Chapter One – Jaz
Nothing felt right, and I didn’t mean that in the angsty teenage everything sucks way. I meant it literally. The clothes Mom and I had picked up before coming here didn’t look right on me. They fit, yes, but beyond that they were too…weird-looking.
They were nice, of course. No stains, no stray strings on any sleeves or sew lines. The clothes themselves were decent, but they were almost too much. Too fancy, too poser-y. Not sure how fancy you could be when you bought your clothes at the second-hand store, though.
Mom had told me again and again it would be fine, that it was only the kids in movies who noticed stupid things like that, but I wasn’t so sure. The kids at Midpark were surely different than the ones I’d gone to school with before.
I stared at myself in the mirror, not liking the way the dress I wore looked on me. I was probably the only one awake in the house; Mom would still be asleep, and Ollie took some weird hours. That man constantly drowned himself in his work; Mom had told me he’d lost his family, but I had no other details.
Midpark was a rich high school. I was sure its students would somehow know I didn’t belong there. I might live in the school district now, but I shouldn’t be there—to which I’d say uprooting my entire life and moving across state lines one week after turning eighteen wasn’t what I wanted, either.
We had to deal with the hand life gave us, and for me and Mom, life constantly gave us shitty hands. She was of the mind that it was starting to look up; we had a nice roof over our heads, she had employment paying well enough that she could funnel some money away and save, and we would all start fresh.
Mom even made me change phone numbers, forbade me from giving my new number out to my old friends—not like I had many, but still. She was being paranoid, and I had no idea why.
Back to the matter at hand.
My outfit. I wasn’t really a dress-wearing type of girl. Time to change.
I eventually decided on a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a layered shirt, paired with a simple necklace. The pendant was a cross, but it wasn’t gold or sterling silver, so the metal was a bit tarnished. I liked the look, though. Made it feel more real.
My bag was packed with new school items—unused pens still with their caps, unsharpened pencils and notebooks with not a single line written in them. Felt like the first day of school all over again, and in a way, it was. Halfway through the year and I would be the new student everyone gossiped about.
Not looking forward to that, but with any luck I’d be able to fly under the radar.
Hah. Me, flying under the radar. Somehow, I didn’t think that would happen.
I did just a bit of makeup, curling my long black hair so it was wavy instead of bed-head kinky. Once it was a respectable time, once I was sure my mom would be up and downstairs, I zipped on some ankle-high boots, grabbed a jacket and my bag, and headed down.
Don’t even get me started on how huge this house was. A sprawling mansion with dozens of rooms. Living life to the extreme, I guessed. It wasn’t a wonder why Ollie needed a live-in maid to clean it. Mom always had odd jobs, but this was the first one she was actually excited about. Probably because she didn’t have to drive anywhere, and also probably because she thought it would be good for me.
Sometimes I was a trouble-maker. Sometimes I said and did things without thinking. Didn’t we all?
Yeah, get me away from all of that, and stick me into a rich, hoity-toity high school. Sounded like a great plan, didn’t it?
I found Mom in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. The smell of bacon permeated the air, and I slid onto one of the bar stools on the island, dropping my bag beside me as I basked in the heavenly scent.
Mom didn’t much look like me. If you took a look at her and then at me, you’d wonder just how we could be related. She had skin as pale as porcelain while mine was a bit darker naturally, along with blonde hair and blue eyes that I was constantly jealous of. Mine was a thick mess of black, and my eyes were the color of shit.
Or maybe that was just my jealousy peeking through.
I let out a sigh, catching her attention finally. She tossed a look over her shoulder, giving me a warm smile. “Ready for your first day of school?” A stupid question, because the answer should’ve been obvious.
“Nope.” I picked at a groove in the butcher block wood below me, wondering just what fresh hell I’d walk into at Midpark. Halfway through the year, there had to be drama aplenty. And with rich kids, I could only imagine what their particular brand of drama was like. “You know, I could be homeschooled.”
My mom threw me an icy glare.
“There are programs,” I quickly said. “So you wouldn’t have to do it.”
“No, like I’ve said a thousand times already, you’re going to Midpark.” She left her station near the stove, moving to stand on the other side of the island. Leaning her palms onto the wood, she whispered, “Think of it as the next step in your life. Midpark will be good for you. Maybe you’ll make connections. As much as it isn’t fair, the rich have opportunities normal people don’t.” She lowered her voice just in case Ollie came down the stairs at that particular moment, but he didn’t.
Making connections. Yeah, great. Wonderful. Somehow I didn’t think other high schoolers had to worry about connections and all that shit. I was just a super lucky duck.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, and Mom went back to the stove.
Within minutes, the bacon was done, and she started cooking me up some eggs. She wasn’t the best cook in the world, but cooking for Ollie was a part of her daily duties, so I knew she’d get better.
Being a live-in maid to a rich guy…seemed a little weird, but I knew beggars couldn’t be choosers. Mom had bounced from weird job to weird job for the last eighteen years ever since having me, but if this could be a more stable environment for her, I’d do my best to adjust. How hard could it be?
I was nearly done with my breakfast when I heard Ollie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. He carried a black leather briefcase, and he set it on the counter near the coffee maker. He said not a word, but my mom leaped into action.
“Here, let me,” she said, hurrying to make his damned coffee for him, as if he was some helpless twat. “I could’ve had it ready for you, but you go in at different times every day.” It was true; we’d been here only a week, and I’d already noticed Ollie’s work hours were crazy.
Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone in this house anymore, or maybe the rich and semi-famous around here got into a lot of trouble and constantly needed his help. Oliver Fitzpatrick was the best lawyer you could get with money; it’s how he afforded this place and all of the stuff inside it on his salary alone.
“I figured I’d drive Jazmine on her first day,” Ollie spoke, using my full name instead of Jaz. Jazmine was so formal, so…ugh. I’d given up telling him he could call me Jaz. “You could get a head start in the living room.”
Right. Because Ollie was hosting some kind of fundraiser here, because the man already didn’t do enough work as it was.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew that man was just drowning himself in work, work, and more work so he wouldn’t think about the family he lost. Of course, I didn’t know all of the details, but I knew he’d lost them. I knew he’d had children and a wife, and they were gone. Asking for the details about it felt wrong, so I hadn’t.