My dark gaze landed on a girl standing at the edge of the cafeteria, holding a rolled brown bag and looking quite out of place. She stared right at me, and I stared back, unabashed. I wasn’t one to back down, ever. If there was someone who didn’t know when to stop, it was me. I blamed my father’s genetics.
We were all a little…off our rocker, let’s just say.
Whereas some girls might blush and look away, she didn’t. She lifted her head high when our eyes met, as if mentally preparing herself before walking through the rows of tables to reach mine. She did not choose a chair next to me, or even across from me; she chose the one furthest from me, at the opposite end of the table.
“Is anyone sitting here?” she asked, cocking her head.
All I did was shake my head, watching as she pulled out a chair and sat down. She tried to act tough, and maybe she was. She was obviously new here, not knowing anyone else to sit by. I had heard the rumor that Midpark High had its first transfer student in a while, but I didn’t pay much heed to it because I didn’t care.
Suddenly though, I was a bit curious.
The girl keeping to herself at the end of the table had long, wavy black hair, its tendrils tumbling over her shoulders and over her chest. She wore an outfit most people wouldn’t be caught dead in here, and her eyes were almost as dark as mine. High cheekbones, a small button nose…she was pretty, probably one of the prettiest girls in Midpark.
Looks didn’t much matter, though. It’s what was on the inside that counted.
“So you’re the new girl everyone is talking about?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
She paused, midway in unrolling her bagged lunch, tossing those black eyes to me. Some people didn’t like dark eyes, but I did. When they were so dark you weren’t sure what the other person was thinking, when you couldn’t tell whether their eyes were dilated in desire or fear—those eyes were my favorite. Black, soulless, a void of emotion.
“I guess so,” she muttered, giving me the side-eye as she glanced at my hands.
“How do you like Midpark?” It was almost funny how normal I sounded. I could put on a mask like the best of them. That was something the rich were all too good at, not just me. When you had money, it became easier to hide the wrongs you committed.
“Oh, it’s great. I love feeling like an outsider and coming into the year half-done,” she rattled off.
“At least you’re new. I’m an outsider, and I’ve been here since kindergarten.”
She finished unrolling her bag, sticking one hand inside as she gave me an unimpressed look. It wasn’t the eager curiosity some girls had, nor the utter disdain the others wore as they looked down on me. She radiated defiance, feistiness.
She might make this last stretch at Midpark fun.
“Well, you ooze friendliness, so I have no idea why that is,” she deadpanned, lifting a single eyebrow as she pulled out…crackers.
This girl was really going to eat crackers.
I let out a smile—a rare, elusive creature for me—and said, “I’m Vaughn.”
“Jaz,” she muttered, sounding unhappy as she shared her name, as if she was giving me the key to her heart. She looked like she was putting up a front, trying to act tough…or maybe that was simply because, compared to what I’d seen and had to deal with, no one around here was really tough.
True toughness was something you were molded into. These other kids might think they could stand strong when the going got tough, but they couldn’t. One drop of blood and most of them would run for the hills, fearing for their lives.
Jaz. I liked its shortness. Short and sweet and to the point.
She tore her eyes away from me, surveying the cafeteria. “This is going to be a long semester,” she muttered, frowning to herself. If she was a self-proclaimed outcast, she’d stay that way. I didn’t blame her for not wanting to integrate herself into anyone’s group. People around here were just annoying.
“Time tends to fly around here,” I said, causing her eyes to snap back at me.
“Not for me,” she said. “Never for me.”
I grinned, though the grin fell off my face the moment she no longer looked at me. All throughout lunch, I watched her, trying to figure her out. I liked to think I could read people pretty well, that I noticed little ticks and cracks in masks most people wouldn’t, but for whatever reason, I could not decipher her.
She was, for all intents and purposes, an unknown.
Something inside me hardened, and I stuck my spork in a piece of meat, knowing I’d have to get to the bottom of her. I didn’t like unknowns.
Lunch was over far too soon, and we parted ways. I didn’t see her at all the rest of the day, our schedules too different. All day I kept repeating her name to myself: Jaz. I kept picturing the way she’d looked at me, how she kept herself closed off from everyone else. I would get to the bottom of her sooner or later.
I might’ve blinked, and the rest of the day was over. When school let out, I grabbed everything I had to from my locker and walked outside. Many of the kids had their own cars, and those that didn’t were either picked up by a parent in a fancy vehicle or by drivers. I had a driver who always pulled up to the front door and blocked the rest of the cars behind him, the car sleek and black.
I got in the back, slamming the door behind me. The windows were tinted, allowing me to gaze outside in privacy, no one looking at me. It was as the car was put into gear and slowly pulled away that I saw Jaz exiting the glass doors of the school, looking lost as she glanced all around.
Bundled up in a coat, the wind whipping at her hair, she looked even better than I remembered her being at lunch. A bit wild, a bit frightened. A part of me rather liked seeing the expression on her face, even though I wasn’t able to stare at her for long.
Once we were on the road, I settled in the seat. I didn’t bother buckling my seatbelt. Our estate stood on the far outer reaches of Midpark, where the mansions had acres and acres of land surrounding them on all sides. Long, winding driveways, gates and guards that kept most people away. My family’s estate had cameras everywhere, along with multiple guards who walked the property at all hours of the day and night.
When you had an illegal business, you tended to be careful, and when that illegal business was sometimes had in your own basement, you were extra careful.
We pulled into the drive, slowing to a stop as the guard at the gate checked credentials. No one could just walk or drive onto our property. We probably had the biggest estate in Midpark, and that was because we had the most money. And the biggest family.
My father was older than the dads of other students at Midpark. He had quite a few wives, a lot of girlfriends, and more mistresses than that. The business had stayed in the family for generations, and he’d had this mansion and all of its fancy—ahem, not-so-legal parts—built. He ensured the family legacy would continue.
Needless to say, my family was huge. A lot of brothers, some full-blooded and others merely half since some of us didn’t share mothers. Cousins aplenty. Sisters who were either inducted into the family business or who were thrown out if they refused. But even then, my father always kept an eye on them.
The gate was slow to open, and we drove through. The driver let me out near the front door, needing to go around back to park it.
Jaz.
As I entered the house, I couldn’t get my mind off her. Was there more to her than met the eye? Was there something more to her than the lonely transfer student who put up walls to keep everyone out, or was that it?
I would find out what she had hidden in the depths of her soul. It wasn’t like I had much else to do around here except wait to graduate. Jaz seemed as good of an obsession as any. Plucking her petals off one by one until she was laid bare. Was it wrong to be excited?
Because I was. Almost unreasonably so.
Chapter Five – Jaz
One day down. The rest should be easy compared to this horrible day—the freaking minutes seemed to d
rag on and on for hours, the hours lasting days. I knew that didn’t make sense, but time literally crawled today.
And, what was worse, I had so much homework to do, so much to catch up on. Cue the typical teenage eye-rolling.
I exited the school, shivering once the cool winter air hit me. Other Midpark students lingered around the door, waiting for their rides, while others headed straight into the parking lot to their expensive cars.
I didn’t envy them because of their money. I envied them because of their superior, carefree attitude. They probably didn’t have a care in the world. They didn’t know what it was like to drop everything and move, to change their number and delete all of their social media accounts because they were worried about their mom.
When Mom had come into my room and told me what to do, that we were moving the very next week and that I needed to leave everything behind, I was scared. Of course I was. I couldn’t help but feel like there was something she wasn’t telling me, almost like we were on the run.
Which was ridiculous, because my mom was a good person. She didn’t have a criminal bone in her body, so I had no idea what we could possibly be on the run from, but still. Mom was too tight-lipped about it to be of any help.
I searched for my mom’s van; I didn’t assume Ollie was picking me up again. I knew that him dropping me off this morning was probably all I’d get from him, which was more than okay. We lived in his freaking house and my mom worked for him. I didn’t need him to drive me to school, anyways. In fact, after hearing what I did from Bobbi, I’d rather be seen in my mom’s crusty old van than Ollie’s car anyway.
“Hey, you!” A shrill voice behind me called out, but I assumed they were talking to someone else, and I stepped out, still looking for my mom’s van when I felt a hand curl around my arm and spin me around.
A girl wearing the thinnest jacket ever stood before me in heeled boots. Her blonde hair was curled, its tendrils pinned to the back of her head in an up-do that made me wonder if she was going to the country club after school.
Rich people went to country clubs, right? It sounded like something they’d do.
Her eyes were a light amber, narrowed as she studied me, slow to release my arm. Her nails had acrylic on them, a wintry design on their long, pointed lengths. Small golden hoops sat in her ears, and she wore a pensive expression. Two dark-haired girls stood behind her; they were not nearly as studious of me as she was, though.
“Can I…help you?” I nearly winced at myself. I sounded like a retail worker, someone working at Starbucks, ready to bend myself backward to make the customer happy. Whoever this girl was, she didn’t exactly look happy—and beside that, pleasing anyone was not what I cared about.
Except my mom. She was the only person I’d do anything for.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you all day,” the blonde girl spoke, slow to cross her arms and tap her long nails against her jacket sleeves.
“Uh, why?” As far as I was concerned, I had nothing to say to this chick. Nothing but goodbye.
“Jazmine Smith,” she said, somehow knowing my name even though I never told her. “I just wanted to know if you plan on changing your name or not.”
If ever there was a dumbstruck stupid look, I wore it. “Why?” What I should’ve instead asked was how she knew my name, but the answer was probably simple enough. I was the mainstay of gossip today, and I’d probably remain the center of it all for a while, at least until my newness died down.
And it would.
I hoped.
“I saw you this morning getting out of Oliver Fitzpatrick’s car,” she explained. “So tell me, Jazmine, are you his replacement daughter, or is he going to put a ring on it when you turn eighteen? The men around here like them young, from what I hear.” Behind her, her friends giggled.
Her words shocked me into silence, and it wasn’t often that someone could do that to me. Usually I could have a comeback ready in seconds, but this? This was…there were no words. Literally no words at all.
“Either way, I’d be careful if I were you,” she warned. “People close to Oliver Fitzpatrick tend to disappear. Wouldn’t want that pretty face of yours to be next, would we?” She tilted her head, radiating bitch, and then walked away, her heeled boots clicking on the pavement. Her friends trailed after her, leaving me flabbergasted.
What in the hell…
I heard a familiar honk, and I spotted my mom’s old van near the sidewalk, sticking out like a sore thumb. Before I could let myself linger on what that girl had said, I hurried to the car, hopping in the front seat and buckling my seatbelt all before I even glanced at my mom.
Mom had to stop the van to let some kids cross in front of her, and she glanced to me, giving me a supportive smile. “How was your first day at school, honey? Make any new friends? No new boyfriends, I hope.”
Boyfriends, as if boys just lined the streets to get to me. I knew that’s what parents always said to their kids, but that wasn’t the case. My mom didn’t want me dating, ever. It was an annoying rule that I sometimes followed, sometimes didn’t.
“School was fine,” I told her, leaving it at that. I was silent as Mom pulled the car to the road and turned left. That girl, I had no idea who she was, but somehow I had the feeling I’d be seeing a lot more of her in the future. She seemed to be a know-it-all snob, which was great, because I’d thought things were going too smoothly before I’d met her.
“That’s great,” Mom said, too oblivious to see past my blatant lie.
Even though I knew I shouldn’t, my mind wandered back to what that girl had said, and then I remembered what Bobbi had told me in choir. Curiosity would kill me one of these days, but it would not be today. Today I’d settle for asking, “Do you know what happened to Ollie’s family before?” It sounded like he’d had two families that just…poof, went missing.
Shit like that didn’t happen, unless someone was trying to cover something up.
“No, I didn’t ask him,” Mom said, tossing me a quick look.
This was so not a conversation we could have in the house, at least not while Ollie was home. He kept such weird hours. “I heard he was Celeste Chambers’s stepdad.”
“Celeste Chambers,” my mom repeated, her blonde brows furrowing. “That was the girl that was kidnapped a few years ago, I think. Shit. And they never caught her kidnapper either, though from what I remember, everyone thought it was her biological father—that happened right at the middle school—”
I knew what she was thinking, because I was thinking it too: this place wasn’t safe.
“Whatever happened to her?” I asked.
“I…I don’t know. The news went quiet on her after she got back.” Her hands tightened on the wheel. “She was Ollie’s stepdaughter? He mentioned his sons before in passing, but not a stepdaughter.”
“You didn’t check him out before accepting the job?” I was aghast. You’d think she would have, especially since we’d both be living in his house for the foreseeable future.
“Of course I did, but I didn’t look into his family life. He’s a great lawyer with nothing but good reviews—”
Oh, dear God. My mom’s research involved reading the reviews people had written about his job. That was not something you relied on reviews for. No Yelp search should ever be included when you were literally putting your life in someone else’s hands.
Reviews. Fucking reviews. I couldn’t get over it.
“Mom,” I spoke blatantly, “he could be a serial killer who kills his family or something!”
“Oh, shush. You will not bad-mouth Ollie, and I certainly hope that anytime someone brings up rumors involving him and his old family you will defend him.”
“He’s a lawyer. He can defend himself.” And he also knew ways around the law, knowing the law inside and out to do what he did…
My mom’s knuckles on the wheel practically turned white. “Drop it, Jaz. I know you’re stubborn, but now is not the time to start picking. Leave it alone.
The man lost his family—I’m sure it hurts him to think about it.”
So was Celeste dead? Was his second wife dead too? Wouldn’t that have been something on the news? Girl escapes kidnapper only to end up dead a year later or something? It didn’t make sense to me, but then again, none of this did, now that I was actually thinking about it.
“I feel like you’re not worrying enough,” I whispered, breaking the silence of the car as my mom pulled into Ollie’s driveway. We rolled to a stop near Frank, the daytime guard, and he sent us a wave before opening the gate.
“And I feel like you worry too much. Just…just drop it, honey. Let it be. We could have a good thing here, but only if you let it.”
A good thing. I mean, to me, we had a good thing before, but all of that meant nothing when I got off the bus one day and my mom told me we were leaving and she was becoming a live-in maid.
A maid. My mom. If you’d spent any extended periods of time with my mom, you’d know how ridiculous it was.
I said nothing as I got out of the car and headed into the house that was more like a mansion than a home. Too big, too spacious. Too much unused and empty space, even if there was ample furniture and decorations.
This place would never feel like a home to me. It would never be my home. I’d left my home in the dust, and it felt like an eternity since then. My life was changing, that much I knew, but now…now it felt like it was changing too much, too fast. I needed to press the brakes, to slow it down. Anything.
Ollie wasn’t home yet, and I ignored my mom as I headed upstairs to the small room I’d claimed as my own. I’d been given a choice as to what room to claim, because there were practically a dozen or so bedrooms, but I’d chosen the smallest, the one most reminiscent to the one I’d left.
It was still bigger, still fancier, but it was all I could do.
I’d mostly stuck to my room so far, but now I had the strangest of urges—I wanted to snoop. I wanted to get to the bottom of it, be like Nancy Drew and discover the truth. If my mom and I weren’t safe in this house, wasn’t that kind of important to know? Shouldn’t that mean we should skedaddle our asses out of here?
Feisty: A High School Bully Romance (Midpark High Book 1) Page 3
