Page 32 of Brat Baby
A delivery?
My feet immediately carry me toward the door, and I’m yanking it open before I remember I’m in nothing but a towel. Oh well.
The girl on the other side lets out a little squeak at seeing my undressed state and then shoves a blue-teal gift bag, not much larger than my phone, at me. “This is for Emery.”
Before I can thank her, she turns tail and runs down the staircase.
Whoops.
Wordlessly, I close the door and turn back to Oakley.
“Another reward?”
I nod, staring at it. It barely weighs anything.
“How many are you up to?” she asks as she crosses over to me before letting out a high-pitched squeal. “Oh my god! That’s from Tiffany’s!”
Fuck. Even I know what that is.
Oakley flaps her hands in front of me, eyes a little wild. “Open it!”
“Okay, okay,” I mutter and undo the ribbons on the bag to get to the matching little blue-teal box on the inside. I hand Oakley the box before pulling on the white satin ribbon holding the box shut and raise the lid.
My heart is in my throat as I stare down at the little silver heart, with an equally small silver key hanging off the side.
Please return to Tiffany & Co. New York 925
I stare at the engraved lettering. A tiffany necklace. They got me a Tiffany necklace.
“Well?” Oakley’s impatience takes over and she angles the box in my hand to see. “The heart tag and key? Ems!”
What the hell is the symbolism with the pendant? A heart and key—as in, I have the key to their heart or some shit?
What the fuck?
I swallow and close the lid, eyes prickling with tears. “This is too much. I’m sending it back.”
“The fuck you are!” Oakley snatches the box from my hand and hugs it to her chest. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are narrowed with frustration. “No. You earned this. And if you aren’t able to keep it for yourself right now, I’m going to put it in my room until you are ready. I won’t allow you to send it back.”
My lower lip trembles as I try to breathe. “Why are they doing this to me? These random gifts showing up every day or two? There are still eight more to go. I wish they would stop. I wish they would let me go.”
Oakley’s stance softens, and she puts the bag and box on the table before wrapping me up in her arms. “I don’t know, maybe they don’t actually want to give you up? Maybe they want to keep you but don’t know how? They are professors, Ems. They can’t be with a student.”
I sniff and wrap my arms around her, too, overwhelmed and so goddamn confused. “I know, but there are too many reminders of them now. Every day, I wear the clothes they bought me. I use the laptop and phone they bought me. Even my art supplies are from them. Everything I have right now is because of them. It’s too much.”
Tears track down my cheeks and my chest aches.
Oakley holds me while the TV rattles on about some new movie coming out. I think about what she said. Could this really be their way of keeping me, even from a distance? Have they realized that I didn’t lie to them? That they never asked if I was a student? Have they forgiven me but don’t know how to walk it back?
Is this their way of showing up for me, after everything they said? Of letting me know they are still in this?
Darcy could have canceled the restaurant.
Xavier could have stopped caring about how my marks were healing.
Only Hudson and Derek knew I didn’t have a laptop, so one of them had to have organized that.
And someone had to have looked at my student file a little too closely to figure out where to keep sending everything. An absolutely giant rule to break.
