Sierra
Chapter five
The rest of the morning was much of the same, whispered and not so whispered insults while the teachers ignore everything.
The new guy Zander wasn’t in any more of my classes, and I have none with Wesley yet.
Needless to say, I couldn’t say the same for Savannah; I had her in my history class right before lunch.
She made sure to spend the entire class slinging as many names and innuendos at me as she could.
Slut. It’s funny that she calls me that. She’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen, hell I think she’s fucked her way through as many of the guys at this school as she could, hoping to snag Wesley. Rumor is she’s slept with him, but he’s never acted as if he has.
Then there’s me, the one called a whore, and I’ve never slept with anyone. Hell, in my mind I’m technically still a virgin, even though I know I’m physically not, thanks to a night I can’t remember.
I always hoped I would lose my virginity to Wesley and it would be magical. He’d take me to some romantic spot and treat me like a queen before he slowly made love to me. Now, I’m lucky if I can make it through a day at school without him treating me like a pile of shit.
Standing slowly, I pick up my books, cradling them in the crook of my arm as I make my way to the front of the classroom.
I have no intention of heading to the cafeteria, instead, I’m hoping to hide out in the library, tucked away in one of the corners, and read a book. Escaping the world that is my life.
“Sierra,” Mr. Donaldson calls out, stopping me in my tracks.
“Yes, sir?”
“The new guidance counselor has requested to see you. He wants to meet with all the students Mrs. Garcia was in charge of.” I’m not oblivious to how rude he sounds. Like it kills him to talk to me.
“He wants to see me now, at lunch?” I’m slightly confused about the time he wants to meet, but it gives me a solution to the lunchroom drama.
“He didn’t specify,” he says shortly as he moves behind his desk and sits down. Picking up the newspaper, he leans back, placing his feet on his desk, and opens it up, ending the conversation.
Knowing that I’m not getting anything else from him, I head off to the office where the guidance counselors’ offices are located.
Stepping into the office, I see Mrs. Bullock, still seated behind her desk. Looking up, she sees me as I enter.
“Sierra, sweetie, what are you doing back here? You didn’t have another fall, did you? Do you need another bandage for your knees?” God, this woman is the only good thing about this school.
“No, ma’am. Mr. Donaldson just told me the guidance counselor replacing Mrs. Garcia wants to see me. He just didn’t know when, so I thought I’d go ahead and stop by.” I move closer to her desk, sitting my books down on top of it while we talk.
“But it’s lunchtime, and you need to eat. Surely Mr. Stevenson can wait until after so that you can have lunch.” Her tone is full of concern. Her eyes hold a level of compassion that I’ve only ever seen in Mrs. Butler’s over the last few years.
“It’s okay. I’ve brought a sandwich and some chips.
If he doesn’t mind me eating while we talk, I’m okay to do it now.
That way, I don’t miss any class.” I don’t want to tell her the truth about why I didn’t want to go to the cafeteria.
Hell, I wouldn’t be mad if this meeting lasted the rest of the day so I didn’t have to go to any more classes.
She looks at me for a minute, almost like she’s trying to figure something out, deciphering if I have an alternative motive for wanting this meeting to be now. Finally, she places her hands on her desk and stands.
“Follow me. I’ll see if he will do it now.” She turns and heads down the hallway, the walls lined with framed photos of all the previous principals throughout the years. When she reaches the door with his nameplate showing proudly on it, she knocks lightly.
“Come in,” a deep, masculine voice shouts from the other side.
She opens the door and steps inside. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Stevenson, but I have Sierra Jones here, and she stated she was given a message to come to see you.”
“Yes, I need to see her, but surely she wants to head to the cafeteria for lunch? I can see her afterward.” His voice doesn’t hold any annoyance, but more of a concern for me eating.
Mrs. Bullock is still standing in the doorway blocking my view of the inside of the office, so I’m still not sure what he looks like or if maybe I was wrong about his voice, and he’s really scowling.
“That’s what I told her, but she said she brought her lunch with her and if you don’t mind her eating while the two of you meet, she’s okay with doing it now instead of missing any class.”
“Well, isn’t that a change from most kids? Yes, please send her in.”
Mrs. Butler steps away from the door, allowing me my first view inside of his office and of him.
The room looks fairly similar to when Mrs. Garcia had it; his degree is even hanging in a frame in the same spot hers did.
There are throw pillows on the burgundy-colored faux leather couch, and a folded throw blanket laying on the corner.
Beside it sits a stack of boxes he likely still needs to unpack, seeing how the bookcase in the corner is half full.
Student folders are stacked on his desk and sitting on the front is his nameplate and a row of pictures facing him.
He stands, extending his hand as Mrs. Bullock shuts the door, and I can hear the clicking of her heels on the tiled floor as she walks away.
Clearing his throat, he pulls my attention back to him and the outstretched hand I’ve yet to acknowledge.
Reaching out quickly, I give him a quick handshake before taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk.
I take a moment to study him. He’s tall, almost six feet, with his jet-black hair styled to perfection.
His eyes are a deep blue that sucks you in.
Instead of a suit like the principal wears, he has on a polo shirt and some slacks, looking more casual.
“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Sierra. I’m Mr. Stevenson, and I’ll be taking over as your counselor. Since I also brought my lunch, we can both eat while we talk,” he starts just as his office door flies open and the boy from the shoe store steps in.
“Dad, I forgot my wallet at home. Can I get some lunch money?” he asks quickly as his eyes drop to mine. “Shit! I mean, sorry, I didn’t realize you were with someone.”
“We had just sat down, but next time knock first. Sierra, I’m sorry about my son’s intrusion.” He pulls out his wallet, takes out a twenty, and hands it to him.
“Thanks, Dad. Nice to meet you, Sierra,” he says quickly before turning and running out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Not once did he acknowledge we’d already met.
Clearly, someone warned him about me and he’s chosen to be a sheep following the pack.
I don’t blame him; he’s new and clearly wants to fit in.
I don’t know why I thought that day he may be different from the kindness he showed to Sam and me.
“I’m so sorry for his intrusion. Apparently, he doesn’t understand that a closed door means you’re supposed to knock first.” I can’t help the small chuckle that slips from my lips.
“It’s okay.” Simple words, yet all I can think to say.
“So I’ve read over your file, and first I want to say how sorry I am about you losing your mother. I can only imagine how hard that is at such a young age. According to Mrs. Garcia’s note, you and your sister are under the care of your aunt now. How is that? Everything going well?”
His questions immediately set me in panic mode. Does he know something? How? He’s new here, and I’ve been so careful to cover all my tracks.
“Yeah, it’s good. She’s not my mom, but we’re doing good,” I mumble as I tilt my head down, staring at the books sitting on my lap.
He gives me a half-hearted smile, as his eyes seem to try to penetrate deeper into my soul. “She also says you keep to yourself. She never really saw you hanging out with any of your classmates. Is there something I should know?”
I shake my head, continuing to stare down at my hands, not wanting to look him in the face as I tell a blatant lie and pick at the edge of the books in my lap.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, Sierra, and if it’s something more personal that a woman would better be suited for, we can look at changing counselors.
” His tone is full of compassion as he looks at me before he opens a drawer on his desk, reaches in, and pulls out a lunch bag while he waits for my answer.
“No, I’m fine talking to you. Really, Mr. Stevenson.” He continues to stare at me as I tilt my head to look at him while I speak.
“Okay, so why don’t you go ahead and get your lunch out and just tell me about what you want to do after you graduate?”
I set my books on the chair beside me, as I pull my book bag off my shoulder and reach inside it, pulling out the paper bag that has my lunch inside.
God, what am I going to say? Continuing to be a stripper to save enough money to afford a lawyer, so I can get custody of my sister is not what I want to tell him or what he wants to hear.
Colton
I can’t get back to Brax and Zan quick enough and see if this Sierra chick in the office is the same one Brax met at the shoe store. Hell, she was fucking gorgeous. She seemed so shy and reserved. Shit, if it is, could she really be the temptress that Wes is making her out to be?
I mean, we bonded quickly with him, but I hate believing things about people when I don’t know them and I have no clue who they are. Granted, I was a dick that day and laughed and joked along with Wes when he was talking shit about her, but it tore me up inside doing it.
I make it to the cafeteria and find both my brothers leaning back against the wall with one foot pulled up, placed on it, supporting them. They’re deep in a hushed conversation.