“I’m sorry to be the one to break this down to you Mia, but if you were planning to actually learn today, aren’t you already late?”
She’s right of course. It’s an hour until lunch time.
“I’m not going to learn. I’m just going to see the Principal and be right back.”
“In your school uniform?”
I look down at my new pretty uniform. Nicky got me a new set of stuff but it was a waste honestly, especially after today.
“Yeah well, why not?” I whisper. “I wanted to wear it.”
I’m shrugging it off as if this isn’t a big moment for me. The last time I wore this senior’s get-up, it was stripped off of me when I was unconscious, knocked out by some unknown drug. I have bad memories in this, but over the past few weeks, I was thinking about what I said to Julian.
I don’t want to be a victim anymore. I don’t want to live like that again and so, I’m taking the shitty things I can actually change and make sure they have no power over me. Including this uniform. So, I’m wearing the hell out of it.
“Is there a problem?” I whisper
“No,” she says softly. “I just… I love your new hair-do.”
Ah yes. The long locks are gone. I had the big chop and now, I have a lush, curly bob. My hair reaches my shoulders.
“Thank you.”
“But you have this look in your eyes,” she says carefully.
“What look?”
“Like you’ve finally settled over a major, life altering decision kind of look.”
Nicky, my mother, is on hell of a perspective observer. I always knew that about her but in recent weeks, I feel like she’s always been aware of my deepest, darkest secrets, including things I never told Nancy.
I take a deep breath and then turn to look at her. “I did come to a decision actually and I wanted to talk to you about it actually.”
“Uh, okay,” she mumbles softly, not really knowing what to do.
I smile, trying to ease her anxiety. If I could avoid this, I could but as I lay in my still unfamiliar bed in this still unfamiliar room all day and night these past weeks, one thing kept coming back to me.
Now, it’s time to let it out.
“Can we talk on our way to Clintwood? You can drive me?”
I see the tears well up in her eyes as she nods.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Mia
With my heart in my throat, I knock timidly on the door. I never thought my life would come to this, but here I am. My world has managed to fall apart more than twice and for some fucked up reason, this time, I feel like there’s no going back from this.
The humiliation.
The accusations.
The pain that sears through me like my heart is on a rotisserie over an open fire, being grilled to a fine well-done.
“Come in,” the voice calls. I push open the door, barely breathing. If I do this, there’s no going back. There’s no changing my mind like I’ve done so many times before, but when my gaze connects with Principal Bailey, I just know. This is it.
“Ah, Miss. Montague,” she starts, her voice soft, dripping of sympathy. I immediately hate it, but I smile woodenly. “It’s good to see you, dear. Please, come in and have a seat.”
“Thank you,” I mutter, sitting down at the edge of the chair like I’m ready to bolt out of this place at any time. “I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to see me at such short notice.”
“It wasn’t a hustle at all,” she says, staring at me like she doesn’t know what to say. I don’t blame her. I don’t know HOW to say what I want to say.
On my way to her office, I managed to slip past unnoticed as the students are still in class, so I want to make this brief and straight to the point.
“How can I help you, Mia? Are you ready to resume your physical classes?”
“Uh, that’s why I’m here, Principal Bailey,” I say, proud that my voice is strong and sure.
I ring my fingers, trying my best not to look away from her so she doesn’t see how nervous I am.
“Okay, do go on, dear.”
“I like your tan, how as your summer?” I say instead.
I know I’m stalling, but she indulges me. That’s what people do when they have no idea how to handle broken people like me. Broken, lost and grieving.
“We visited Tijuana, with my soon-to-be husband number three.” I glance at the giant rock on her left hand. An unexpected ache runs through me, taking me by surprise.
“Congratulations,” I choke out, clearing my throat when she looks at me weird. “It’s a gorgeous ring. Cartier?”
I already know it’s not. Maybe Tiffany’s but I need a moment to compose myself.
She glances down at her ring too, a frown on her face her heavily done face. Last school year she had laugh lines around her eyes. Today, she has none whatsoever. I guess she finally gave in to the plastic gods.
“I’m not sure to be honest, I never asked.”
“Well, it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you, Mia.” I watch as she grabs a neatly stacked file and then she starts messing it up like she’s looking for something. She’s not. If she was, she’d actually look down at the papers, but her eyes shift toward me then at her fingers.
“So how can I—”
“I need your help with something.”
We both stop and look at each other. She blinks, then organizes the papers for real and puts them aside. It’s time to get this done.
“Go on, dear.”
“You’ve seen my face and name all over the internet and news with headlines that shocked you.”
“I won’t lie, it did shake me.”
Here goes nothing.
“Yes well, I’ve been an honors student since I was in elementary. I’ve been on your honors roll since freshman year up until now. I’ve never failed at anything and never missed school until, well, recently.”
“Yes, I’m aware of all of this. All your impressive accomplishments, your hard work and dedication to your education and this school has been noted down in the history books as the greatest this school has ever seen.”
“Thank you for saying that, Principal Bailey. Today I came here to ask you to put that all in writing, preferably on official school stationary with that beautiful signature of yours.”
She’s silent for a while, studying me as if I’m an alien from out of space—and not the student at the top of her highest honor roll.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Breathe, Mia. This is it.
“Yes, Principal Bailey,” I say softly. “It’s time.”
She’s silent for a bit, studying me.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” she finally says. “It’s not easy losing a mother.”
My heart aches as I think of the woman who helped raise and protect me. And now, my heart breaks for the woman who had to raise me from a distance and now has to say goodbye to me as I spread my wings and stop waiting for… him.
“No, it’s not,” I whisper.
“Which school have you decided on?” she questions, typing something on her computer.