Chapter Six #2
I pause outside of the dining room, nervous to enter.
This is it, my identity will be revealed and there’ll be no hiding from anyone.
I wonder how Sawyer will react. Will he out me in front of everyone?
I wipe my sweaty palms on my black jeans.
Then I lift my chin, throw my shoulders back and stroll into the dining room like I own it. Fake it til you make it, right?
“Everyone, this is Amelie,” Monty says, introducing me. “Amelie, these are my sons Kalen, the youngest - who you’ve met - and the twins, Slate and Onyx.”
“We’ve met,” I say darkly as their eyes come to rest on me. I have no qualms with telling daddy dearest about their attack in the study hall. Just not yet. Let them squirm a little.
“Oh! Excellent!” Monty beams, completely misreading my tone. Idiot probably thinks we’re all best buddies. “Well, now that everyone is introduced, would you like to take a seat, Amelie?”
I do, but quickly ask, “I thought you had four sons?”
“Ah yes, well Sawyer - my oldest son - is a little tied up on business today,” Monty clarifies.
“Oh? What does he do?” I play dumb.
“He’s a teacher at the academy.”
“And he’s working on a Sunday?” I raise an eyebrow disbelievingly. I smell bullshit.
“Didn’t you meet him at your detention yesterday?” Monty frowns.
“Nope,” is all I say with a grin. I reach over and help myself to the food that’s been heaped upon the table, piling my plate high. May as well eat a good meal; the food at school is shit, and eating a small amount won’t allow me to leave any earlier, so I may as well fill up.
“I love a girl with an appetite,” Kalen winks at me.
“May I have a cider please?” I ask looking at the green glass bottles in front of Kalen and the twins.
“No,” the incubator interrupts as Monty says “sure.”
“She’s not old enough, Monty.”
“Please! I’m eighteen in two days’ time!” I scoff. As if I’ve never had a drink before; I’ve been stealing booze from my uncle’s house since I could tie my own shoelaces - usually to give to my mother.
“So you can enjoy your first drink on Tuesday, with your family,” the incubator replies tartly and the twins snigger. Kalen looks interested to hear it’s my birthday soon. Maybe he has plans to help me celebrate in style.
“Amelie, why didn’t you see Sawyer at your detention?” Monty’s voice is firmer. Ah, so he’s back to playing headmaster now, not friendly step father. That didn’t last long.
“Because I didn’t go,”
“What?!” Kalen exclaims, looking at me with eyes as wide as saucers.
“Amelie, please explain,” Monty says calmly.
“When I got sent out of Mrs Knox’s class you said…” I begin but I’m sharply cut off by Monty. I also know that the SELF class teacher isn’t called Mrs Knox, but it will piss the incubator off to hear me call her that.
“I know what I said,” he says tightly. I can tell he doesn’t want me to reveal the credit card and our little deal to his new squeeze.
“Mrs Knox?” the incubator hisses. “Does she mean Maggie’s class? Why the hell is she in her class? And why was she sent out?”
I wait for the mother figure to start chewing me out, acting the part of a good parent who actually gives a fuck, but she doesn’t. She’s glaring at Monty, waiting for an answer.
“Maggie is down to teach SELF this term, and all pupils have to take it. I’m sorry honey, but Maggie is a professional. Amelie will be treated exactly the same as any other pupil.”
“Some professional,” I mutter under my breath, only not quietly enough.
“Shut the fuck up, slut!” one of the twins hisses at me. Maybe Onyx? Didn’t Elsie say he was the more hostile of the two?
“Monty!” Incubator gasps, her hand flying to her chest in mock-horror. “Are you going to allow them to talk to my daughter like that?”
“Absolutely not! Onyx, be quiet.” He glares at his son and suddenly the tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a blunt rusty spoon.
“Amelie, I’m sorry about Ms Davis’ outburst the other day.
We have had words, and she has been reminded to remain professional at all times.
However, your detention wasn’t issued for being sent out of that class, was it? ”
“Hang on,” the incubator cries before I can answer. “What the hell did that woman do to my daughter?”
“It was a simple misunderstanding, honey, wasn’t it, Amelie?” Monty turns to me and I feel the weight of the credit card bribe burning a hole in my pocket. I could deny it, and cause trouble, or I can agree and bide my time. I choose option two; I’ve already decided to play the long game.
“It was…” I pause and swallow the bitter words in my mouth, once, twice, before forcing them out with a fake tight smile, “mother.”
The incubator smiles and relaxes a little at the almost term of endearment that I just used.
“Can we eat now? I’m starving,” Kalen grumbles.
“Hang on. We’ll say grace first. But before that, I need to know why Amelie really missed her detention,” Monty insists. “Amelie? Your detention was for sloppy uniform, was it not?”
“It was, but it was Kalen who gave it to me! I thought he was joking! I didn’t know pupils could give out detentions,” I sulk.
“Not all can. But Kalen is a prefect. All my boys are,” he adds proudly.
“Perks of being the principal’s son,” I grumble.
“Not at all. My boys are model citizens within the academy, though they haven’t always been, and they’ve worked hard to earn the honour of being prefects.”
That’s total bullshit. From what I’ve seen so far, the twins are a law unto themselves and Kalen does whatever the fuck he likes. And whomever he likes. The twins assaulted me for fuck’s sake!
“I didn’t know,” I say, looking down at my plate and feigning contrition. I have to pick my battles, and right now I need them eating out of the palm of my hand, not spanking it.
“Okay, but didn’t your tablet remind you to go? It’s automatic.”
“I lost Susan.”
“Who’s Susan?” he frowns.
“My tablet.”
“You named your tablet?” he asks, aghast.
“I needed a friend,” I say sadly, looking up with crocodile tears in my eyes. My huge brown eyes are doe-like at the best of times, and it’s my party trick to be able to turn on the water works at will.
“Where’s your tablet now, Amelie? I will get tech support to look at her - I mean, it.”
“I lost it,” I say in a tiny voice, looking back down at my plate. “I’m really sorry, Sir, I think one of the students took it from my bag. I didn’t want to report it because I’ve never had anything so expensive and fancy before and I was so ashamed to have lost it already.”
I feel the atmosphere of the room shift and I know I’ve played a blinder. I may also just have outed the incubator as being piss-poor. I can’t imagine that the Knox family knows shit about her past life. She’s certainly cleaned up her image since she left us.
“Okay. Leave it with me and I’ll sort something out.”
“But she got a detention! She has to be punished!” Incubator starts to shrill, back against me already. The caring mother act didn’t last long at all. “That’s it, Amelie! You were at the school one day and you already messed up. You’re not having phone privileges this month!”
Before I can jump in and kick off about how unfair that is, Monty surprises me by coming to my rescue.
“No, honey,” he says placatingly, placing a calming hand on the incubator’s and patting it gently.
“If this is going to work, we need to keep home life and school life separate. Leave it with me; I’ll fix Amelie’s punishment.
It can start after her birthday though. Turning eighteen is a big deal, and no-one deserves to have that cancelled. ”
I know they expect me to be grateful and to thank them, but I don’t and I’m not.
The only small positive to come out of that speech is that I get to use the phone still, so I quickly and silently start eating, saying grace forgotten, and planning to disappear with it straight after dinner and to run up huge overseas calling charges.
I mentally compile a list of people I can call, after family, just to piss the incubator off when she gets the bill.
We eat the meal in silence, the twins throwing daggers at me with their eyes whenever the parentals aren’t looking. Even Kalen keeps his head down; not making eye contact with me. No little touches, no flirting...nothing.
I eat quickly and ask to be excused from the table. Monty agrees before the incubator can say no.
“May I have my phone, please, to call my family?” I ask politely enough, but I emphasise the word family to send a clear message: I don’t belong here. I never will.
“Of course,” Monty says after a beat when the incubator ignores my request. He gets to his feet and tells me to follow him.
Out in the hallway he opens a dresser drawer and passes me the rose gold iPhone.
“Can you put it back here when you’re done?
” he asks. He makes a big deal of trusting me to do this, but we both know he’ll be checking I've returned it before I’m allowed to leave.
“Of course, Sir,” I comply.
“Monty, please.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Is there somewhere I can go, for privacy?”
“You can use any room in the house, Amelie. But at the top of the stairs, first door on the right, you will find a room that is yours if you want it.”
I nod and take off for the stairs. I consider snooping around a bit - he practically gave me permission to do so - but impatience wins out and I decide to just go to ‘my’ room and call. Digging for dirt can wait; I need my family first.