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My mom steps back, and Samuel's already standing behind me, holding the front door open as he waits for me. I give my mom a menacing glare. What kind of a terrible person does she have to be to constantly put the blame on me?
I walk out, lowering my head to the ground as I follow Samuel to his black Rover. He unlocks the door, and it makes an expensive click as the locks disengage. I open the door, a whiff of clean leather invading my senses as I slide into the seat, sitting as close to the door as I can. I press my elbow against the window, my chin settling into my palm as I stare outside. I don't want the small talk. I don't want to talk to him at all, actually.
He settles into his seat, letting out a breath that makes its way to me. Mint and coffee. He says nothing as he starts the car and pulls out of the driveway.
Once we hit the main road, a fog covers the area. It's thicker than it was yesterday. So dense I can barely see mere feet in front of me. I watch the thickness cover the car, trapping us in a dim cloud.
"You shouldn't be so hard on your mother."
I press my chin into my hand even harder. He has no right.No fucking right.
"You don't know her," I mumble.
He lets out a puff of air. Like he's laughing or something.What the hell is funny?
"On the contrary. I've known her for about a year now. I think I know her pretty well, despite what you might believe."
This time my arm drops, and I swing my eyes to his. "Youdon'tknow her."
His smile drops, and he lifts his eyebrows as he glances at me. "I know that your disrespect toward her is uncalled for. I know that you have no sense of authority. I know that while you're living under my roof, you're going to treat me, your mother, my son, and my house with respect. No more smoking in my house. No more being rude to your mother. She's been through enough."
My hand goes to the door handle. Just as I'm about to open the door of the moving car, Samuel slaps on the lock button. "You do not want to get lost in these woods, Vera. That's the very last place you want to wander off to."
"Anywhere would be better than here," I whisper. Because it's true.She's been through enough?Fuck him and his opinions. He doesn't know anything about our past. He doesn't know anything about anything. He found a young woman he can take advantage of, and that's exactly what he's chosen to do. He doesn't know me.
He doesn't know me.
The fog remains thick as we travel through town. Samuel drives down the roads with ease, no sense of hesitation in his twists and turns as the roads curve and curl around trees. I can't see into the forest, only the tops of the pine trees peeking through the fog.
Soon enough, the fog clears slightly as a brick building comes into view. Samuel turns left into the parking lot, and my lips slouch into a frown at the sight in front of me. The Catholic school is large, tall and wide with old, gray bricks expanding the entire perimeter. The top peaks of the building are pointed. All of them small with one of the main points being larger, with a huge, oxidized metal cross sitting on top. To the left sits an oversized bronzed bell, weathered from however many years this atrocity has been standing.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I mumble.
"The school does not tolerate cursing of any kind. I suggest you swallow down your words before you enter."
My nostrils flare as I glare at him. "Maybe it'll get me expelled, and I can go back home. Thank you for that insight."
He smirks. "They don't expel here, Vera. They punish. Maybe it'll be good for you."
Punish?
Punish how?
"Would you like me to walk you into school? Help you find your way to the office?" he asks as he parks in front of the entrance.
I wrap my fingers around the straps of my bag, wishing I could run out of this town. But Samuel's words stuck to me, which I know is what he hoped for.
That's the very last place you want to wander off to.
I open the door, stepping out without looking at him. "I think I can manage on my own."
I can feel his smile on my back. "See you at dinner, Vera. Have a good day at school."
I slam the door shut. No kids lingering outside. No one smoking at the end of the parking lot. No groups of friends hanging out in their cars.
What kind of a weird-ass school is this?
I walk up the steps, the brick worn and cracked. There's a railing in the middle, the metal paint chipped. I know if I glided my hands across it, the chips of paint would shred across my palms.
