Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Yep. I’m at the right place. Then why is no one here? I look up and down the crowded hall, when I finally see a tall, lanky guy with a tweed jacket and glasses perched on his nose approach me.
Something in me grows sad. I’ve never asked Bailey anything about her teachers. I don’t know what they look like, who’s nice, what they wear or how they treat her. I glance at her grades, but they’re good, and I’ve never done anything beyond that.
Her whole life has changed, and I don’t even realize until her teacher opens the classroom door, that I’ve failed her. Like I fail everyone. Marla tonight, because I had to bail on my shift. Ben, because he’s been asking me to play a game of chess for a damn month.
I have no time. How can I do everything that I’m supposed to?
I blame the hunger for making my eyes water. This is so stupid. I shake my head and enter the classroom.
“Hi,” I say brightly, extending my hand. The teacher takes it and shakes.
“Hi,” he says. “You do know this is parent-teacher night, right? Students aren’t supposed to be here.”
My traitorous pale cheeks flame. “I’m—I’m guardian to Bailey Myers,” I tell him.
Frowning, he pulls out a paper on his desk and looks at it. “I see. Forgive me, Ms…”
“Cora Myers,” I supply.
“Forgive me, Ms. Myers, but you look a bit young to be guardian to a young woman in high school.”
“Of course,” I say, my temperature rising. “I have custody of Bailey after the death of my mother. And I came here tonight to touch base with each of her teachers. Do you have any concerns?”
I want to leave. I hate how little he makes me feel, like I’m barely old enough to know my ABC’s, much less raise a teenager.
And hell, if he isn’t right.
We talk about Bailey and her grades, but before I leave, he apparently thinks it’s his duty to give me a little advice.
Lucky me.
“I admire your courage, Ms. Myers,” he tells me. “It’s difficult at your age to make the right decisions.”
“It’s difficult at any age to make the right decisions,” I reply. I hate when people look down on me because of my age. My mother made shit decisions, and she was a lot older than I am. Gathering up my papers and bag with a smile plastered to my face, I get up to leave. It’s none of his damn business.
“Certainly,” he says with a nod. “Just be sure you don’t make a decision that will jeopardize what matters to you.”
Who the hell is he?
I finally leave his class and look in chagrin at my sheet. There are two more classes I need to visit, and he’s waiting for me. In his private car. What sort of bizarre situation is this?
I don’t even know his name.
God. How can I not even know his name? I need to find out who he is.
For a minute, I contemplate running. Going out the back door and catching a cab to Verge and leaving Mr. High and Mighty to his own devices. But then I think better of it. I don’t need to make any enemies.
I go through the motions for the next classes and wish I didn’t have to work tonight. I want to go home and see Bailey and Ben. Play that game of chess with Ben and talk to Bailey about meeting all her teachers, which one’s funny, which one’s grumpy, and how her math teacher is really kinda cute. But I can’t. I have to work again, and God if that doesn’t burn.
So, by the time I go outside, I half expect the stranger to be gone, but he isn’t. The black car still waits for me. I feel a bit like Cinderella making my way toward him. Any minute, the clock will strike midnight, and the car turn into an enchanted pumpkin.
I’m lightheaded with hunger, and tired. I’ve done so much today already, I’m exhausted.
Food will be good. I just have to play nice for a little while. I can’t let my mouth ruin everything, like I usually do.
When I reach the car, I tap on the window awkwardly. What else am I supposed to do? I blink to myself when Manuel comes to my side of the car, bows, and opens the door for me.
“Thank you,” I murmur, before I slide myself into the car.
“Took a while,” he mutters, glancing at that god-awful Rolex.
“Well, she’s taking six classes,” I say. “And the school’s big. You didn’t have to wait.”
He frowns and issues a command to the driver.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask him. “And… um… one more question.”
Turning to face me with those vibrant blue eyes locked on mine, he quirks a lip up at me. “Yeah?”