With my hands finally free, I head back to the door and start banging against it. Nothing. The door doesn’t budge and of course, no one responds to my shouts. While I was trying to break my binds, I heard the school bell ringing in the distance, announcing the end of the day and, being a Friday, everyone has probably left school ASAP, wanting to get a kick start on their weekend.
Realising I’m not getting out of here until one of these jerkoffs lets me out, I rifle round in the dark storage space until I find a halfway comfortable crate which I push against the wall and make myself at home while I wait for them to return. Thank fuck I’m not afraid of the dark. Nope. You get over that fear real quick as a kid, when your electricity keeps getting cut off because the bill wasn’t paid in time. Even on the nights we did have working lights, we couldn’t afford to waste it by keeping a light on all night.
I feel like I’ve been sitting there for hours, stewing in my anger and hatred for these boys and the rest of the sheep in this godforsaken school. My ass is numb by the time I hear the click of the door unlocking across the room, but the minute I register what it is, I’m up from the crate and across the room in a flash. Flying through the door, I am immediately blinded by the bright afternoon sunlight as I stumble out onto the grass.
As soon as my eyes have once again adjusted, I realise the boys must have carried me across the football field to a storage building far away from the main school building, on the outskirts of the school’s property, where the property line meets the surrounding forest. There was no way anyone would have heard me screaming from this far away, and no one would have any reason to be over in this part of the grounds after school.
Turning around, I can’t find either of the jackasses anywhere which only serves to fuel my anger towards them. “I’m going to fucking kill you, assholes!” I yell out across the empty football pitch and up into the surrounding trees before storming off across the field, towards the car park, all the while cussing them out in my head.
Thankfully, my driver is still sitting in the car park, although God only knows why he sat and waited for me. Without a word I get into the back seat, fuming over letting those wankers get one up on me this afternoon. Their little devious plan might not have had its intended purpose of scaring me, but letting them get the jump on me makes me look weak and I can’t afford to look anything less than formidable in this accursed school.
Thomas greets me in the foyer when I get back. “Ah Miss there you are, I was beginning to worry.”
“Sorry Thomas. Got held up with a project at school.” I lie, not wanting to share what happened in case it gets back to my father.
“No worries Miss. Your father wanted to see you as soon as you got home.” He says, not realising his words have just turned my day from crappy to completely fucking shit. I still haven’t gotten over the mental trauma of Monday, so I am in no way prepared to face-off against my father again so soon.
“Thanks Thomas” I respond despondently, knowing I have no choice in the matter. Reigning in my apprehension and locking it down tight, I put on the ‘don’t mess with me’ face I wore with ease when I was working the bar or dealing with my mum’s strays when I was back home.
Feeling as prepared as I am ever going to, I head towards my father’s office, knocking on the door and waiting for him to tell me to come in.
“Sophie, have a seat.”
“I haven’t had any more phone calls from school, I assume you have learnt your lesson?”
Gritting my teeth, I grind out, “Yes, sir,” knowing there is no other response he wants to hear.
“Good. Have you managed to make many friends yet?”
“Eh, I’m working on it. I’ve been talking to a number of people this week.”
Nodding his head absently.
“The most important families in this town are the Donaghues, Belmonts, Chadwicks, Hawthornes, Williamsons and Ashby’s. I believe each of them has a child in your year at school.”
Already knowing that Preston is a Donaghue and Barrett a Belmont, I realise he is referring to the one-percenters.
If I remember correctly, Kurts surname is Chadwick, and the Barbies must be the other three names, not that I paid enough attention to remember their first names, never mind what families they belong to. Family names might mean everything in this society but they sure as shit mean nothing to me.
“They all come from old money families and their fathers are important people to impress,” my father continues, “Preston’s father is the Governor of California and runs a number of international businesses. Barrett’s father is the current Chief Justice and Mr. Williamson is director of the FBI. The others are all high up in government or own reputable businesses, meaning they are all very well-connected people; not anyone we want to get on the wrong side of.” My father impresses upon me, staring me down with his intense gaze.
“Of course, it is important to get to know as many people as possible in this town; you never know who can be a useful ally, but these six families are the most important ones.” He impresses upon me.
There’s no way I am going to tell him that every interaction I had with each member of the one-percenters was hostile and that there wasn’t a chance in hell that I was ever going to be invited into their little group, not that I would even want to be a part of it.
Robert continues to glare at me until I nod my head in confirmation that I have heard what he said. “Of course, Father. May I ask what sort of business it is that you are involved in?” I enquire in my sweetest voice, keeping my face as innocent-looking as possible in the hopes of garnering some information from him, “So I can ascertain which students would be the best to cosy up to,” I justify.
Giving me a hard look, “I have many diverse interests. Pharmaceuticals, private security, and high-end hospitality and entertainment venues to name a few. I’m looking to branch into a new market though, one that some of the people in this town are integral to the success of,” he responds before focusing his attention back on the documents on his desk in a less than subtle hint that this conversation is over and I am dismissed.
Ignoring his dismissal and trying to look as though I don’t understand what he is talking about, noting that he was incredibly vague about his involvement in each of these industries, I continue to push him.
“What new market is it you are trying to branch into, that requires such heavy involvement from high ranking law officials?” I ask, trying to come across like a naïve, confused girl who can’t wrap her head around such complicated business concepts.
Damn, I must need to work on my dumb blonde look as Robert suddenly snaps his attention back to me, clenching his pen tightly in his hand, causing his knuckles to whiten.
“That is none of your concern,” he barks out, “Focus on what you have to do, getting to know as many people as you can, and keep your nose out of my business. Now, I have work to do.” He finishes, this time maintaining eye contact with me until I’m out of the room.
Great. Not only do the one-percenters hate me, but now I have to pretend to my father to be friendly with them. Having had enough of this day I leave his office and head straight to my bedroom, having no intention of leaving it until I have to go back to school again on Monday.