Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (3 page)

Ezra doesn’t shake Ade’s hand or touch her in any other way to avoid encouraging her. He just smiles at her kindly as she rambles on embarrassingly. She has a tendency to do that when she’s nervous. He does, however, rest his hand on Cort’s back. The boy leans into the touch and my eyes widen. No freaking way!

The brightness in my best friend’s eyes lets me know she has a huge crush on Ezra and I don’t have the heart to tell her that she isn’t his type. Where I come from
you’re observant or you could get mugged. Here in the land of opportunity you don’t notice anything you don’t want to see. I’m sure deep-down she knows he’s gay, but she’s in denial. Probably the rich would marry anyway- maybe that’s what she’s hoping for. We’re too young to worry about that kind of thing, but many of my classmates are already betrothed. It’s not a love match; it’s a business merger.

“We should mingle some. We can’t stand here with these graduates. Sadly
, these lovely ladies won’t be here with us next year.” Ezra says to Cort as he squeezes his shoulder affectionately. Both boys blaze brilliant smiles at me, flashing their pearly, bright teeth. The smile Ezra gives Ade is fond, whereas Cort’s is a bearing of teeth. I bet he doesn’t like her looking at his guy like that.  

Her thin lips stretch across her face in a huge grin. She tosses her shoulder-length blonde hair trying to bring attention to it. I’
d been meaning to tell her it’s time for a freshen-up on her roots, but now is definitely not the time. Ade’s severely vain. I don’t want to ruin her moment. I don’t have the guts to tell her the truth. 

I watch the boys approach the table Fate and Faith are sitting at. Both girls give them a half a second look to see who it is and go back to chatting. They aren’t impressed. Most of these kids have grown up together since birth. It’s too much like siblings to get excited over one another.

“I’m going to marry him someday,” she declares. “My father has been negotiating with his mother for me.” Her eyes glaze over with want. I don’t know if she wants Ezra as a person or just wants to know she can acquire him.

“Doesn’t he get a choice?” I ask in disgust. I have more freedom as poor white trash than these rich children have. I’d rather be poor than owned.

“No he doesn’t. We marry who our parents tell us to. I was smarter than my brother, Grant. I picked who I wanted and told Daddy. He waited too long and didn’t get to pick.” She responds like this is normal and perfectly acceptable behavior. The world doesn’t operate like this and she is ignorant to that fact.

“What if you pick som
eone and your parents say no?”

“You have to trust
that your parents know better than you do. If he says no then it isn’t a good match. Daddy said it was a perfect match for me and Ezra. Ezra’s mother, Diane, is excited as well. She hasn’t told him. We have to wait for him to grow up some.” She preens like a bird under the parental praise.

“What about Cort?” The looks he keeps tossing Ade’s way
scream that he’s planning her demise and enjoying the thought.

“He’s
a nobody. His mom just died. She was Diane’s best friend. They fed from her hand and now she has taken in the orphan. It’s disgusting that Cort’s family was looking for a handout, but it was very sweet that Diane would be so charitable. She’s an incredible woman. I would be proud to call her my mother-in-law.” The haughty tone in Ade’s voice deepens as she speaks. I do love her, but she’s the most pretentious person on the planet.

“No, not marry Cort. What about Cort if you try to marry Ezra? They look like a package deal.” I say about the obvious couple. Neither is hiding their mutual affections
for the other. Right now they’re holding hands.

“It’s just a phase. The rich are never gay. They marry and have a family. I don’t care what my husband does in private as long as it sta
ys private. That’s the rules.” She looks at me like I’m retarded. I look back at her incredulously. What a fucking way to live. I cringe.

“I gotta get to my next class. I’ll see ya around.” I stand and toss Fate’s discarded lunch on my tray. It’s gross that they never pick up after themselves. I gla
re at the back of Fate’s head.

“Do you still want to study tonight?” Ade’s big, blue eyes look hopeful. She can’t stand to be alone for a second
, while I revel in it.

“Yeah, sure, come over after dinner tonight.” I quickly say as I grab her garbage too. I know she would just leav
e it for the staff to pick up.

“Come to my house instead.” Her command is
laced with the sickly-sweet tone she covers her true voice with. I don’t like the calculating gleam in her eye.

“Why?”
I ask in suspicion.

“I…
I…” She hesitates and I can see she is struggling to say what she means. A small V forms between her eyes.

“Just tell me the truth, Ade.” I
huff. I need to get to class.

“I don’t like seeing your mother. It freaks me out.” She says of my cancer-riddled mother. I can see her point. I take care of my mother and I
still feel uncomfortable. She isn’t used to seeing anything that isn’t perfect. And I don’t doubt that she hates visiting my beaten-down apartment in my shitty neighborhood too.

“Fine, I’ll come to you. Your parents don’t like me, remember? Maybe we should go to the library instead.” I’ve never been to
Whittenhower Estates and I don’t think I want to either.

“I’ll send my driver to pick you up at five. You can eat dinner with us.” She looks excited and
I don’t want to let her down.

“No on dinner. I have to co
ok for my mom, you know that.”

“So make her something to eat, but don’t eat
with her. You’re my best friend. I want my family to meet you. It’s been four years. I think it’s time, don’t you?” The command is back in her voice. I want to disobey it instantly. No one tells me what to do- I am my own person. I force down the growl that wants to erupt from my throat.

“I’ll meet your driver out front of my building at five sharp,” I say over my shoulder and
scowl at my best friend. I dump the trash in the garbage and rinse off the trays with the sprayer. The kitchen staff looks at me with kindness and glares at the rest of the students in the cafeteria.

“Yeah…
Hillbrook- educating the next generation of pompous assholes.”

Chapter Two

I’ll be ecstatic when I’m finished with Hillbrook. A twenty-minute subway ride, a fifteen-minute ride on a dingy bus, and walking ten blocks to my apartment in a catholic-schoolgirl uniform is pure torture. Daily I deal with constant leers and propositions. The farther from Hillbrook and the closer I get to home the worse the abuse I suffer. My people don’t like anyone who tries to rise above their station. My glare and my body scream back-off.

I’
m glad my body isn’t petite like Fate’s. I’m just shy of six-feet tall and I’m curvy. I loosen my wild, blonde hair that refuses to curl or lie flat. I’m a sight with my hair, eyes, and the uniform. My freshman year I was groped on the bus and nearly raped on my walk home. Experience has changed me. No one bothers me anymore.

I trudge up the three flights of stairs to my home. We can’t afford the rent in a building with an elevator. I feel bad for my mom. She doesn’t go out much except to doctor’s appointments, but when she does she has to struggle up the stairs. I nearly had to carry her up the last time. She can’t be more than eighty pounds to my one-fifty.

The red eviction notice is a mirage in my sight. It’s all I can see as I walk closer. I yank the offending piece of paper off my door. I crumple it up in my fingertips and toss it down the hallway and hit the manager’s door with it. I’m not angry with him or the building owner. I’m angry at my circumstance.

My mother is too ill to work and the medical bills keep piling up. I barely make enough money on the weeke
nds helping the manager do odds and ends around the building to afford food for us to eat.

My mother’s debt is daunting- a quarter of a million dollars in medical expenses that will fall on me when she passes away. I think she tried to hold
out long enough for me to become legal so that I wouldn’t be placed with CPS. That’s nice of her. The only issue is, that now that I’m an adult, I’m legally obligated to pay her debts.

I love my mother, but I long ago came to terms that her death was looming- nothing will stop it.
But it would have been better for my future if she had let go last month when I was still seventeen. I feel awful for thinking it. Every day she is with me is a blessing, but my future is shit before it has even begun.

I try to be quiet as I enter
our home knowing that she sleeps more than she’s awake. The door squeaks on its rusted hinges and I startle.

“Is that you, Regina?” My mother’s raspy voice echoes from the only bedroom in the apartment.

“Yeah, it’s me, Ma,” I yell back.

I clean up the stray clothes, water bottles, and plates that my mother left around the living-space. Rich or poor, cleanliness is an issue for both. I see the spilled tea on my blanket and fury slams
into me. I immediately feel bad for it. It’s not her fault that her mobility is shit- still it’s not my blanket’s fault either. I pull my blanket and pillows off my bed- the couch- and tuck them safely behind it.

Our apartment is three rooms: a small bedroom that barely holds the single bed. There are no nightstands or dressers or even a closet. The bathroom is big enough for you to sit on the toilet and take a shit while simultaneously washing your hands in the sink and washing your feet in th
e shallow tub. The living room kitchen combo has a couch- no TV- a two-seater table and a kitchenette. The rent on this hellhole is ridiculous as is everything else in this city. It’s the cheapest we could find. The Social Security benefits I was receiving for my Father’s death as a Transit Authority employee ran out the day I turned eighteen and before it was barely enough to cover the rent and utilities. I’ve missed this month’s rent a few days ago and I have no way to pay it. We have sixty days before they gather up our stuff and place it on the curb like garbage and lock us out. I have no clue what to do. I graduate in less than two weeks and start college in the fall. I shouldn’t have to worry about all this shit at my age.

“Ma, how are you feeling today?” I ask my mother
as I peek around the doorframe.

She’
s a shallow shell of her previous-self. Her silky, long, blonde hair is no more. Now wispy puffs of hair freckle her scalp. The strands are pure white and no thicker than a spider’s web. Her face is gaunt and sunken in. Her once voluptuous body is now skin covered bones. I try not to look at her and have it affect me. I’ve had to distance myself emotionally or I would’ve gone insane. I paste a blurry image of my healthy with vitality mother over her decaying version.
My father passed away two years ago in an accident. On that same day my mother was at the hospital being diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer. I had to take care of funeral arrangements while helping my mother cope with the loss of my father and her inevitable demise.

I’ve never spoken the words that I can’t wait until this is over, but I can’t help thinking it on a daily basis. Does this make me a horrible person? Probably, but don’t judge until you’ve watched a person decay before your eyes, bo
th mentally and physically. It’s hell on earth.

“I
’m doing better today than yesterday,” she lies. I can see the difference from last week. Her voice is rough and scratchy sounding, like she needs a drink of water, but water won’t change it. Her green eyes gaze at me glazed over in intense pain.

“Did you take your pills?” I
know she didn’t when I see her white knuckling the flannel blanket.

“Yes, Regina, just a few minutes ago,” she lies again. Her pain pills cost more than a month’s worth of groceries or the price of one sock worn b
y a student of Hillbrook. She’s been skipping doses because we can’t afford the refills. This is her last time on earth- it needs to be pain free.

“Did you run out again?” I ask as I walk to the bathroom and check the medicine cabinet. I shake the pill bottle and hear no rattle- empty.

“I’ll be back in time to fix your dinner.” I say as I hurry from the apartment before I change my mind.

I find Roman holding up the side of my building in the alleyway. He isn’t much older than me, but around here
, by the time you’re my age, you’re on your own. He isn’t bad to look at if you’re into the sexy bad-boy – I’m not… or so I tell myself. His black hair falls past his broad shoulders and his blue-green eyes take in everything within one-hundred-eighty degrees of him.

“Miss Regal regales me with her presence
.” His eyes shine when he sees the uniform and I groan.

He has been afte
r me since before I grew boobs. It’s a miracle if you keep your virginity until twelve-years-old around here. I’m a phenomenon at the ripe old age of eighteen.