ELEVEN
After meeting up with Jacqueline and her friends we walked back to class together. We had economics. I spent the entire 45 minutes of that class pondering about who Morgan was. She was a mystery and with what Jacqueline said just peaked the curiosity in me. The following class was Computer, Jacqueline had to excuse herself because she was in charge of the upcoming celebration. Every year the girls are given a welcome back to school night where we are joined with the Harrow Boarding School boys for a small party at the field. Since she was the student committee president she had to be present at all important meetings.
I was left to fend for myself in computer class. Luckily the teacher was accommodating. She gave me my login key to the entire system. A school email, access to online books for our classes and discussion boards where teachers are given the opportunity to give digital copies of homeworks in case some of the girls couldn't come to class. There was a small chat box for the teachers to send each girl messages while in class, and the same was available for the students.
A small box popped up on my screen.
Morgan E. wants to chat with you
The bubble read. I had an option to accept or decline. I looked around the classroom and everyone was busy doing essays for other classes. We were given the time to start on our English lit essay. I looked at the back and saw a pair of eyes looking at me. A familiar pair.
I click accept and read the message.
I didn't get to shake your hand earlier, nor did I catch your name. In case you didn't catch mine, its Morgan.
I debated whether or not I was going to even reply to the message. It felt as if I was betraying Jacqueline. I had a weird sense of loyalty towards her, after all, she was completely accepting and accommodating of me. She hasn't complained once about having to be bothered to babysit me on top of everything else she has to do. My hands were hesitant on top of the keyboard.
There's no harm in messaging right?
Hey, my name is Alex. I'm sorry if I didn't shake your hand this morning. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do.
Lame.
I looked back and I could see her smiling through her eyes. Her eyes darted back into her screen and I couldn't tell if she was really typing back, until I saw the three dots popping up. I waited patiently for her reply.
Jacqueline doesn't like me.
Was all she said. I didn't know if it would be appropriate of me to ask. But she seemed quite bold in her message. To tell a complete stranger that someone did not like her, for me it felt bold. I mean, she didn't even know how close I was to Jacqueline. For all she knows I might be Jacqueline's best friend. Did she even think of that?
Why doesn't she like you?
I wrote back and waited for her reply but I saw nothing. I didn't see the three dots. I hesitantly looked back to where she was sitting and saw her staring at the screen. But I couldn't make out the rest of her face for an accurate reaction. I looked back and waited a couple of minutes for her to reply but a couple of minutes turned into the entire class period. I logged off the computer and grabbed my stuff. I turned back and I watched as she flipped her hair and walked out of the classroom. I found myself following her. You could say I was curious at best. She stopped by one of the classrooms and I saw her talking to a teacher. I stood by the side and just stared at her.
It wasn't like I was stalking her.
"Hey, you're getting off early." I felt myself jump when Jacqueline suddenly popped up next to me. I looked at her and she saw how surprised I was. She had a brow raised but a smirk on her face. "Why so jumpy?" she asked. She turned and saw Morgan walking away. It wasn't hard to miss considering she was the only person on that side of the hallway. Jacqueline looked back at me, disappointed was all over her face. "Stay away from her." She repeated to me as if I was slow. She grabbed me by the wrist and we walked to the opposite direction. She led me to the main building by the front and I didn't even know why we were here.
"You get the rest of the day off according to headmistress Edwards. She's waiting for you over there." Jacqueline said and pointed at a black town car. I squinted my eyes, confused. "I don't know what it is either but she said you have the rest of the day off. Said you had some important appointment. I'll see you later, I'm going to be late for class." Jacqueline just walked away and that was all the information I got. I walked towards the black town car and it opened. Inside was headmistress Edwards. She had a soft smile on her face. "Hello there." she said and I gave a dysfunctional looking smile. She chuckled a bit and gestured for me to get in.
I got in and as soon as I closed the door the car moved. It headed out of the gate and we were driving away from school. I looked around, confused.
Was I getting kidnapped?
"You aren't being kidnapped." It was like she read my mind. "Where are we going?" I asked and she cleared her throat, her face serious. "Your mother couldn't make it, said she had prior engagements so I told her I would take you to Dr. Palmer. I know her personally anyway, and I'll be in her waiting room throughout your session." She said and suddenly her phone rang, and she was indulge in a conversation with someone.
Of course my mother wasn't there to take me to Dr. Palmer. She's always busy with her prior engagements anyway. Despite the fact that this must have been in the books longer than whatever she had planned. I just knew that she'd rather be elsewhere than sitting in a shrink's waiting room while her damaged offspring was inside. I grabbed my phone from my bag and I saw one unread message from Amanda. I already knew what it said before I could even open it.
Your mother has a meeting today and can't get out of them, she can't take you. Neither can I. I called your headmistress and she said she was willing to take you. Sorry sweetie. Call me later?
Amanda was sweet but not even her sweet messages and caring personality could really comfort or replace the idea that my mother is beyond being a mother. I spent the car ride sliding my finger on the shape of my phone. Headmistress Edwards was in a conversation the entire time. From what I could hear she was discussing about our school. Probably Ms. Thompson or any of the other teachers. The driver was just as silent as I was, and the radio was playing faintly in the background.
The ride took longer than I thought. Dr. Palmer's office was all the way in Central London, hours away from where the boarding school was at, yet a few minutes away from where my mother is having a meeting with her more favorite children. Her books. We stopped in front of a building and headmistress Edwards hopped out before me. We walked in together and she just looked at me with a smile. As if it was to assure me of something. We walked in and took the elevator to the 15th floor. As we hopped off, we were greeted by a crisp white hallway. We walked a few paces further and were met with an office door that read Dr. Palmer's name. We entered and a smiling woman was behind a clean modern looking desk. The entire room was white, with pink and purple accents. I honestly felt uncomfortable being here. It felt too... Clean.
"Dr. Palmer's inside, you can go in." the woman said with a smile before looking back at her screen and typing away. "I'll be here." headmistress Edwards said as she sat down and looked at me, waiting for me to get inside the office. I slowly approached the door, didn't bother knocking, got in and slowly closed it behind me. Inside the office I felt just as comfortable as the waiting room. It was crisp white as well, except this had an accent of purple and baby blue. Jesus Christ where am I?
"Hey there." A young looking woman, could pass for 24 years old stood up from a white desk. She walked all the way to me and put her hand out. I shook it. She wore a short pencil skirt and a silk top. Her hair was down and her heels were as high as this building. They looked like Louboutins, definitely her entire ensemble was just as expensive as this office. Did I mention that almost everything was glass-decorated as well?
"I'm Dr. Rebecca Palmer. You must be Alex." She said, her smile bright, her lips covered in dark red lipstick. She gestured for me to sit down on a white chaise lounge. I slowly sat down, my bottom was on the edge of the lounge. I felt dirty being this clean white room. She looked at me and laughed. "Get comfortable, treat this space as yours." She said. She had no accent. She opened up a leatherbound notebook, just like Dr. Arbour's but her own was white. It looked way more expensive.
Where the fuck am I?
"Dr. Arbour has already told me about your progress being in the institution. And because of certain circumstances, you're here now and I'm going to make sure I make things comfortable for you as did Dr. Arbour." She said with a smile. Her teeth were perfect, straight and white. It's like she came fresh out of a commercial. After what she said, all I did was stared at her. She was so prim, proper, young, I can't even find the right words or adjectives to really give the best description of her.
I just couldn't stop staring.
"I've read your file but maybe you'd like to introduce yourself in your own way?" She asked, she probably started feeling uncomfortable, after all, a patient is literally staring at her. And even in this uniform, I couldn't tell if I was even decent to look at.
"No." Was my only reply. She gave a smile and nodded her head. "I know that it might be weird or uncomfortable. Or maybe because things moved so fast, maybe you haven't really settled in yet, but I want you to know that you can talk to me. You can cuss if you want, really use any colorful words to express what you feel. I want you to feel as if you're just talking to a friend."
A friend. What is that and what's it like?
"Sure." Sarcasm was lingering through my voice as I said those words. I looked at the rest of her office. I didn't see any of her diplomas. All I saw were paintings. Abstract paintings. Not a single award in sight. There was such a difference between her and Dr. Arbour. But for some odd reason I felt a bit uncomfortable being in this room. Maybe it's the color? The cleanliness that it appeared to have. I felt like touching some of this stuff would become dirty.
"Are you comfortable?" She finally asked and I just stared at her. She smiled. She closed her notebook and got up from her chair. She took off her heels and gently sat down on the rug that was sprawled in the middle of the room. "I don't normally sit on the floor, even with this rug, but it's actually comfortable down here." She said. I take it this was her way of inviting me to sit on the ground with her.
Will that even make a difference?
I had practically wasted 15 or 30 minutes of her time because of how uncomfortable and awkward I felt being in that room. I got up, didn't bother to take my shoes off, and sat on the floor opposite of her. "Better?" She asked and she was right, this rug was comfortable. "It's okay." I said and gave her a smile. She cleared her throat and adjusted her sitting position. Obviously she wasn't comfortable. "Have you been around London?" She asked and I shook my head. "Really? Not even to check the Queen's guards?" She asked and I let out a laugh. "I'm not into that whole touristy shit." I said and rolled my eyes. She nodded her head in agreement.
"When I first came here one of them yelled at me." She said and I felt intrigued. "I was 15 at the time and I came to London for a trip with my best friend. I wanted a photo and I wasn't aware that guards were marching in my direction. A few seconds after my friend clicks the camera I hear, Make way for the Queen's guard! And before I could even turn around and react I found myself caught in this crowd of red and it was like I was in a rave and couldn't get out of the damn mosh pit." She said, as laughter was already leaving her mouth when she was telling the story. I found myself letting out a small chuck.
I could literally imagine her in a sea of the Queen's guard, confused. When she took off her heels earlier I noticed how short she was, it explained why her heels were as high as kingdom come. She was short, probably about my height. "What happens if a civilian gets injured because of what they do?" I was genuinely curious. She shrugged her shoulders and laughed. "I don't know, but I survived so they got away with it." She said.
And there it was again, silence. Awkward silence.
I didn't know what to even say. I didn't have a funny story like her. I didn't have any great experiences. All I had were bad ones. Confusing ones even.
"A few days before I left the institution-" I hesitated for a second. Did I really want to tell her this? Was I going to get in trouble? Will it affect whatever Dr. Arbour wrote on my files? I looked at her and she seemed eager to listen. Honestly, what else do I have to lose? "I snuck out with one of the girls. We went into town, drank, ate and crashed a house party." I said and she smiled, the smile was one of someone who seemed proud. Was she proud that I snuck out? "Did you get caught?" she asked. Why ask, wouldn't that be in my file if I got caught?
"Wouldn't it be in my file if I did get caught?"
Which is exactly what I asked.
She laughed and nodded her head. "You got a point." Was all she said. She asked me about it more and I told her that I went to a dive bar. I told her that I had been in the town before, during the day with the rest of the girls but at night it was a totally different world. I found myself backtracking to a memory with Sarah.
I hadn't thought about her in a while.
I found myself engrossed in the conversation, I told her about how the dive bar smelled of peanuts, alcohol and vomit. She asked me about the house party but I told her I needed to tell her about the food I ate at the diner. At the time I didn't notice, but I was actually talking to her like a friend. Exactly what she had told me to do. Of course I knew she wasn't my friend, of course I knew that it was probably a tactic for her to get me to talk. But props to her, it worked.