Elite - Chapter 7
Friday
The black sedan pulled up next to me on the sidewalk. I quickened my pace, but Miller was out of the car and blocking my path in a matter of seconds.
“You have an appointment with the stylist in twenty minutes,” he said.
I had no idea how he’d found me. Did Mr. Pruitt put a tracking device on me like I was a dog or something? I wouldn’t put it past him. I’d been roaming around the city aimlessly for the last hour and his minion had still found me.
The whole time I’d been taking turns crying and seething.
Mostly crying. Because I kept reminding myself that a broken heart from a stupid boy wasn’t at all comparable to losing the two people I loved most in the world.
And the fact that I was even thinking about Matt made my stomach turn with guilt.
He wasn’t important. He didn’t matter. I kept saying those two sentences over and over again like I could convince myself they were true if I heard them enough times.
But it was hard to convince my heart that it was fine when it felt like Matt had driven over it with James’ Benz.
I tried to sidestep Miller but he blocked my path again.
“What happened to the blazer you were wearing this morning?” he asked.
I stopped moving and just stood in the middle of the sidewalk. “It doesn’t matter.” Nothing matters anymore.
“It does matter. The stylist has a whole list of things you’re going to need. And if you lost it, we need to add a new one to the list.”
I clenched my jaw. Lost it? I didn’t just lose items of clothing randomly during the day.
I could barely afford this stupid uniform.
I’d never lose it. And just the thought made me actually lose my mind.
“I don’t need any more blazers! Or clothes!
Just let me go back to Kennedy’s!” Yeah, I’d lost it, screaming at a practical stranger.
“You know I can’t do that, kid.”
Today the nickname wasn’t reassuring at all. Only my uncle was allowed to call me kiddo and make everything better. Not this random security guard. “Don’t call me that.” I tried to sidestep him again, but he put his hand on my shoulder.
“What happened today?” he asked. “Why didn’t you meet me outside the school like you were supposed to?”
“I didn’t meet you outside because I have no intention of going anywhere with you!”
“What happened?” he asked again in such a calm voice that my bottom lip started to tremble.
I wiped my angry tears away, hopefully before he could see them.
It wasn’t like I could tell him about the lunch incident.
Isabella’s threat had been heard loud and clear.
She’d have some alternate story about what happened today.
And no one would believe me over her. “Nothing. It’s not important,” I said.
He pressed his lips together. “I think it is important.”
“You’re really not going to let me go back to Kennedy’s place, are you?” I asked, ignoring what he’d said.
“I grabbed your belongings this morning. It’s all in your new room. It’ll be just like you’re there.”
Was he kidding? The Alcaraz’s apartment was warm and homey.
There wasn’t a chance in hell that Isabella lived in a place like that.
But there was no point in arguing more with Miller.
He was just following orders from the devil himself.
I might as well get this over with. One weird stylist meeting.
And one awkward dinner. There was no way Isabella would let me stay at her house longer than that.
I’d be back at the Alcaraz’s in no time.
Or at Felix’s. I’d go anywhere as long as it was far away from the Pruitts.
I sighed. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said with a small smile.
We were both quiet as we got in the car. But as the minutes ticked by, I was getting more and more anxious. I leaned forward in the back seat. “What’s Mrs. Pruitt like?” I asked.
“Um. Like Isabella.”
“And what do you mean by that exactly?” I asked, even though I had a good guess.
He cleared his throat. “You know. A lot like Mr. Pruitt.”
Great. I leaned back in my seat. He didn’t need to elaborate.
I did know. The whole family was toxic, just like Matt had said.
I refused to let myself think of Matt as the tall buildings flew past in the window.
He didn’t deserve to occupy any space in my head.
But when I glimpsed one of the entrances to Central Park I wanted to cry all over again.
This morning he’d been so sweet. This morning when no one was watching.
I was surprised when the car suddenly came to a stop. I’d just assumed we’d leave the city and drive into mansion territory. “This is it?” I asked as I stared out the window.
“Home sweet home,” Miller said.
It was an older building, so much different than the modern monstrosity Mr. Pruitt had locked me up in last night.
It reminded me more of the outside of Felix’s place.
I opened up the door before Miller had a chance to.
I squinted at the building. Wait…was this Felix’s apartment complex?
It certainly looked the same. But I didn’t remember his address. Kennedy was the one that knew it.
“Aren’t you coming?” Miller asked.
I realized I’d been awkwardly standing on the sidewalk staring at the front doors. “Mhm.” I wasn’t sure why he’d asked. He’d made it pretty clear that I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
The doorman greeted us as I walked into the lobby.
The whole building screamed old money. And even though it was definitely restored at some point, it still possessed its old charm.
It was the same thing I’d thought when I walked into Felix’s apartment building.
And I was positive it was the same one. I thought about the way he winked after saying he’d see me tonight.
He must have known. I mean of course he knew.
You couldn’t live that close to evil and not know it.
Why didn’t he tell me? Knowing he was close by made me feel so much better.
I breathed a sigh of relief while I listened to the elevator music.
Yup, it was definitely the same building.
Now if I could just remember what number his apartment was.
I knew it felt like it took forever to reach his floor. So he had to be pretty high up.
I was barely paying attention when the elevator came to a stop.
I followed Miller down the hall, one with the same plush carpet that had been in Felix’s apartment’s hallway.
And when we reached a door that had an uncanny resemblance to the ornate front doors of Empire High, I was 100 percent certain I was in Felix’s building.
It made me significantly less scared to enter the Pruitts’ evil lair.
I was expecting it to look completely modern like Felix’s apartment, but the Pruitts had gone in a different direction with their interior decorating.
Everything inside looked like it was an antique.
There was art in gold frames, fancy vases on display, and even a statue in the middle of the foyer.
I just stood there, afraid to move in case I broke something.
It reminded me more of the decorating in Matt’s huge mansion.
Is that why he came over here to hang out with her?
Because it felt like his creepy vampire-esque home?
I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to live here.
I already knew I’d have nightmares and never be able to sleep.
Even if it had been homey and quaint, I’d still have nightmares living down the hall from Isabella.
“The stylist is upstairs,” Miller said. “I’ll give you a tour after your fitting.”
“Okay.” My voice echoed around me. The thought of being alone in the foyer was enough to pull me out of my thoughts.
I hurried after him up the stairs. We passed a few rooms and the smell of fresh paint hit my nose.
He guided me to the room all the way at the end of the hall.
I peered inside. There was a woman with thick glasses and wiry hair standing in the middle of the room with a long rack of clothes.
It was an odd sight, but I was more shocked by the room itself.
The room didn’t match the aesthetic of the rest of the house at all.
Everything inside was light and airy. There was a white fourposter bed with pristine white sheets and a poofy white comforter.
There was a matching nightstand and dresser.
A huge window was on the far wall with a view of the city.
But the most shocking thing of all was that the whole room was painted bright yellow.
Almost the exact shade that my mom’s kitchen had been.
“Sorry about the smell,” Miller said. “The painters just left.”
“It’s yellow,” I said.
“You didn’t choose a color when Mr. Pruitt asked your favorite, so he chose for you.”
“He chose this color?”
Miller nodded. “If you don’t like it, you can just choose a new one and I’ll call the painters back tomorrow.”
“No. No, I like it.” Actually, I loved it.
The yellow hue couldn’t be a coincidence.
Yellow wasn’t exactly a safe choice for a teenager’s bedroom.
Mr. Pruitt knew my mom’s favorite color.
He chose it because he wanted me to feel like this was home.
Right? The thought made my chest ache. What else did he know about my mom? What else did he know about me?
“We don’t have much time,” the stylist said. “I have another appointment in three hours.”
Three hours? What was she planning on doing with me for three hours?
“Miller gave me a guess on your measurements so you’d have a few things to wear this weekend. But come, come, so I can get you fitted perfectly.” I swore it looked like she pulled a measuring tape out of thin air.
I looked up at Miller. He’d guessed my measurements?
“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said without looking at me and closed the door.
I turned back to the stylist. Her eyes were magnified by her glasses and it seemed like they were about to bug out of her head.
She hurried over to me and started measuring every inch of my body.
She rapid fired questions at me about styles I knew nothing about.
I wasn’t even sure how she was talking because there was a handful of pins sticking out of her mouth.
She forced me to try on every single item on the garment rack she’d brought in, even though I insisted I didn’t need anything.
And the whole time all I could think about was how did she get this rack of clothes up the stairs?
It looked like the metal beam holding all the hangers was about to snap from the weight of all the clothes.
She said it was just for stuff to wear this weekend.
How often did the Pruitts change in one day?
She tightened a skirt around my waist and put a pin in it. “Perfect, perfect,” she mumbled. “I’ll alter that one but the next one should fit fine.” She handed me a dress to change into.
I stared around at the comforting yellow of the walls as I pulled what felt like the hundredth garment over my head. I stared at my reflection in the floor length mirror. I’d never worn anything so beautiful in my life. My fingers traced the sequins on the shoulder.
“A perfect fit,” the stylist said.
I smiled. For just a second, it felt like this random woman was my fairy godmother. And that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
“Wear that one tonight,” she said. “Mrs. Pruitt loves red.”
The idea that this was my fairy godmother quickly disappeared. Because all I could think about was that Mrs. Pruitt loved red. A shiver ran down my spine. Red was the color of blood. No matter how hard I tried to shake away the image, I couldn’t.