Chekhov,” I said. “We’ll begin with his short stories and continue on to larger works.”
As my class obediently followed my orders, I brushed my hands off on my tweed skirt and got to my feet. I walked over to the whiteboard and took up a bright purple marker. “Now, who can tell me what they know about Russian literature?”
“It’s boring,” one boy called out.
“Yeah,” a girl named Mackenzye echoed. “And all the people have funny names.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I think most Russians would agree Mackenzye is a funny name, don’t you think so?”
Mackenzye blushed and I turned triumphantly to the board where I wrote out a short bullet list summarizing the life of Chekhov. Thankfully, my class quieted down and with only a little bit more prodding from myself, they began to have a lively discussion about the merits of reading Russian literature.
By the time the bell signaling the end of class rang, I was feeling confident and happy – another successful class. I’d only been teaching at West Boston High for a few months in a permanent role: after graduating from college, I’d spent almost five years substituting all over the city. Just when I’d felt dismayed that a real job would never come along, I’d been hired as an intermediate English teacher. I loved my work, and I didn’t think it made me sound cocky to admit that the kids liked me, too. Sure, sometimes I had to push hard to make any progress in my classroom, but it was so rewarding to see the same group of students getting somewhere. I might even help some of these kids get into college, I thought as I glanced over the class as they grabbed their backpacks and pushed eagerly to leave the room. That’s so exciting!
“Ms. Wright?”
Looking up, I saw Mackenzye standing there nervously with her hands twisting in front of her hips.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry I was rude in class,” Mackenzye said. She yawned. “I’m really tired. My dad had me stay up until midnight last night, studying for the SATs.”
“Try to get some more sleep,” I said. “You’re not going to do well in any kind of standardized test if you can barely stay awake.”
Mackenzye blushed and nodded. “I’ll tell my dad you said that,” she said as a mischievous grin spread over her face. “Any excuse not to study.”
“Well, I didn’t say that,” I reply drily. “But try going to bed around ten or ten-thirty, okay?”
Mackenzye nodded before rushing out of my classroom and leaving me alone. It was the end of the day – West Boston taught in long block periods – and I was exhausted. Like Mackenzye, I’d stayed up late the night before…but obviously, I hadn’t been studying. I’d made dinner for my younger sister, Jenna, then tossed and turned for hours. Even the dullest of dull reality shows couldn’t bring sleep to my brain, and I wondered what the problem was.
I packed my things together into a tote bag and slung it over my shoulder before locking up my classroom and walking to the teacher’s lounge. My friend Taylor was sitting at the table with a bundle of papers in front of her.
“I hate the end of the year,” Taylor groaned. “Why does it feel like we always have so much extra work?”
I snorted. “Because we do,” I said. “And that’s not even counting summer pay.”
Taylor wrinkled her nose. “Don’t remind me,” she said. “Are you working this summer?”
“I hope not,” I said, sitting down next to her and reaching into the communal candy bowl for a piece of chocolate. “Because last summer sucked.”
“We should’ve just taken the twelve-month pay,” Taylor muttered. “I feel like some of my kids have more money in their pockets than I do in my savings account.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s not their faults, though. They’ll get to college and start living off fast food and then realize how good they had it at home.”
Taylor giggled. “You sound so old,” she said.
“Yeah, well, teaching a bunch of lithe fifteen-year-olds will do that to you,” I said. “I feel ancient!”
“And please, you’re only twenty-seven,” Taylor replied. “Try coming in every day when you’re thirty-five with a hangover.”
Now it was my turn to giggle. “I should get going,” I said. “Jenna w
ill be home soon.”
“She’s eighteen,” Taylor said. “You know she can fend for herself, don’t you?”
I bit my lip. “I don’t like to think about it,” I said. “She’s so sheltered.”
“Well, you did keep her very sheltered,” Taylor said quietly. “Feel like company? I should be heading out soon, too.”
“Yeah, sure, why not,” I said. I got to my feet and reached for one more piece of candy before slinging the strap of my bag over my shoulder.
As Taylor and I were leaving the school’s front entrance, Taylor grabbed my elbow and stopped dead in her tracks. I gave her a weird look.
“What?” I asked. “Did you see something?”
“Nick’s over there,” Taylor said in a hushed voice. “He stood me up on Saturday night!”
I made a sympathetic face and patted her shoulder. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” I said. “Did he call?”
Before Taylor could answer, Nick walked up to us with a smug grin on his face. A fellow teacher at West Boston, I’d always found Nick likable on the surface but vaguely unsettling, like a pit-bull sleeping in front of a fire.
“Hey ladies,” Nick said. He raised an eyebrow at Taylor and crossed his arms over his chest. “How are you?”
I waited for Taylor to throw in a barb about being stood up, but she tossed her blonde hair and shook her head. “Fine,” she said. “I was actually just leaving.”
“What about walking me home?” I called, but Taylor’s slender frame was already disappearing down the stairs. As soon as she was gone, Nick turned to me.
“So,” Nick said, leaning against the wall. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“Schoolwork,” I replied. “And spending time with my sister – I’m taking her shopping for college.”
“Can you spare a night out?”
I squinted at him in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”
Nick laughed. “Yeah, why?”
“You just stood my friend up last weekend,” I said pointedly, crossing my arms over my chest. “And you’re seriously trying to pull the same shit with me?”
“Aw, Laci, it’s not like that,” Nick replied. “You know I’ve had a crush on you since you first started teaching here.”
“Yeah, and you know I don’t date guys whom my friends are interested in,” I said tartly.
“You don’t date anyone,” Nick pointed out. “What, are you a lesbian or something?”
I rolled my eyes. “None of your business,” I said primly. Without waiting for a reply, I pushed past Nick and walked out into the bright afternoon. The morning rain and clouds had given way to brilliant sunshine, and I closed my eyes as I felt warm rays soaking into my hair. The walk from West Boston High to the two-bedroom apartment I shared with Jenna wasn’t long and while normally I found myself in a hurry to get home, I savored every moment of time between the school and the front door of the building.
When I let myself inside, Jenna was sitting at the kitchen table with a book. There was an open carton of milk beside her, and I rolled my eyes.
“Please tell me you at least thought about using a glass,” I said as I reached for the carton and wiped off the lid with a paper towel before putting it back in the fridge.
“Mmn,” Jenna muttered without looking up.
“Jenna?”
My sister grunted again and I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Please look at me when I’m talking to you,” I said. “Don’t be rude.”
Jenna sighed, but obediently raised her head and met my gaze. Despite the nine-year age gap between us, we looked more like twins than sisters. We shared the same deep blue eyes, shiny brown hair, and angular limbs.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”
Jenna sighed. “You wouldn’t understand,” she said.
I narrowed my eyes as I sat down next to her and took the paperback novel from her hands. “Try me.”
Jenna pursed her lips. “I’m jealous of my friends,” she said. “I wish I could live in the dorms, you know, when I start school in the fall.”
I sighed. “And you know I want that, too,” I said. “But we can’t afford it right now – you need to get a part-time job and stay here to help me.”
“But if I move out, you could get a smaller apartment,” Jenna said. “Isn’t that what you want? It would be so much easier,” she said. Hope was creeping into her voice and I felt a pang of guilt as I shook my head.
“It doesn’t work like that,” I said. “I’m really sorry, Jenna.”
“I’m eighteen, you can’t just keep me here,” Jenna said defiantly. She tossed her head. “My whole life, you’ve treated me like I’m some little kid! But I’m an adult now!”
“Well, then you need to act like one,” I said. “If you’re serious about this, draw up a budget. You’d need to figure out how much money you need for rent and food and bills, and then make sure you have enough where you’re not borrowing all the time.”
“I can do that,” Jenna said eagerly.
“And you’re not going to find anything close to the school – at least not anything in a good area – for less than twelve-hundred a month,” I continued. “Plus, you’ll need at least that much for the security deposit, maybe even twice that.”
Jenna’s eyes grew wide but she didn’t reply.
“And then you usually have to pay a deposit when you create an account with the power company and the gas company, especially if you don’t have any credit, so figure in a few hundred for those, too.”
Jenna bit her lip.
“Right now, we pay sixteen-hundred for this place,” I said. “And if we both move into smaller apartments, we’ll both be spending a lot more money. Doesn’t it seem better for you to stay here?”
Jenna didn’t answer, but I knew I’d gotten my point across.
“I know it sucks, and I know you feel like you’re going to miss out on things,” I said. “But make friends with other students who commute, and plan things off-campus. That’s really the best way to handle it.”
Jenna frowned. “What did you do, you know, when you were in college?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t have a lot of time for fun stuff,” I said honestly. “I was taking care of you whenever I wasn’t working or in class, but I did make some friends.”
A look of guilt came over Jenna’s face and she flushed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just frustrated, that’s all.”
“I know,” I said. “And someday, yeah, you’re totally going to live on your own, or with roommates, or whatever. But not right now – not until you’ve at least gotten a semester or two under your belt.”
“And then what about you? What are you going to do when I move out?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said. “But I’ll figure it out.”
“How was school?”
“Long,” I said. I got to my feet and took off my black leather pumps, setting them carefully on the shoe rack by the front door before pushing my feet into slippers. “And I’m exhausted.”
“Can we get cheeseburgers for dinner?”
I laughed. “I thought you told me you wanted to learn how to cook?”
Jenna flushed, but after a few moments she began to laugh. “Well, I have to like, you know…see how a cheeseburger is assembled before I begin thinking about learning how to cook one,” she said. “So, how about it? Please?”
I rolled my eyes. “Your debate professors are going to love you,” I said drily. “And yeah, sure. Why not. They do sound good, after all. I was planning on baking some roast chicken, but we can always eat that tomorrow.”
“We should eat more salad,” Jenna said. She looked down at her stomach and pinched herself through her shirt. “I don’t want to gain the freshman fifteen.”
I burst out laughing and Jenna gave me a hurt look.
“What?” She asked, sounding offended. “It’s true – I know it happens.”
“
For one thing, you’re a twig,” I said, playfully reaching out and touching my sister’s narrow waist. “And for another, Miss Cheeseburger, what about dinner tonight? Salad instead?”
Jenna wrinkled her nose. “No way,” she said. “I’m PMS-ing like crazy. I really need some red meat.”
“You’re impossible,” I told her as I got up from the table. “I’m going to change and lie down. Wake me up in a couple of hours, okay?”
Jenna nodded. She picked her book up and lazily flipped through the pages. I left the kitchen and walked down the hall to my room where I closed the door behind me and after a moment, locked the knob. I peeled off my wrap dress, then took off my jewelry and flopped down on the bed, closing my eyes. Even though I only worked eight-hour days, I still felt exhausted after getting home. I loved teaching, but being an extrovert had never come naturally to me and I always loved taking time to recharge before dinner.
Before I knew it, I was waking up to the sound of Jenna knocking on the door.
“Laci,” she called loudly. “Did you fall asleep? I’m starving, get up so we can eat dinner!”
I groaned and pulled the pillow over my face. I couldn’t believe that I’d just passed out like that, but I had to admit that I did feel much better.
“Yeah,” I called back. “I’ll be right there!”
The Secret: A billionaire romance Page 2
