Page 84 of Pierced

“So not long after that picture of you sitting on the lion?”

“Yes, that was the last time she ever went on location with him for work.”

“Maybe I’m just not seeing the whole picture here, but… doesn’t sound very romantic.”

“Romance?” I chuckle. “My mother doesn’t even know the meaning of the word. She’s not a Wuthering Heights kind of woman. More of a Scarlet Letter kinda woman.”

“Hmmm. And you?”

I think about this for a moment. “I’m more of a… Tell-Tale Heart kinda woman.”

“I can see that.”

“Maybe a little Frankenstein too.”

“Oh.”

“With some Dracula thrown in.”

He laughs. “Come on.”

“For real. I like horror. My mother was appalled when I was young because I’d sneak books from the library.”

“Like what?”

“You know. Pet Sematary. Carrie. Shit like that.”

“She thinks Stephen King is a hack?”

“Pretty much. But in her defense, she’s just one of those… serious people. Ya know? Not very experimental.”

“Except for that time she banged a lion-tamer on a whim at the circus?”

I guffaw. “Yup. I guess she learned her lesson, right?”

Pierce doesn’t laugh. Just kinda mulls that last outburst over for several seconds. Then he looks at me and says, “Is that what she learned? That you were punishment for behavior outside the norm?”

“I… she… no,” I stammer.

Silence. Then, a few moments later he says, “OK. So then what? You left her house and—”

“No, I grew up in a school.”

He furrows his brow. “Boarding school?”

“Yeah, but she was there. She was the librarian. We lived in an apartment above the library.”

“Huh,” he says. “And then you left for college. I know you went to the University of Colorado. I remember that from your résumé.”

“You… remember my résumé?”

“Of course,” he says. “You were applying to be my number one. I memorized that thing. And I thought it was weird that you left your high school off, but I just assumed it was a regular high school, not worth mentioning. But that’s not true, is it?”

I shake my head. Say, “No,” very quietly.

“What was it called?”

“Philadelphia Friends School,” I whisper.