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If Brittney wasn’t waiting for me, and I didn’t have books to return, I would cuddle up in the bed right now. The newfound comfort calling out to me like a siren.
No, I can’t. I have shit to do. While gathering my books, my eyes land on my computer, and I decide to try to Skype my mom real quick before I leave.
Maybe she’ll finally answer one of my phone calls. I’ve been trying to Skype with her since I arrived, but she never answers, and I’m getting really tired of putting effort into it, but who else do I have to call? No one, that’s who.
Flipping the laptop open, I pull up Skype and click on my mom’s name. The weird ringtone that sounds like an alien invasion is rolling in fills the room. After three rings, the sound suddenly breaks off, and my mom’s face fills the screen.
“Mom?” The word comes out like a question. That’s how surprised I am that she actually picked up.
“Aspen, honey. How have you been?” My mother’s face is painted on perfectly, like a rare canvas, and her blond hair is styled like always.
She looks the same even though I know it’s fake.
“Terrible,” I admit, not sparing her my truth. “This place is the worst. I hate everything about this school.” I try not to come off whiny, but it’s so hard. She has no idea what I’m going through here.
“You’re overexaggerating.” She rolls her eyes at me.
“No, I’m understating it. This is a nightmare. Everyone, and I mean everyone, hates me. I can’t walk around without people bumping into me on purpose, shoving me into walls, and tossing their breakfast on me. On top of it, I have no place to wash my clothes, and Quinton Rossi is here. Living here, tormenting me.”
“He can’t touch you,” she says, examining her fingernails.
“He can, and he has.”
“You don’t look hurt,” she points out, downplaying everything I say.
“He choked me out in gym class the other day.” For a fraction of a second, my mom’s eyes widen, and worry flickers through them.
“He probably didn’t mean to.” She recovers quickly. “Besides, that’s better than being dead, don’t you think?”
“Anything is better than being dead, but at this point, I don’t think it’s safe or even smart for me to stay here.” I don’t even want to try to explain to her what I think might happen next.
Quinton has no boundaries—he’s the jaguar, and this is his jungle. I don’t and never will stand a chance against him.
Uncertainty pools in my mother’s blue eyes, eyes I remember looking up to as a little girl. Over the years, my relationship with her has become more and more strained. It only got worse when we lost everything, and when Dad went to prison, it became nonexistent.
“Mom, you have to believe me. I’m trying. I’m really, really trying. I’ve been staying out of everyone’s way, keeping my head down, but they’re all out to get me. Even the teachers hate me.”
My mom’s uncertainty turns into fear. Seeing her like this makes my stomach twist and knot in a different kind of way. A way that tells me I’m in more danger than I ever thought.
“Listen to me, Aspen. Out here, you’re as good as dead. People are after your father, people who want him, and by extension, us, dead. So, while I understand people might be shitty there, anything is better than being out here. I promise you that.”
All I can do is shake my head. She has no idea what I’m experiencing, the fear I feel every night when I close my eyes, and the second that I wake. Some nights, I wonder if this will be the last time I close my eyes.
“I really hate it here.” I play with the idea of telling her what happened last night, what Q did to me, but the fact of the matter is, he could’ve done much worse.
In our world, women are often treated less than men. Many daughters get married off or sold to the highest bidder as soon as they turn eighteen. A fate that I luckily escaped.
Her pink lips press into a thin line. “It’s time to grow up. We all have to do things we hate sometimes. Look at your father; he went to prison, sacrificed it all for us.”
I roll my eyes. “Everything he did was his own fault.”
“You’re safe there.”
“Even with the enemy’s son hot on my heels? He hates me, and so does everyone else. I’m afraid that one night something bad will happen.” I hate saying the words out loud, but it’s the truth, and it makes me wonder, am I really safer here than out there?
“The school has strict rules, one that even the Rossis can’t break. No one dies. He can’t touch you. Please just trust me. There is no safer place than that school.”
