Chapter Twenty-Three: "An Unexpected Face."
THE DAY flew by rather quickly.
Now I was in my last class, waiting for the bell to ring.
I get a message from my Best New Friend as she likes to put it, saying that she'll come swing by Atticus' after our session.
Carly added her number into my phone first period, so her, Atticus and I were laughing over silly things we were texting each other for the seventy five minutes we had to spend.
I text her a quick reply back, and grab my chemistry books. Atticus comes up and leans against the locker next to mine as he waits patiently.
"So what all do I need to bring?" I ask.
He shrugs. "Just bring your binder. I'm sure I have a textbook at my place."
"Okay." I nod, and grab my binder. I slam my locker door shut and follow my chemistry partner as he leads us to the bus. We board first, and take our seats as we wait for everyone else. I throw my bag and binder alongside Atticus' on the seat behind us.
Ten minutes later, the bus is loaded and we're off. We're in a comfortable silence as we wait for kids to get to their stops, and about twenty minutes pass before it stops again.
"This is us, Sweetheart." Atticus says, getting up from the seat as the vehicle comes to a holt. I nod, turning around and grabbing my belongings.
I catch Landon's eye, but remain emotionless as he stares at me in shock, confusion, and I think anger and disappointment. I blink, turning around and Atticus grabs my bag for me.
"Thanks." I say quietly. He smiles in response as I get off, following down his long driveway. Once we reach the house, my mouth drops. It's a beautiful black and grey house, but not dark enough where it's sketchy and eerie. There's two large french doors, and it's exterior is coated in windows like Ella's. There's one big barn that's located about a hundred meters away from the house, and I notice that Atticus' house is right across the lake from mine.
Atticus turns around and gives me a grin, shaking his head for me to come. I walk faster, catching up to him as he opens the door.
The house is just as gorgeous inside as it is out.
The ceilings show up to the second floor, with a big chandelier hanging down to illuminate the room, but lets in plenty of natural light.
Looking down and in front of me, the whole main floor is open concept; I can see the backyard from the front door. The kitchen is to my right, with a humongous white quartz island smack dab in the center, stainless steel appliances, and three stovesâtwo baking ovens and one huge gas one that restaurants use. The cabinetry is glass and white, with a lot of cupboards and stuff. The dining room is right behind it with a six man table.
The living room is to my left, with beautiful modern but country-styled furniture, with a horse clock. The fireplace is gorgeous, with large stones scattered around it, with a huge flatscreen on the wall above it.
For the dark setting, I can't help but let Atticus' house feel really homey. Honestly, I feel more at home here than I did when I first walked into the McGibbon household.
"It's beautiful," I say in awe, taking it all in. I glance around at family portraits that are stood on glass shelves and the walls.
"If you see anything sparkly, it's my mom," he says awkwardly. "I promise."
I chuckle, and continue walking around as Atticus tosses my bag on his couch. "Hungry?" He asks as he heads to the kitchen and opens up the fridge.
"Nâno, I'm alright thanks." I say softly.
"You sure?" He presses, looking at me curiously.
"Yeah." I assure him.
His eyes turn mischievous. "Not even a tiny bit?"
I raise a brow. "No."
"A microscopic amount?"
"Nope." I grin, popping the 'p'.
"What about for a fudge pop?" He smirks. "Can't turn one of those down, Sweetheart."
I draw in air through my teeth. "I guess you're right." I smile. "Just one."
He smirks in victory and opens the bottom freezer compartment, pulling out two fudge bars and handing me one. I say my thanks and he winks before taking the garbage off me and tossing it away.
We sit in silence, eating away at the cold snack before Atticus turns to me. "Where do you want to start?" He asks.
"What?"
"On your chemistry," he says it like it's obvious.
"Oh." I sigh. "Right. Ugh, I don't know. The beginning?"
He chuckles, and pulls my bag and book onto his lap, going through my notes. He reads through a couple pages, and I watch as his eyes grow confused, amused, and mischievous as he goes through each page.
"Sweetheart, there's more talking on these pages than there is any actual notes," he points out, laughing. I frown, knowing that's probably true. "Why are you recording everything Ms. Ox says? She speaks alien."
Damn right she does! Some of the things that come out of her mouth is complete gibberish. Half of the things she says I probably spelled wrong. I sigh, and hide my face in my hair. "I'm still learning terms."
He gives me a lost look. "What do you mean?"
I shrug. "I don't know. A lot of the things I just can't interpret and she says them so fast my mind can't wrap around it. I'm still learning bigger words and I keep changing them and losing focus."
"Do you have like, ADD or something? Attention issues?"
Now I give the lost look. "No? Or at least I don't think so? I have English issues."
"I'm still confused."
"I don't know if you can tell by my voice or not, but I'm not from here."
"Yeah, that part I caught onto," he chuckles, his voice coming out so smooth. So sexy. "So whereabouts are you from?"
"Mexico."
His eyes light up. "Well, that explains the sloppy writing errors, the muttering under your breath in class and the cute accent you have."
Cute. He just called me cute! Well, my accent, but my accent is apart of me so that means I'm cute!
Right?
"I guess it does, yeah?" I say sheepishly.
"Definitely." He winks.
***
"So wait, I've been doing this wrong all along?" I gasp in realization.
"I guess you have." Atticus chuckles.
I sigh heavily, but then another realization hits me and I gasp, slapping his arm. "I've been doing this wrong for the past two weeks and you just sat there and watched me make a fool out of myself?"
He rubs his shoulder where I hit him, smirks, then starts snickering. "Why would I correct you? I have a rep too, Sweetheart. And besides, how could I interrupt your subtitles of the teacher when you always have that cute little wrinkle in your eyebrows when you're very focused?"
"I still don't understand how me, a genius, is so stupid." I mutter under my breath with a growl.
"You're getting an English tutor, too, right?" He lightly laughs, and I glare at him.
"Shut up."
I heard a door open, and I look at Atticus confusedly. He furrows his eyebrows, shrugs, and slowly gets up.
I begin to get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Atticus seemed just as confused as I was, and this only gives me flashbacks.
The sneaking around.
The breaking in.
The bullets.
"What are you guys doing back here?" I hear Atticus ask from across the room. I turn around and follow him, and see a tall woman with dirty blonde hair in a pantsuit and heels walking into the house.
I raise my eyebrows as Atticus used the plural form, and I don't see the other person. As I walk deeper into the house, my answer is given, and my mouth literally drops and cracks on the floor.
She was the doctor.
Who put my cast on.
The first time.
At the fucking prison!
Oh my God. . . she's the prison doctor.
"Shit, shit, shit! Oh my God, I'm so caught. I need to get out of here!" I cuss and curse to myself as I start to begin hyperventilating.
I cannot let Atticus see that I'm an ex-prisoner. It may have been for a stupid reason, but if I was in prison once, what's going to stop him or whoever else from doing background checks? Besides, this doctor has to know that I was in the Pen before that.
Crap, I'm so done if I get thrown down that path.
"Atticus, honey, is there someone else here?" The woman in the pantsuit asks. Luckily, I've noticed them and they have yet to notice me.
"Um, just a student of mine, but if you're home I can send them on their way?" He replies nervously. I'm biting my lip so hard, I might be drawing blood. My hands are starting to shake vigorously and I'm so glad I'm not holding anything.
"No, no, it's okay! Have them stay for dinner." She says warmly. She sounds so nice. "Is it a he or a she?"
"A she?" He says uneasily.
"Atticus!" My doctor exclaims. "Don't leave her waiting!"
"Okay, okay!" He chuckles. "May!" He hollers out.
Crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap! I groan and slowly make my way out of the kitchen where I ran off to. Atticus meets me halfway where we're in private and he frowns at my composure.
"May, are you okay?" He questions.
I gulp. "What? Oh! Um, yeah. I'm just. . . ugh. . . nausea is all, I'm perfectly fine. Great!"
"Are you nervous, Sweetheart?" He smirks in amusement.
"What? Is it that easy to tell?"
He laughs. "Relax. It's totally fine. They're harmless."
For now, I think to myself.
Nonetheless, I nod, and slowly walk into the living room where the two women are sat, talking to each other in quiet conversation.
That is, until I enter the room and get noticed.
I look at the woman in the pantsuit first. She's so pretty; eyes green and face heart-shapedâbeautiful. Her lips part as she looks at me with the biggest of smiles.
"Oh Atticus darling, she's gorgeous!" She gasps, and my cheeks immediately heat up, and I give her a small smile.
Atticus grins at her, and gestures to the two. "Guys, this is Brooklyn May, my chemistry partner and student."
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. O'Connor." I say shyly. Not just because meeting the parents is a nervous setting, but because I am a naturally shy person, and the woman who saved my life is standing two feet away from me.
"Nonsense, call me Maggie." She smiles. I nod, and finally turn my attention to Dr. Mathers.
She's a brunette, with her hair in a bun like she usually wore it at the prison. Her brown eyes burned into mine like fire, and currently, is speechless. Her readable emotions are all over the place: scared, tired, shocked, angry.
I was a good patient; I don't know if those feelings are directed to me.
They probably are.
"May, this my mom Margaret, but she goes by Maggie. And this is my other momâ"
"Caroline," I whisper, still unable to understand if this is actually happening to me right now; that my doctor for a week was standing in front of me and is the mother of my chemistry partner and possible friend.
Wait!
Mom?
He has two moms? But how didâoh goodness. This can't be good. Caroline was a nice doctor, but she was probably only like that because I was injured. I can't even imagine how mad she must be knowing that I'm in her house right now.
"How did you know her name?" Atticus asks confusedly.
"What?" I say, finally getting out of trance. Yeah, this is definitely happening right now, crap. "Oh, um. Weâsheâ"
"I treated her," she interrupts suddenly.
"But you're a prison doctor," Atticus says, and suddenly gasps. Shit. "Oh God."
"No, honey," Caroline says quickly. "Not in that way."
He looks at me while I avert my eyes to Caroline. She's glaring at me, but gives me barely a nod when I send pleading eyes. If Atticus was to ever find out, the last person I want to tell him would be herâI'd tell him myself.
"Thenâ" he starts to argue again, but I stop him.
"I was jumped." I say, barely above a whisper. I can tell him the truth to a degree, but I'm not lying; I'm simply leaving out a few minor details.
Okay, humongous, major details, but he doesn't need to know that. Yet.
The memories of that night come back to me as I said those words. It was probably the scariest night of my life; and I had some pretty horrific nights when I was with Taylor.
Atticus looks at his mom for confirmation, and to my luck, Caroline nods. I haven't really paid that much attention to Maggie since I've been brought up, but she seems to be pitying me. I mean, visibly, I look pretty harmless and 'puppy adorable'. Who would want to inflict pain on someone who is so innocent? Well, here's why.
To the public eye, I am still cute and harmless. I wouldn't hurt a fly, and I'm too small to inflict much damage if I even tried; that maybe a baby bruise is the best I can do given my physical appearance. Deep down, underneath my acting, I amâregrettablyâcapable of many things, and I'm smart and sneaky. I hide behind masks all the time to stay isolated so nobody knows what really happens behind closed doors or walls, and I think of things that nobody would even want to think about for a second.
Honestly, I've gone through so much; so many mood changes, I'm starting to confuse myself. Am I actually a nice and pretty girl? Or am I the devil I considered myself to be the moment I said yes to Taylor? Am I both?
God, I need to sit down and have a serious discussion with myself; this is ridiculous.
Feeling the atmosphere shift, I come to conclusions that I should probably go home.
Clearing my throat, I grab everyone's attention. "I think I should go." I say softly.
"That isn't necessary, honey," Maggie says. "You're welcome to stay for dinner."
"Thank you, butâ"
"You should stay." Atticus and Caroline say at the same time. Caroline is giving me a look that screams explaining, while Atticus probably just wants my attention.
I sigh. "Alright, I'll stay."
***
"So, Brooklyn, where are you from?" Maggie asks, taking a drink of her wine. We've finished eating dinner, which was just cannelloni. It was actually quite delicious, Caroline is a really good cook.
"Mexico and Los Angeles," I answer. "I moved to California when I was a baby, but then moved back. We stayed in my native country up until I was twelve, where my parents decided to permanently live in the States."
"I must say, your accent is beautiful." She smiles.
"Thank you." I say with a blush.
"I agree," Atticus adds. "It really is, May."
I give him a grin and look down at my plate, which is empty. I've been improving more and more with my eating habits since I moved, and I got to say, I'm so proud of myself. Back home, with the hatred from Stacy and all my ex-friends, I would have never been able to change my diet and stick to it. I'd still take everything to heart, but maybe since I'm on my own around here, I can make a difference. Do what's best for me and how I'm comfortable with how I look and feel to myself. I deserve it at least; I may not deserve a lot of things, but self-appreciation and acceptance should definitely be one.
"Thanks, Atticus."
We continue talking for a while, and before I know it, it's already nine at night.
I got a message from Carly saying that she got grounded and wouldn't be able to swing by because her car got taken away, and was going on about feeling bad for me not having a ride home and Atticus having his license suspended or something, so he couldn't either. I kept telling her to not worry about it considering I live near Atticus, and a lot closer than she probably thinks.
I sigh, knowing I should probably start walking now since it'll be a half hour walk because I have to walk around the lake.
I don't want to go back; Atticus and his mom's are so nice, even if Caroline is only acting for her partner and son's sake. I couldn't blame her, but it was still nice feeling welcomed. It wasn't a feeling I felt in Ella's house on my first day.
"It's getting late, I should get going. It's a long walk." I say softly, standing up from the couch and gathering my stuff together.
"I can drive you," Atticus suggests.
"No!" Maggie exclaims. "You are not! You still have a few more days, mister."
"Right." He grumbles. He turns back around to face me, and gives me a strong look. "Message me when you're home?"
"Of course." I promise. "Thank you so much for having me over." I say to his mothers, giving them smiles.
"It's our pleasure, Brooklyn. See you soon." Maggie responds.
"I'll drive you home," Caroline speaks up, and I snap my head over to her.
"Oh no, you don't have to do thatâ"
"There's bears out here at night, Brooklyn, you're not walking."
"Butâ"
"I'm not treating you again." She says sternly, and I sigh, nodding.
I enter her car, hopping into the passenger seat. Placing my bag on the ground, Caroline pulls out and starts driving the way back to the house.
After a few minutes, she speaks up. "I don't want to see you in there again, do you understand me?"
I face her, looking confused. She doesn't want me in her house anymore? Wow, first impressions were awful. "What?"
"I saw what those girls did to you, Brooklyn. I know what prison inmates do to their peers, and I don't ever want to see you in that facility wearing a uniform ever again, you hear?"
"Yes, I do." I nod.
"What were you in there for anyway?" She grumbles.
"Obstruction, and underage drinking. And public intoxication." I say, listing off the reasons why I was there in the first place, though thankfully I only got sent into prison for an obstruction offense, and charged for the others. I don't really feel a need to hide anything from her since she's the government and probably knows why a lot of girls are in there for. I remember going in, barely conscious yet I was screaming in horror, and she seemed so surprised to see me. She gave me a look and started talking to me, in a voice and way that made it seem like I wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. She told me it was like she was seeing a puppy go to jail for doing something bad, and then got kicked by a bastard.
She said that I shouldn't be in prison. That I had a better future that didn't revolve around the facility. That I was better than this; smarter.
It took me a long time to realize that she was right.
"You're a smart girl, Brooklyn. I don't know what drove you to make those kind of decisions, but I'm sure you're better than you were, and that hopefully in time, you can tell your story and you'll explain when you're ready."
"You'll be surprised," I whisper. "It's not something that's easy to share. It was the worst time in my life, Dr. Mathers."
"How was that?" She questions softly and curiously.
I shrug, giving her a sad smile. "I was a very bad kid last year. I made horrible choices that gave me extreme consequences. I've ruined lives, I've hurt people, and I lost myself. Who I was; what the real me was like. I became trouble. I'm a genius for crying out loud! I changed my ways to become better but nothing ever worked! Things got worse and I kept lowering my self-esteem day by stinking day." I'm tugging at my hair, scoffing at the memories of how absolutely stupid I was. I thought I was doing what I did for a good cause; turns out the good cause was leading towards the worst consequences.
I shake my head sadly as we pull down the driveway. I see Thomas' car not in the drive so I assume he's working late, but I see a body outside.
Caroline comes to a stop, but I make no signs of moving. "Three months of freedom before I wound up in the same place that I was trying to avoid." I don't notice I'm crying until Caroline's hand reaches out and wipes my face clear.
"Well, now you have a goal. You went there; don't come back. You know firsthand what those girls are like, don't do something that will make you be with them for the rest of your life."
"Thank you," I sniffle. "For helping me; for saving my life."
"Don't thank me for something you deserve, honey." She tells me. "Now go get some sleep, I'll see you soon."
I nod, wiping my face with my arm and getting out. I'm about to walk away when she calls me.
"Yes?"
"How's the arm?" She asks.
I shrug. "I had to get it re-casted a couple weeks after getting it. It's fine, just really itchy."
She nods. "We'll talk about it some other time, okay?"
"Yeah." I sigh heavily, dragging myself to the door. Lance is stood there, blocking the porch. "Move please."
"Brooklyn, we need to talk." He says sternly.
"Sure. But not tonight." I tell him tiredly.
"This is serious, Brooklyn."
"Look, I'm tired, and I'm not in the best mood, alright? Now leave me alone, Lance. I don't want to talk to you or anyone else for that matter."
I push him out of my way with strength I don't often use, and he stumbles back, grabbing onto the wall to stabilize himself. I walk inside, saying goodnight to Ella as she waves at me with a smile, and race up to my room.
Not even five minutes after getting into my nightwear, I'm drifted off to sleep.