Page 59 of Wicked Proposal
My place, 3 P.M.,I type.Ghost me and the deal’s off.
Then I put my phone on silent.
“Mommy?” Eli whispers as we head out. “Are those spies?”
“Not at all.” I force a smile. “Just… new friends.”
I calm myself on the drive to the Upper East Side. Rhonda the Honda splutters and splatters, echoing my state of mind.
Yulian—how dare he? How dare he put my building, myfamily,under surveillance?
I may have promised him my soul, but my freedom stays mine.
When we get out of the car, Eli’s eyes go wide. “Thisis my new school?”
“Could be.” I take him by the hand and lead him through the gates of Rainbow Infinity. “If we like it.”
With every step we take, his eyes grow wider. I can’t blame him—this place looks nothing like Happy Hares. That school looked like it was held together with spit and plaster.
But this?
White walls. Green gardens. Clean corridors. The outside looks like a miniature college campus—and the inside? It’s like those blonde-wood-and-lush-green-plants millennial offices using bouncy balls as desk chairs.
“Ms. Winters!” A smiling, middle-aged man comes to greet me. “I’m Principal Garcia. So glad you could make it.” His eyes crinkle as he crouches down. “And this young knight must be Eli.”
Eli nods, not quite meeting Mr. Garcia’s gaze, but Mr. Garcia doesn’t look put off in the slightest. He doesn’t try to touch him or invade his personal space in any way. Just gets back up with the same benevolent smile and says, “You’re right on time for our mid-morning snack.”
We’re shown into a big, bright room. I leave Eli to the care of a Ms. Lawrence and the attention of eleven curious pairs of eyes.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” I tell him.
“Okay, Mommy.”
Then I follow Mr. Garcia into his office. Again, I’m amazed at how well the walls are holding up.
“Coffee?” he offers. “Water?”
“Water would be great, thanks.”
He gives me a glass with cucumber in it. I almost want to cry—everything here is so damnnice.Is this what it’s like to be rich?
Mr. Garcia gives me the gist of the school: stimulating activities, Montessori method, the whole shebang. When I ask about their handling of AuADHD kids, he seems perfectly at ease. He assures me every teacher has specialized training in neurodiversity, as well as diversity training in general.
“We want this school to be a safe space,” he explains. “Here, you’re met with acceptance and support, no matter your needs. We also have zero tolerance for bullying.”
Tears prickle at my eyes. Mr. Garcia discreetly slides a box of tissues over to me. “Diane is a dear friend of mine. She mentioned you’ve both been through a lot.”
“Yeah,” I rasp. “It’s, uhh—it’s been a bit of a ride.”
“You’re safe here,” he assures me. “Both of you.”
Safe.
What a concept.
“It’s wonderful,” I laugh, my voice wobbling a bit too hard. “This place. It’s—it’s a dream.”
“But an expensive one,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.
