Page 19 of The Favorite Girl

I supposed that meant yes. I couldn’t help but do a little dance and excitedly cheer out loud.

Bradley slapped his hand across my mouth, shocking me completely. My eyes protruded with the pressure he placed.

“Are you insane?” he seethed. “You must not have read the contract properly. We do not speak above a hushed tone.”

Peeling his fingers off of my mouth, I looked at him and pointed my finger in his face.

“If you touch me like that again, I’ll bite your fingers off,” I gritted out in a whisper. “I hope you heard me, because I won’t repeat myself.”

I pulled my shoes off as Bradley backed away and dropped his eyes to the floor. Neatly lining the shoes Raina gave me by the door, I slid on the thick, padded slippers.

Without another word, I walked through the door and it automatically closed behind me. This time my shoes made no sound, the door didn’t, and suddenly I began blending in. Finally, alone, I looked around the room. It resembled one of those cruise ship rooms—extremely small with a circular window. I walked closer to the window and saw nothing but dense trees for miles. I must have had a room on the side of the estate or perhaps the back. The bed was a twin, and of course, in all white. And above the bed was one framed image of a pale pink peony flower, which brought me some kind of happiness. Walking into the bathroom, I glanced around. I didn’t know how they let the hint of pink slide in from the peony without a full-blown panic attack, but I started to laugh as I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

“They let a brown girl in with jet black hair.” I chuckled.

‘I miss you, sissy.’ The smile on my face melted as I heard her voice and flung around.

She’s not here. She’s gone. She’s dead. Because of you. You didn’t protect her, Demi. It’s all your fault.

“I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t save us both.” Tears streamed down my cheeks as I clenched my eyes shut.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” My heart ached as I pictured my beautiful sister. She was older than me, but it was still my job to protect her. Our parents said they’d come get us when the loan was paid off. They said they’d save us. But they didn’t. Years passed and they never came. I had to do what I needed to in order to escape.

I had to stop this. If I showed the Ivory family signs of being mentally ill or unstable, they’d definitely fire me. I couldn’t lose this job. I could do it for a few years, save up every penny, and then maybe I’d really go to college. I could get a degree and then make a life for myself. Maybe, I could get married. And while I never wanted to have kids, marriage seemed nice. A companion to be with every day. Someone to drain out the racing thoughts and suffocating solitude I pretended I was fine with.

Quivering, I realized that I really needed to get ready, but I didn’t have anything to wear. I didn’t bring a bag or a suitcase—and the little amount of stuff I had was with Raina. Speaking of, would I get to leave tonight to see her? I mean, this wasn’t a prison; this was my employer’s home, and I could leave when I wanted to.

The shower was narrow but pristine. Bottles with small labels were drilled into the wall—shampoo, conditioner, soap. This was like a luxury hotel. There was a toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste on the vanity, but none of it had flashy brand labels, not even the toothpaste. It was all in matching cream-colored tubes and bottles with tiny labels of what the product was.

Damn, to have this level of money and time. I smiled and quickly tugged off Raina’s outfit, hanging it on the hook behind the door. Turning the shower on, I opened my palm to wait until it warmed for me to get inside.

“Ah,” I groaned as the hot water pellets beat against my fatigued body. Sleeping on benches, shitty motel mattresses, and under bridges had taken a toll on my body. I didn’t feel nineteen; I felt eighty. Cracking my neck on both sides, I savored the fact that I didn’t have to worry about how much this shower would cost me. I didn’t have to worry about washing my body in some gas station sink or using a water bottle to splash under my armpits. I could just bathe myself.

Pumping shampoo into my hand, I took a sniff of it—not scented. Rubbing it into my thick, unruly hair, I thought about how Dr. and Mrs. Ivory were probably those people who knew fragrances caused illness and whatnot.

It made sense. It all made sense. Or at least desperation had me colorblind to any red flags.

The thing about everything fitting too perfectly together is that it really means jagged pieces were shaved down to fit so perfectly. It means the rough edges were smoothed down and hidden away.

Because there is no such thing as perfect. And sometimes the more perfect something seems; the more secrets are hidden away.

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

I took the longest shower of my life. Once wrapped up and out of the bathroom, I put lotion on and dabbed the steam away from the bathroom mirror.

I looked and felt clean. A simple human state that most people never really even give a second thought about. For me, I think the last time I was this clean was when I was fourteen—before I was taken, before I escaped and became homeless. A glaze of grime always seemed to plague me and dirt under my nails that couldn’t be washed away. The worst was when I was on my period. It was comical to think I’d ever be able to afford sanitary pads or tampons. No, instead I’d have to stuff my hoodie pockets with enough toilet paper and rip up my shirts to make into makeshift pads. I always wondered in those moments that if men were the ones getting periods, we’d definitely have free supplies. Women, no, we were inferior.

Just to stay sanitary, I was expected to shell out ten dollars for a small box of pads that would only last me a month. Poverty is a bitch, but I was born into it and not knowing what I didn’t have actually protected me.

But now I’m going to turn my life around. I’m going to fight for a future and make sure I don’t mess up this golden opportunity. I pumped some face cream onto my face and combed my hair before brushing my teeth. Widening my mouth, I cringed at the yellow tint and chips that lined each tooth. Conrad must have been repulsed. Sometimes I forgot that this— who I was—wasn’t normal.

I shook my head in disbelief that I even allowed myself to flirt with him. How could I embarrass myself like that? How could I disrespect him that way?

Walking back through the small doorway, I glanced around and opened the small armoire. It was empty, except for one stunning, silk white gown, and in a small basket on a shelf, there was a pair of matching gloves.

Wasn’t the dinner just at the house with the family? I looked around the room but had no one to ask. I definitely didn’t know my way around and couldn’t risk getting lost, and in return, be late for creepy Bradley to ‘collect’ me. My hair was wrapped in a towel, and I decided I probably should get dressed. I didn’t see a blow dryer or anything to help tame my hair beyond a brush—I didn’t even have a hair tie. This wasn’t good. My thick, black hair would air dry into what would resemble a lion’s mane.

---