Page 10 of Unspoken Truths

After looking for love in all the wrong places, I’m happy for her. If it means that I get a better version of my mom back, then I’m even more for it.

I had to walk outside to catch a breath, attempting to let the cooler air calm my nerves. There never seems to be any sun in the sky, the cloud cover heavy enough to let only some filtered rays through. Portland feels so foreign from everything I’ve ever known. At least the beach was there for me when things felt really hopeless.

It’s where I’d escape to after the rape, forcing myself to remember why I needed to stay in the world, not pick up the razor blade that taunted me with relief.

Sometimes it worked, other times I’d still reach for it.

My right hip is a mess of old scars now, a place no one ever sees because my bathing suit bottoms always cover them, and I’m never naked around anyone.

It’s my secret, one of many.

I’m about to begin doing jumping jacks or something to get some of this awful excess energy out when the gates open at the front of the house. All I know is that the girl driving through the gates’ name is Liliana, and Emil promised me she has enough clout to her family name not to bend to the stupid games his son and his friends play.

I’m really hoping so. My face is a mixture of terror and ‘fuck off’ vibes and I take a deep breath to blank my features of any emotion. The sharks circle when you show them blood in the water, and I already did that when I screamed bloody murder on the field yesterday.

I need to give them nothing today, or show them I can take care of myself well enough that they’ll give me a wide berth. I have my backpack, refillable water bottle, and money for lunch, having learned my lesson from yesterday.

The stun gun is also in my pocket, in a special pouch I sewed into it. Being really poor taught me various skills, and I learned how to sew to make things easier. If my socks had a hole, I could fix them, my jeans easily patched. I refuse to forget the lessons my past has taught me, especially the newer ones.

Everyone is an awful person until they prove otherwise.Maybe that’s a terrible thing to think, but it may help me get through the next two and half years of school.

Then, maybe I can go to school and actually figure out my life.

The window rolls down as I stand in the driveway, a perfectly arched brow raised as the girl gazes at me.

“Are you going to get in, or stare at me?” she asks.

“Stare until I get an introduction,” I state. “I’m definitely going to go with that one.”

“Shit,” she mutters. “I’m so sorry. I’m Liliana Cruz, and I swear my manners aren’t usually this awful. Please don’t tell Mr. Emil. He’s trusting me with you.”

“At least someone trusts you,” I sigh, opening the passenger door. “I’m Rachelle.”

Dropping my bag on the floorboard, I get into the sexy, low slung car. It looks expensive and beautiful, much like the girl driving it. Liliana has shiny dark brown hair that is curled away from her face, wide caramel eyes, and is wearing subtle makeup to match her vibe.

I feel completely frumpy next to her as I shut the door behind me.

“That’s how it’s going to be?” Liliana asks, her finger on the button to roll up the window when Emil steps outside the front door.

“You two have a good day,” he says, his hazel eyes stern as he gazes at us. “Please make sure to show Rachelle the ropes. If she returns home with a single hair out of place, I will be very unhappy.”

My lips part in surprise because holy shit, he means business and is pretty scary right now. The garage door opens in front of us, and a sleek dark blue Lambo streaks out into the dreary day.

The door opens fully seconds before Ignacio gets there, allowing him passage through. The amount of money these people have is insane.

“Yes, sir,” Liliana says brightly, though her voice has a slight tremble in it. “Have a good day, I’ll take care of her.”

Practically punching the window button to close it, she takes a shaky breath as she puts the car in drive.

“I wasn’t at school yesterday, so I have no idea what happened,” she says slowly. “I have to assume that something did, but Mr. Emil turned into the scary man usually only my dad has to deal with. I’m too young to be a flesh puppet, Rachelle, so start talking.”

“I just had a really rough day,” I murmur, staring at my unpainted nails. Liliana’s are long, black claws, something I’m sure I saw were against school dress code. Maybe the rules only apply to certain people?

“Please elaborate so I know what I’m walking into,” Liliana insists as she drives through the open gates.

If she’s helping me on my stepfather’s orders, then I have to at least be willing to throw her a bone. It doesn’t mean I trust her.

“It was my first day of school at Carlysle, despite the fact that I’ve been in Portland for a month,” I explain. “I’ve been vying to go to school at the public school, but Emil won’t budge. He wants me to give it another try.”

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