fantishu
75
The next morning, I dress in my uniform, but I add the red lacy bra and panties that Zayd likes underneath. After the ceremony today, we’re going to one of the after parties to celebrate, and … I don’t know what might happen between us, but I at least want to be dressed for second base.
My bags are packed and left near the door to my room, ready for Dad to pick up after my harp solo. He’s going to take them with him when he heads home, and I’m going to leave with Zayd. Tomorrow, he’ll drive me home. How, exactly, I’m going to explain to my dad that I want to go spend the night with Zayd and a bunch of other horny teenagers is beyond me, but I’m going to try. I worked too hard this year to miss out on the party to end all parties.
Besides, I managed to finish top of the first year class. Take that, Tristan! I think, but the smug smile on my face fades when I remember the angry expression on his last night. The way he looked at me, I felt like I’d torn his heart out and crushed it under my heel. Touching my hand to my stomach, I close my eyes and try not to think about him or Creed. I can’t have three boyfriends. Nobody does. Besides, even if I were to try some sort of open relationship thing, I’d have to be okay with them dating other girls, and I’m not. I’m not at all okay with that.
In my heart, I don’t know if I made the right choice. I feel torn, split, confused.
But I made my choice, and Zayd is not a consolation prize. I won’t treat him as such.All content is © N0velDrama.Org.
Checking my hair and makeup one last time, I make my way outside to where Zayd’s waiting for me. He’s not smiling when I first see him, but when I lay my fingers on his arm, he turns to me and flashes a grin.
“I was wondering where you were,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. He weaves his tattooed fingers through mine and guides me through the winding garden paths and down to the indoor amphitheater where the ceremony’s being held. There’s a different ceremony for every year, just a series of accolades and performances to showcase the accomplishments of the students.
We head inside and move down the aisle, past the family members seated on other side.
I spot my dad right away. What I don’t expect is to see Jennifer sitting beside him.
My feet stop moving of their own accord, and Zayd comes to a halt, glancing back at me with his brows raised in a questioning manner.
“You okay, Charity?” I shake my head, but I’m having trouble finding the words to explain. I’ve spent a lot of time with Zayd over the past year, but we’ve never delved into deeper issues. I’ve barely mentioned my mother.
“It’s just … my mom’s here,” I whisper, and Zayd follows my eyes, locating her in the crowd. She looks ridiculous, dressed up in a white fur coat with a hat, like an extra from a made-for-TV movie. With a sigh, I grab Zayd’s hand and pull him down the aisle, pretending I don’t notice her. She waves at me, but I just hope nobody I know sees.
“You’re not cool with your mom?” Zayd asks, but his tone is detached, far away. He’s in another place and another time. Or maybe he’s just tired? We danced until two in the morning last night, and then made out for another hour after that. I have to say, that last hour was my favorite part.
“It’s complicated,” I explain as we take our seats in the front row. Tristan is right next to me, his mouth pressed into a flat line, his skin pale. I knew he was upset last night, but the look on his face now is in a whole other league. Maybe he’s upset because he’s second place to my first? I have no idea.
The ceremony starts, and the teachers take turns making speeches, praising our accomplishments, gently reminding us where we can do better. Awards are given out for sports, clubs, and community service first, lines of
students filing onstage to collect their paper certificates. A huge screen behind them showcases the same awards in digital format.
Academics are last, and when Tristan’s name is called, he grinds his teeth so hard that I’m afraid one’s going to pop right out. He practically storms onstage, bites off a pathetic thank you, and then heads right back to his spot. Across the aisle, I can feel Creed watching me, so I make sure that when I’m called, my chin is high, and my shoulders are back.
My speech is short, but not overly so, and I recite it without even having to read what I wrote. I make eye contact with Dad, Mrs. Amberton, Ms. Felton, anyone but my mother. At the end, she stands up to clap, but I turn away and head back to my seat before I have to see much more of that.
She can’t just abandon me, and then hop back into my life when it’s convenient. No way, not happening.
After the initial ceremony, the choir and orchestra are herded backstage to get ready for our performances.
Zayd kisses me goodbye on the cheek, and then returns to his seat in the audience.
That’s when I first run into trouble.
Harper, Becky, Valentina, Abigail, and a handful of other girls are waiting for me when I head up the steps that lead backstage. Right away, I look around for backup, either one of the boys or a teacher, anyone. But it’s just us.
“We’ve tried to be patient with you,” Harper says, stepping forward. Her makeup and hair are flawless, but the sneer on her perfect lips ruins the practiced pretty she’s trying so hard for. “We gave you a whole year to figure it out, but I guess you’re just too damn stupid.”