Here beith the next two chapters. Thanks so much to Mimzy, Mrs. Scott323, Christine Writer, and Litta for your reviews, I love them!!! So glad more people are reading, and that I was finally able to finish these and post them. Hope you like!
Days passed, and eventually it was the end of the week. Oddly enough, Meghan hadn't had too much trouble with Clarissa for the next two days - just the now usual sniggering and pointing. Her previous threat had not yet been fulfilled. As for that business card, Meghan had almost thrown it away, but had at the last minute decided instead to stick it in the bottom of her bag, almost as deep as she'd pushed the white envelope.
But not quite.
So now, it was Friday. Friday night, specifically, and the night the Winthrops and Meghan had all planned on going out to dinner at Laurence's restaurant.
Meghan herself was in a pretty good mood at the moment. She was looking forward to the nice, quiet, peaceful dinner with Faye and her family - or maybe not so quiet, it was Faye after all. Even more than that, however, she was looking forward to tomorrow night, when she'd finally get to call her family again. It would have been a week since she'd last heard Mom's or Aunt Libby's voice...and it had already been a week since she'd heard Daphne's.
All these things buzzed through Meghan's mind as she entered the restaurant, once again ignoring Faye's chattering. Laurence himself was already there, working, but he planned to eat with them when they'd arrived. So Meghan and Faye now followed Mrs. Winthrop and the two boys up to the front desk, where a waitress stood. Uncle Wallace had been too engrossed in a cricket match, and therefore wasn't with them. Even that grumpy old man wouldn't spoil this night.
"Why, hello there, Mrs. Winthrop. You've brought the family I see."
"I have, Nadine. And this girl, here..." she motioned for Meghan to come forward, "is Meghan."
"Good evening, Meghan." the waitress said, holding out her hand.
Meghan smiled and took her hand to shake.
"To you as well." she said. Meghan was surprised at her own politeness.
Nadine smiled brightly, and looked to Emma in approval. She then bent down and pulled out five menus.
"We'll need six." Emma pointed out. "My husband."
"Oh, my goodness, yes!" the waitress said, immediately bending to get out another one. "You'll have to excuse me, I'm feeling a bit off tonight."
"That's quite alright, Nadine."
The waitress handed them the menus.
"Right this way." she said.
As she followed everyone, Meghan gazed at her surroundings. The Crystal Spoon was brightly lit and elegantly designed, and at the same time, not too fancy. Hanging chandeliers graced each table, and there were fresh green plants everywhere. Meghan thought it looked a bit like a magical garden with walls - the restaurant felt peaceful and mesmerizing.
They soon arrived at their table, and Nadine motioned for them to sit.
"Laurence should be out in a short while, and I'll be back to take your orders."
The sweet waitress then turned and walked away.
Meghan was now feeling absolutely giddy, though she'd never actually use that word. She felt wonderful being there, and felt very lucky and grateful, glad to be welcomed into this country. It was the way she had felt when she'd first breathed in the fresh night air walking up to the Winthrops' house for the first time, when she'd looked through the photo album with Faye, when she'd first seen Jasperstone Academy and eaten in its beautiful courtyard, when she'd gone on that shopping trip and sipped tea at that charming little cafe..."
Meghan suddenly caught sight of someone staring at her.
It was a boy wearing an apron, wiping a table about eight feet away. He had brown eyes and black hair, and skin that looked like he'd been out in the sun many times. He looked like one of those surfer guys from California, the ones that say, "That was some knarly wave, dude." And those brown eyes were positively fixated on Meghan. She didn't know him, but he certainly seemed to know her.
When he saw that Meghan was looking, he quickly turned away and went back to his work.
Meghan kept watching him, and very soon he turned to look again. Of course, it was only for a second, before he turned away once more.
But Meghan didn't get the chance to stare any longer.
"Hello, all." said a familiar voice. Meghan looked up, and there stood Mr. Winthrop.
Everyone greeted him as he sat down and opened a menu.
"My, my, I wonder what I'll order from this fine restaurant. Don't tell anyone, but personally, I think it could be better."
Meghan and the rest gave him a laugh, even though they didn't really think his joke was funny.
When Nadine returned, everyone ordered scrumptious food. Meghan had pasta with bread, and it was delicious. Soon enough, however, she had to leave the table.
"Mr. Winthrop." she said. "May I ask where the restroom is?"
He looked up at her, questioningly. Then, he smiled.
"I think I know what you mean. That way." he replied, pointing her in the right direction.
That was sufficient, and soon Meghan was coming out of the small room, wiping her hands on a paper towel. Throwing it away, she saw a shadow moving at the end of the hall.
Meghan came forward to see the surfer guy, fiddling with a cart of cleaning products. He seemed to be having a lousy time of it, and all of sudden, a stack of white cloths fell to the floor, taking with them a couple of spray-bottles. Alarmed, the boy quickly bent to scoop them up, piling the cloths bit by bit on top of the cart in frustration.
"Need some help?" Meghan asked him.
The boy jumped, quickly dropping cloths back on the floor. He turned, and a look of recognition came over his face.
"No, I've got it handled." he told her. "I'm used to being busy."
"Oh?" Meghan pondered. "Is this not your only job?"
"Far from it." He bent down to pick up what he'd dropped, but kept glancing at Meghan.
Meghan stood there for a while, thinking.
"Do I know you?"
Setting objects back on the cart, the boy stopped for a moment. He leaned against the cart and gazed up at the ceiling.
"No." he said carefully. "But I think I know you. You know my friend."
Meghan cocked her head.
"You're friends with Faye?"
He looked at her.
"Who's Faye?"
That answered her question.
"The girl whose father you work with?"
"Ah! So that's what her name is."
Where had this guy been?
"Well, if you don't know Faye, then who are you talking about?"
A look of knowing came over his eyes.
"I believe you've met my friend, Luke."
Oh.
"I met him, yes."
He chuckled.
"Well, I bet you don't know that he's going absolutely mad right now, that you haven't called him."
Meghan was instantly on the defensive.
"Look, whoever you are, I'm not going to play into your little game. I know that card was just a trick."
The teenager with the cleaning products looked surprised.
"A trick?"
"Yes, and you know it is! He's just a rich prince who gets whatever he wants. Why would he want me?"
Instantly, the boy understood. He looked at Meghan with understanding.
"Well, Meghan - that's your name, isn't it? - you've been mislead. The person you just described is not the person that I know. If you need proof, look at me! This apron, this cleaning cart - I'm not rich! But he talks to me."
Meghan was silent.
"He sees nothing in those girls who chase after him. To him, they're all the same. But he saw something in you."
She just looked at him for a minute, thinking some more as he started to go back to work. Then, she began to walk back to her table, but stopped.
"You never told me your name." she said.
He paused and looked up, smiling.
"Ian Wallace."
She half-smiled back. Funny, how this guy's last name as Faye's great uncle's first. Ian Wallace, Uncle Wallace...
"It was nice meeting you, Ian."
She turned around again and began walking away.
"Enjoy your meal." he called after her.
Meghan looked back as she walked.
"Sure."
And so, she went back to eating, and the boy went back to cleaning.
Here it was. Saturday night.Meghan had been sure to let her host father know of her approval of the restaurant. As usual, he had seemed quite proud of himself.
Now, it was finally time for Meghan to call her family. Just as she had done at one o'clock Sunday morning, she asked to make a collect call to her home country, this time at about ten o'clock at night. Much better.
She heard the ring tone. It rang twice before she heard a click, and a crackly voice came on the phone.
"Hello?"
Meghan identified the voice.
"Aunt Libby."
"Meghan! Sweetheart! I feel like you've been gone forever. It's been so different here without you."
"I guess I can imagine. Listen, is Daphne there?"
"Oh, Meghan, I'm so sorry - she's staying over at Lauren's tonight."
"I STILL CAN'T TALK TO DAPHNE?!"
"Honestly, Meghan, I have no idea why they decided to have a sleep over when she knew you'd be calling. But it's the honest truth, that's where she is."
Meghan sighed.
"Me and your mom are here, though. So at least you get to talk to somebody."
"That's true." Meghan was happy to have her mom and aunt, even though she was getting increasingly anxious to talk to Daphne. Next week, I guess.
"So tell me. What's been going on? How is that new school of yours? We don't know anything about that yet!"
Meghan thought for a moment.
"Well, school is hard, but still good. They serve gourmet food and you eat it in a courtyard. And me and Faye and Faye's mom went shopping, and I got some cute stuff. Oh! I got everybody some pink berets really cheap, and I got Daphne a purse. I'm going to send them to you on Monday."
"Ooooh, sounds like you've been having fun."
"I have! Well, for the most part..."
"What do you mean?"
Meghan paused. There were things that she wanted to tell her...maybe if she said it just the right way...
"Well, see, there's this girl. Her name is Clarissa. I bumped into her by accident the first day of school, and she's had it in for me ever since."
"What? What's she doing to you?"
"Uh, well, she likes to shoot off insults with her popular friends, and she put food in my bag..."
"Oh, I see. She thinks she's queen of the school."
"She kinda is queen of the school."
"Well," Aunt Libby said, "tell her off!"
Meghan was surprised for a moment.
"Tell her off?"
"Yes. Tell her you won't take her nonsense anymore."
"Uh, Aunt Libby, that's not gonna stop her."
"Oh, it won't?"
"No, it won't. Because I already stood up to her once, and that's what made her mad in the first place."
"Well then. I say, take it to the next level. Tell somebody."
"Tell somebody? Who? The teachers and staff members who just sit there and watch her do it?"
Her aunt was silent.
"Sounds to me like that school isn't very good at enforcing its rules, if the authority figures there know there's something going on and aren't doing anything about it. What about her family?"
"Huh?"
"What about her family? Do her trailer trash parents know what she's doing?"
"Uh...I don't know."
"Then maybe someone should tell them."
"Who?"
"You! Or your mother."
"I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"I just...can't."
Again, no one said anything.
"Meghan, you can't be afraid."
"I'm not afraid! It's just...it's not that simple."
She realized now that she shouldn't have said anything.
"Well, then, if you don't want to tell someone, you might just have to keep enduring what that girl is giving you. I can't help you any more than that. I'm afraid you're pretty much on your own."
Meghan, relieved for the moment, laughed a little at how ironic the situation really was.
"I'd pretty much guessed that for this, Aunt Libby. Believe it or not."