Page 9 of The Tattered Gloves
Just as my eyelids were starting to waver, I heard the same voice that was used to greet us moments earlier echo in the old speaker. “On your left.”
My attention piqued, and I watched to see who might come through the door.
Carrying his backpack on one shoulder, like he wasn’t fully committed to the idea of this place yet, I observed the tall stranger as he made his way to the office. Clean-shaven and dressed nicer than any boy I’d ever seen, he waltzed in this fishbowl of a room like he owned it.
“Sam Shepherd! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in class!” the tall blonde nearly gushed, rising up from her computer. Although her words had a note of authority to them, the way they were delivered had the opposite effect.
The boy, Sam, set his backpack down on the ground, placing his elbows on the counter. Giving the woman a dreamy smile, he had her wrapped around his finger in a matter of seconds.
“I’m sorry, June — Mrs. Carrow, I mean. I was helping my father this morning, and time got away from us. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” he said, his words dripping with honey.
“Of course, darling. But, you know, I’ll need a note from your daddy.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of blonde hair. I moved slightly in my seat. Outside the door, ducked down neatly behind the portion of glass where the large side of the counter rested, there was a girl.
A beautiful, normal… about-to-be-in-a-heap-of-trouble girl.
Her eyes caught mine, and I could see her gaze wander over me, trying to place me. When she couldn’t, her finger went to her lips, begging for my silence.
“Do you think I’d show up here, late for school, without a note from my dad?” Sam went on, leaning against the desk. His smile deepened, and soon, he had the entire office captivated.
Oh my gosh, they are working together!
He’d snuck her in, and now, he was carrying on, flirting with the staff and distracting them with his good looks so that the girl could get past undetected.
I didn’t know whether to applaud the pair or turn my head away in disgust.
There must have been some sort of signal I’d missed because, as soon as Sam reached into his pocket to procure the note, he was rambling on, and when all eyes in the office were focused on him, the girl ran out from her spot and darted down the hall.
None the wiser.
I saw the corner of Sam’s smile turn upward.
“Here you are, Mrs. Carrow. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some learning to do.” He tipped his head, pulling at an imaginary hat on his head, as he delivered a cocky grin to the ladies behind the counter before bending down to grab his stuff. Then, he quickly pivoted toward the door, swinging his backpack on his shoulder in one fluid movement.
“That Sam Shepherd, quite the gentleman,” the young lady behind the counter said as she typed away at her computer, hopefully doing something related to me.
I would like to leave this place while I still had the option.
“Too bad about his mother though,” someone in a nearby desk chimed in. “A boy that age needs a little motherly love, you know?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s seen plenty of motherly love pass in and out of the house over the last few years.” June snickered back.
I tried not to stare, and Addy audibly cleared her throat next to me.
Was this how small-town life was always going to be?
I had already been a freak in a city of a million. How would I possibly survive a town of a few thousand where everyone knew everything about everybody, down to their shoe sizes and mating habits?
This office might look like a giant fishbowl, but it turned out, I might be the only fish out of water in this school.
“YOU’VE BARELY TOUCHED your food,” Addy pointed out as we sat, eating lunch at a little cafe in the middle of town.
After registering for classes, she’d made it a point to make sure I got to know my new home, driving back down the main streets before finding somewhere to park. It was a typical September day in Virginia — hot — and as we’d ventured down the sidewalks, tiny beads of sweat had begun to form around my temples while I listened to her describe each place we’d passed.
I knew I was being rude by not listening.
I knew I was being rude by not eating the food she’d bought me, but my mind was somewhere else.
