5. Cin
Cin
I fell asleep late last night, thinking about the group chat amongst the school boys weighing in on me. I shouldn’t worry about it. Eighteen weeks. I can handle these fancy rich kids. Especially since I am one, though, no one here knows that.
Zach is one proud son-of-a-bitch, even though he has nothing to be proud of. His father has a nasty gambling habit, and he isn’t very good at it. They could hardly make their house payments before Malcolm found my mother.
Who was none too happy about her newest orders, but the federal bureau of investigation doesn’t really care about her feelings. They want the bastards who run the trafficking ring and gambling dens caught. So my mother is the bait.
She’s good at it, I have to admit. I’ve grown up watching my mother case after case. Eventually I pieced together what the FBI didn’t want me to know, and what my mother couldn’t confirm. So naturally it’s become a game.
Mom gets a job, I find out why. Then we have… subtle conversations that won’t end up with her fired from the job she loves, yet keeps me in the loop. Being a single mother is hard for her, but I love her with everything I have.
She’s my best friend, it’s been the two of us for so long that I forgot how to navigate sharing space with “family.” So it wasn’t too hard for mom to convince me to come here for the rest of my senior year.
Effectively leaving me out of the crosshairs, and giving me the space to get my diploma. I only hope this case closes sooner rather than later.
My phone rings and I snatch it from the bed smiling down at the picture of my mom being goofy. Her light brown hair flowing around her shoulders, lips glistening with fresh gloss, eyes squinted against the sun’s rays.
Then me beside her, with my dark brown hair just a shade lighter than black, deep brown eyes glowing yellow in the sun, laughing at her. It’s one of my favorite pictures, taken on the drive to Malcolm’s house after I begged her to detour and spend a few days at the beach.
Deep blue ocean waves capped in white are behind us, I could close my eyes and smell it. Feel the wind whipping through our hair. The salt of the ocean clinging to every strand.
“Hi, Mama,” I answer.
“How’s the room? The school? Have you met anyone yet?” Her typical bombard of questions makes me laugh.
“It’s great, no roommate,” I let that sit in the air for a minute, but she doesn’t say anything. “The school is… old, and I’ve met a few people.”
“Any boys?”
I roll my eyes, as if she can see me through the phone, “a few, but none worth mentioning.”
Hitting the speaker button so I can finish getting ready, I set the phone down on my desk. Which I’ve converted into my make up counter. Looking over the syllabus for my classes, everything seems too easy.
I’ve already done the first three assignments for every class, and I’m fairly confident that I can pass any quizzes or tests on the subjects.
“Any girls?” I can imagine her wiggling eyebrows now.
“No, mom. I haven’t been here long enough to enjoy much eye candy.” Gemma’s kind pixie-like features pop up in my head. She’s been kind to me, and she’s beautiful. I’d have to be blind not to notice.
“Muffin, I just want you to live a little,” she sighs and continues, “I know this move was… unexpected.”
“I’ve told you a million times, it’s okay, I understand.”
Her deep sigh through the speakers tells me I need to change the subject, so I tell her I’ll call her after my classes, before dinner. Everything I ordered should be here today anyway, so I will probably be eating dinner in my room.
“I love you,” she says, hanging up the phone after I return her love.
Checking the mirror one last time, I nod to my reflection and stand. Striding to the door, I throw my backpack over my shoulder and unlock the bolt I placed there last night. If there’s one thing my mother taught me, it’s to always be prepared.
Other girls are milling about the hall, some still in robes with hair immaculately done. More ready for the day and heading to the elevator. I spot Gemma’s blonde hair, not a strand out of place.
Before she steps into the elevator with a few other girls she turns, spots me, and gives me a wave. Stepping onto the silver cage, I give her a half smile and ignore the curious looks tossed my way.
“Ready for your first day?” She asks, way too chipper for my morning ears.
I give her a noncommittal shrug and turn toward the doors. The carriage feels tense, all the different eyes on me make me want to squirm in my skin, but I won’t. Lest it be interpreted differently.
We file out when the doors slide open, some split off in pairs, others in larger groups. Gemma starts walking with a red headed girl who’s got fake tattoos on her fingers. They link their hands together and Gemma snuggles into her shoulder.
Hmm, I thought she was with Toby, but I may have jumped to conclusions.
The redhead places a quick kiss on Gemma’s forehead and walks off toward the cafe I found yesterday. The path is clear, as if it was swept and scraped just this morning while we got ready.
Not a loose pebble in sight, no gum, not even bird shit, just stark white cement against the shrubs.
Boys litter the walk, standing with their hands in their pockets, or watching the girls walk by with curious eyes.
Heading toward the courtyard to the path that will take me to the academic building, I see more groups, everyone mingling and greeting each other from their break. People flow and break apart, heading for various buildings.
I decided to skip breakfast this morning, nervous after dreaming that I would be late to every class. My brain is panicked to get there early. I hear gasps and whispers as I turn through the immaculately cut trees.
There, leaning against the double doors of the academic building stands Talon. Still obnoxiously handsome, and dressed in dark jeans and a Ravard Prep swim shirt. He opens his arms wide, showcasing what everyone is gasping for.
A banner has been thrown up above the doors with texts that are clearly from the group chat about me. Blue and green bubbles about my size, background, whatever they want to bet on.
I don’t bother reading them, it’s not worth my time. I can imagine what they say, people aren’t very imaginative when it comes to what they deem is an insult. Walking past him with my head held high I stop at the top stair, turn to face him and blow him a kiss.
My gloss sticks to my fingers, but it was so fucking worth it to see his snide smile drop, even if it was only a millisecond. There and gone.
I watch as his arms fall and his fists clench, he wants to touch me. To pull me from where I have the door open and stop me, but he won’t. Not after I pushed him yesterday.
So I step into the building where a few students are lingering in the hall, and the classroom doors are open and ready to receive a new semester of students.
I memorized my schedule, so I find my first class easily. The desks all look like pairs, which makes sense for chemistry.
Approaching the closest desk I bend down a little, so I don’t startle the person in the seat next to the empty one.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” I ask, willing them to tilt their head up so I can see them. Their brown hair shifts as they look up, and I pause, “wait.”
I look back at the door in confusion, because there’s no way Cody is here.
“Hello to you too, Cinny-Mae.”
“What the fuck?” I whisper as he smiles and stands.
“The fuck, indeed.” He laughs and I drop my bags on the table with a thunk and wrap my arms around him. Practically jumping up his torso, I laugh with him.
Cody’s arms cage me in, as he leans back and observes my tame outfit.
We both start firing questions and pause, then start again. I giggle and squeeze him.
“I guess the boyfriend bet is a yes,” I hear someone mumble. Turning my head, I spot a few new people entering the classroom. We split apart, but Cody’s hand stays planted on my lower back.
Out of the corner of my eye I can see him leaning down scowling at his phone just as Talon enters the room. Unlike me, Cody seems uncaring that he’s here.
“That banner…” he says, and I whip my head to him, placing one finger on his lips to stop him.
“Good morning, students,” a woman dressed in a tight fitting black dress storms into the room, “take your seats.”
It’s not a request. I did a little research on Mrs. Lynx, to make sure I knew how to approach her. You can’t win a war without research, and my studies were as serious as a war. I have to score the highest in class, I need to prove that I can accomplish everything on my own.
Cody and I eye each other, brows lifting in silent conversation. There’s no doubt about my excitement that he’s here, but does my mom know? She’s not his biggest fan, and I thought he was in Japan or something.
“How the hell are you here?” I whisper as the teacher introduces herself and starts her explanation on what she expects in her class.
He smiles, his pouty lips pulling tight over his pearly teeth, making his lip rings stand out. His gray-blue eyes hold mine and he rubs a thumb up and down my arm.
“I’ve missed you Cinny-Mae.”
The feelings that course through my body make my skin pebble, or maybe it’s from the way he’s touching me. Memories surface and I bite my lip.
His lips moving over mine, my first kiss, one I can never forget shortly after my sixteenth birthday. Cody was eighteen, which is one reason why Mama never really liked him. It’s wild seeing him here, when I thought I’d never see him again.
“I moved here after we came back from China, I’ve been here for about a year,” he says, still dragging his thumb over my arm. China. I knew that his parents were taking him abroad, I just couldn’t remember where, or for how long.
“Why didn’t you call?” I hate the question as soon as it leaves my lips.
Impossibly his smile gets brighter, and he winks just as the teacher zeroes in on us. “Ah, Miss Morgan,” she clips, “nice to see you settling in, however, I suggest you flirt later, outside of my class.”
I slap Cody’s hand away and straighten, “I apologize, Mrs. Lynx.”
She continues on, as if I’m a blip on her radar, but I carefully watch her to make sure I’m not a permanent fixture there the rest of class. When she releases us, I promise Cody I’ll meet him in the hall.
He smiles, eyes full of excitement.
“Mrs. Lynx?” I ask while approaching her desk.
“Miss Morgan, how may I help you?”
Unzipping my backpack, and turning it to wrap around my body she waits. I pull out the assignments I’ve completed and offer them to her. She takes them, nails long and painted a neutral color. Much like her attire, she’s classic, boring. Hopefully she’ll accept the work early, even though the semester started today.
Flipping through the pages, she pauses and lays the small stack on her desk.
“These are the first assignments,” she says to herself I assume, “until midterms.”
Her face turns up so our eyes connect, and I realize she wants an answer from me. “Oh, me. Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll look through them, but, Miss Morgan. If they aren’t up to my standards, you’ll only receive the credit I’m willing to give.”
I nod, feeling pretty confident in my work. The last school I was in had already gone over this material, and I received top marks for those same papers.
She shakes her head slowly, but nods, “I’ll have them graded for you in time.”
I bounce my way out of the room, excited to talk with Cody and turn in the next batch of assignments. Halting my pep, I spot Cody leaning up against a wall talking, well maybe arguing, with Talon. They’re loud, and no one is even pretending not to listen.
Definitely arguing if the way Talon steps toward him is any indication. I do not want to deal with this, however, my curiosity to know how Cody is here outweighs the rational part of my brain. It’s been two years since I last saw him.
Storming toward the slow gathering crowd, I push past a few students and step between the two boys. Talon looms behind me, as if he’s gained inches overnight, and Cody has always been freakishly tall.
I’ve never felt short in my life, but between these two, especially in their angry states, I feel small.
Laying my palm flat on Cody’s chest, I push him further away from Talon. Talon steps forward, as if I’m not standing between the two. His chest brushes my back and I whirl, “take a step back, showboat.”
His eyes slide to mine, it’s like slow motion, the blue-green depths of them jar me, just for a moment and he scoffs, but doesn’t move.
“She said step back,” Cody rumbles, and if Talon being so close wasn’t currently flipping my stomach, I’d have something snarky to respond.
Talon’s eyes are firmly latched on to mine when he responds, “or what?”
His cupid’s bow lips spread across his teeth in a predatory smile.
“Or I’ll have you on your ass in two seconds,” I warn him while stepping into his space further, pressing my body against his, “or do you not remember our meet cute?”
His head dips down, just a fraction so we’re eye level, his blue-green irises blazing. It’s like he’s in 4k, I can see every piece of stubble he didn’t catch this morning, the length of his dark golden lashes.
I can feel Cody vibrating at my back, begging for a fight.
“Of course, a slut like you would want me on my back.”
That’s all it takes for Cody to pull me by the back of my neck into his body, whispering that Talon is not worth it as students who have gathered are snickering and hollering.
“What, mommy doesn’t make enough on her back? So daughter takes every job she’s offered?”
Now I’m the one vibrating, Cody’s hand tightens around my neck, one arm bound around my middle. He will not speak about my mother like that without consequences. My mother didn’t raise a fucking coward, or a push-over.
Willing my body to relax, just enough for Cody to release me an inch, I spring. Gripping the front of Talon’s shirt and kicking my foot between his. Scooping my leg around his ankle, I pull and push with my fists. Sending him to the ground.
The cacophony of noise silences as I straddle his prone and shocked body. Going down to my knees, I cage his body between my legs and growl into his ear, “Two. Seconds.”
His face turns red, hands balled into fists. He may have no respect for women, but he won’t hit me. Not with all of these witnesses around.
Slowly, I get up, accepting Cody’s outstretched hand and debate stepping on Talon’s manhood. But decide he’s had enough embarrassment for one day.
“Miss Morgan,” a throaty voice calls from the other end of the hall, “a word?”
Fuck.