…
Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.
49: Sweet Sixteen
…
Thursday, February 16
My brain was so overloaded with new information I didn't even register that we were supposed to have moved to Smyrna during the weekend. We hadn't even prepared for it because the HVAC guys hadn't shown up last Wednesday and the electrical rewiring of the kitchen was taking much longer than anticipated. But the locks were changed, an expensive security system installed (I convinced dad to put Edward's FIDE rating as our security code), plumbing fixed and bathrooms renovated, so not all hope was lost. Mom was having the time of her life designing and online thrifting for our new bedrooms, but even so, my parents had pushed our moving date to February 24 (Friday nine days from now), which was fine by me. We'd began to sell the furniture we didn't like and give away what wasn't worth selling, and we were slowly starting to box stuff up.
Our reluctance for our lives to change probably explained our slowness more than actual lack of time (which we also suffered from).
The creepy stalker guy hadn't shown his face since since the bowling alley (not that we knew of, anyway). Edward spent his Monday evening tutoring and teaching me how to ride his motorcycle in our cul-de-sac, which was fun and probably helped us both feel like the weekend had changed nothing.
Neither my parents nor I had mentioned to Edward that, technically, my parents had applied to be foster parents three years ago, just before mom was laid off from her part-time gig and couldn't find anything for a while (and we had to rely on SNAP benefits). Rather than risk getting disqualified, my parents had withdrawn their application.
For as long as I could remember, I'd known my parents couldn't conceive naturally, so when I met Alice and she introduced me to the concept of adoption, I'd happily ran to my parents with my brilliant solution to their problem, but they blew my four-year-old mind when they informed me that, while they would've loved to give me a sibling, adoption cost a lot of money.
Mom had always wanted lots of children. When my parents approached me as a kid with their desire to foster, I'd felt jealous of sharing their love, but pre-teenage years cured me of that malady. If seven-year-old me suddenly wanted all their love and attention, twelve-year-old me was not only eager but desperate for them to have someone else to dote on. After months of discussion, my parents had finally felt comfortable applying to be foster parents four years ago, and I'd been stoked. I couldn't hug mom enough when they withdrew their application. They'd planned to reapply when we were in a better financial position, but, next thing we knew, I was trying out for Underground Memories, got all the roles, and the rollercoaster ride hadn't stopped since.
None of us had dared to raise Edward's hopes, though. Ridiculously, my parents hadn't mentioned the possibility of fostering because they felt selfish (like they were benefitting from Edward's troubles), which was totally insane. My parents wanting to foster was just about the most selfless thing they could've wanted, and they were the best parents a kid could've asked for (when they weren't teasing me to death). If they could figure out what was happening with Riley's father and how to convince Edward's aunt Vicky to get help, maybe they could get Riley as their foster kid until everything worked itself out?
They did get an appointment to meet Riley's father Jesse at Phillips State on Sunday at two PM, so that was encouraging.
Little by little, I began to hope. What if I could do long-distance with Edward when he went to MIT while we fostered Riley? Edward could visit us during breaks and get to see both me and Riley, and we could make sure the boy was loved until his mother got sober or his dad got out of jail. I expected press insanity, too, but hopefully, if I prepared Edward, he'd learn to live with it. I knew him well enough not to expect him to relish the attention, so learning to live with it was my optimistic hope. We'd have to figure it out together, anyway. It wasn't like I knew how to handle it, either.
I couldn't wait to share the story of my biological father with him. I anticipated his reaction more than feared it now that I knew about his own father, but I also wanted to hear his thoughts on me meeting Garrett for the first time.
It was strange to be back in school after knowing what Edward's life was like behind the scenes. Surrounded by the stories of Saturday night's party, we listened and laughed, but I found that I didn't mind having stayed with Edward that night. I would've never seen how he lived had he not kept the information about his father to himself. While my parents were chill, they weren't cool with me staying at Edward's (anymore) regardless of how little Carl stayed there.
Also, Emmett would've blown a gasket, so there was that.
On Tuesday, during a break when Edward's chess coach Mr. Moore came to talk to him and Alice was off finding her little brother, Jasper leaned against the wall next to me.
"Met father of the year, huh?" he asked, rhetorically. "Will you be my alibi if I rent a tank and drive over that side of Masen's family?"
I laughed.
"What tank?" I asked, all wide eyed innocence. "You were helping us move the whole day."
Jasper grinned. "That's the spirit."
He left to slap Edward on the back and talk shit to him, and I observed the two as they wrestled over something trivial in the distance. Their friendship felt even weirder after Sunday. Edward had a thoughtful, contemplative way about him, serious and modest. He held himself up to unreachable standards. Jasper, on the other had, was the goofiest guy I'd met, always drawing attention to himself and anyone around him, chatty, lively and never afraid to make an ass of himself and, yet… their friendship worked.
A few breaks later, after Edward was done quizzing me about organelles for Biology, I was sitting with my knees on Edward's thighs, rereading the stuff I'd gotten wrong when I felt Edward's eyes on my face.
"What?" I asked, turning my head.
I got a beautiful view of his eyelashes when his gaze stayed on my mouth.
"Thank you."
His kiss sent a little thrill through my heart.
"For what?"
"For not treating me any different."
I stretched out my arm between us to catch his palm in mine. He squeezed it.
Minutes before the bell rang, Tyler strolled through the hallway with a near-angry purpose, and I was almost scared of the way his gaze travelled from one person to the next, clearly looking for someone until his attention landed on Edward. Edward straightened but didn't get up as the two locked eyes.
"Dude." Tyler's eyes were bewildered and his chuckle dark. He hesitated, choosing what to say before he gave Edward a nod. "Respect, man."
His eyes flickered to mine before he left and let out a string of curses, clearly still in disbelief, and while Edward and I had a suspicion of what his words were about, the whispering gossip about Lauren for the rest of the day was a total vindication of Edward's previous behavior toward her. Not only did a few of the people in his friend group come up to him to apologize, Miss Jennings pulled Lauren aside before Lauren emerged with an indignant redness in her cheeks. While Edward hadn't said a word about Lauren's views, Tyler was as far from shy about their discovery as one could've gotten. Apparently, he and Isaiah had been the last to finish changing after gym and overheard Lauren and her bestie in the hallway discussing a black guy who'd asked Lauren out. Lauren had refused the offer because the guy didn't sound smart, but 'it wasn't like he could help it, being black.'
Tyler was seething in the hallways during breaks, passing Lauren with, "Mmm, diet racism," and spreading a few other gorgeous opinions Edward had already told me about, but what seniors claimed she'd said changed like a game of telephone, and soon none of us could tell where her real opinions ended and gossip began. She mostly disappeared from the hallways between classes, and I would've felt bad for her had this day not changed how everyone behaved around Edward. Teachers went out of their way to acknowledge him, and I hadn't even realized how excluded he'd become from his friend group until I saw their efforts to include Edward in their shenanigans. Edward chatted with them enough to show that he wasn't angry, but, knowing I'd be working on Wednesday and Friday, he preferred to spend time with me, which warmed me up inside.
Riley stayed over on Tuesday. He cried most of the evening, but Edward (even while frustrated) was crazy patient with him—and way too apologetic about his crying. My parents tried to take over looking after Riley, but the boy was incredibly attached to Edward when he was upset, and it would probably take time for him to feel just as comfortable around my parents. Fortunately, Riley did fall asleep after I read Dragonology to him as Yamamï. I no longer cared quite as much for using that voice as long as nobody recorded it, and short bursts of it didn't damage my vocal chords, either.
On Wednesday, I drove myself to Alec's Studio with mom. Mike and I (and mom) settled on the armchairs in the control room as we waited for my tutor and our sound assistant to arrive. Mike was swiping messages on his phone, but I was too eager to share my NDA news not to bug him.
"I asked Tanya to give me an NDA for my boyfriend," I admitted, tugging at a hole in my black jeans. I wore Edward's maroon chess hoodie on top because wearing his clothes felt too much like walking on a cloud of Edward not to do it.
"I know." Yawning, Mike looked up. "She told me. She wanted to hear my opinion."
My heart nearly skipped a beat. "Your opinion?"
"I've worked for Marvel. They have phenomenally tight confidentiality agreements. She wanted to hear what I thought."
I cringed. "And what do you think?"
"A week into dating the guy?" Mike groaned. "You're a total nut job for asking for an NDA, but teenagers aren't exactly known for their secrecy, so if you're determined… it was the right thing to do, what you did. Even if you are batshit crazy."
"Really?"
"Really," he repeated, looking a bit exasperated for having to reassure me. "Once Tanya gets over how pissed she is at you for making her justify a viewpoint to the executives that she doesn't agree with… she'll respect you for doing this. Be ready to wait for weeks, though. These things take time."
As much as it went against my impatient nature, waiting for a few weeks would've still given Edward almost a month to get used to the idea. It was better than nothing.
On pins and needles, I asked, "So you think she'll agree?"
"You didn't make her life easy with how long she had to fight to have you on board the project in the first place, but… she already has. Just leave her alone until she's ready to admit it."
…
I hadn't quite forgotten about my conversation with Rose last week, either. So, after we reached home, dad had showered and made us chop all the vegetables for his casserole dish for our big dinner, I waited for a pause in my parents' conversation.
I didn't even fully understand how I felt about them making big decisions about my life without my input. The previous week's exhaustion ensured that I didn't have the energy to be angry, but I was certainly not impressed.
"So how did a world-famous luxury brand find out about me with an NDA in place and why did you deny them the opportunity to work with me?"
My parents shared a glance before mom scooted her chair closer to me.
"These studios have a way of sharing information with important companies. I'm sure Sébire and Loïc signed an NDA before approaching us."
"Okay, but… aside from the specifics of how they even knew my existence, an offer to be a brand ambassador is a pretty big deal." Hurt creeped into my voice. "Why would you deny them without talking to me, first? I'm not saying I wouldn't have made the same decision, I know nothing about the brand except how exclusive they are, but… why not talk to me about it?"
Mom washed her hands before she sat back down. She turned to me with a gentle smile. "Honey, you cannot legally work more hours in a week than you're already working."
"Okay." I put my knife down. "But why didn't you tell me?"
Mom reached out to straighten one of my curls before it bounced back into place. "You've been so busy, cục cưng. Busy with school and acting and… Edward. It's your last months of—being a normal girl in a normal world. We just want to make life simpler for you. If we said yes to every offer coming your way—"
"There's other offers?! What the hell are you guys doing, not even telling me?"
Dad stared at me like a deer in headlights before I hid my face in my hands. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell." I let out a breath. "What other offers?"
Apparently, without knowing anything about me being Nala, a few fast-fashion brands had wanted me to pose for them, three small series had been interested in my acting (two for voice acting, one for acting), and a few companies had wanted me in their ads. Prior to being Nala, I'd done similar projects, so I wasn't too surprised. I just hadn't expected my parents to have refused the opportunities without talking to me. They also admitted they'd known that Mike had not only been reluctant to do the second-season kiss with me when I was under the age of consent, he'd had a full-blown (slamming-doors-and-shouting kind of) fight with Tanya over it.
As much as Tanya didn't want to (want to) hire me, she was my biggest defender to anyone who questioned my (lack of) experience in this massive project. The higher-ups were getting petrified with my lack of signature for the second season contract, so much so that they'd asked my parents if it was an issue with my salary. I felt bad, but not enough to rush to sign it. As diva-y as I felt, it was in my favor to withhold my signature until I held an NDA for Edward in my hands.
My parents had finished unleashing this information by the time we'd cleaned up the kitchen. Watching dad wrap his arms around mom from behind, I leaned against the doorframe.
"It's okay if you're angry with us," mom said.
"I'm not mad, I'm just—" I grinned into my palm as I realized the words about to leave my mouth, and when our eyes met, my parents chuckled.
"Disappointed?" dad finished, smiling but shaking his head. "We're sorry, sweetie. Not all of it was intentional."
"I understand that," I replied. "You're both effectively my managers, and I've never had big reasons to disagree with the choices you make, but can we maybe… arrange a weekly meeting about this stuff? Just, like, fifteen minutes on Sundays or whatever. Even if all the decisions have been made. I don't like people catching me off guard with knowledge I have no reason not to know. Is that okay?"
Relieved, my parents hugged me before mom freaked out over dad having changed into his pajamas on autopilot when we were expecting company. I, too, got changed.
We'd invited Edward's aunt Vicky and Riley over for dinner (and Edward, of course). Our excuse for inviting her was wanting to get to know Edward's closest family now that I was dating him. My parents used the words 'closest thing to a mother Edward had,' which, while flattering, were entirely untrue. But my parents wanted to try to get information about Riley's father as well as get the gist of the severity of her functioning alcoholism.
Meeting them at the door, I hugged Riley, kissed Edward, and shook hands with his aunt. Neither her put-together pastel pantsuit, LV bag nor her thin-framed glasses distracted from the glazed-over look in her eyes. Her hand was cold but didn't tremble like the time Edward had introduced us.
"Miss Swan."
The forced cheeriness in her voice made me feel uneasy.
"Please call me Bella." I smiled. "Although—it'll feel odd to call you Miss Masen, ma'am."
"Victoria, please. Call me Victoria." She leaned closer. Her smile felt vacant. "My nephew tells me you're an actress. Have I seen you in anything?"
As I presented my sociable, everything-is-fine side, I locked eyes with Edward. His clenched jaw and fiery eyes confirmed my suspicions—his aunt didn't smell particularly of alcohol, nor did she sway, but there was something specific about the way she carried herself, her glassy eyes, her fake cheerfulness, all of which felt a bit off. I made fun of the small roles I'd had in mediocre movies, introduced her to my parents and left them to their small talk before I stepped so close to Edward he put his arm around me.
"Please tell me you drove," I whispered.
"Of course I drove," he scoffed.
Not having adequate words for the responsibilities on his shoulders, I hugged him. Relaxing against me, he pressed a whisper-soft kiss against my hairline, filling me with tingles and comfort.
Victoria asked appropriate questions and made fun of celebrating Wednesday with a bottle of wine. She gave a glowing review of how attentive and natural Edward was with Riley and how of course Edward was too kind to go to MIT for the sake of her son even if he did get in. My parents were so taken aback by her flattery-filled blackmail that dad changed the topic to ask about Riley's dad, but she evaded most questions outside of admitting that he was in jail. Victoria turned the topic back to my acting, asking me about my salary in a way that was so faux-dismissive that I flat-out lied to her. I told her I received pocket-change for my acting, but her hum in response to my lie made hair in the back of my neck rise. Realizing that the house we were moving into was connected to a more posh subdivision, she questioned my parents so eagerly I began to feel uncomfortable.
Knowing that Edward's dad was on the path to stealing, I didn't feel generous with information, but at least neither did my parents.
Offering Victoria wine may not have been the wisest decision but my parents couldn't have kept it away without admitting that they were aware of her alcoholism or that they had an ulterior motive. Mindful of Victoria's consumption, mom only drank one glass of wine, and dad refused altogether as he pretended to be on antibiotics. Edward and I didn't drink.
What confused me was that Edward's aunt didn't actually drink as much as I thought she would've—maybe two bottles of wine in total. Was that because she didn't drink in excess in front of others? Because she'd had alcohol in her system already? Or maybe because Edward had clearly expressed his opinion of her drinking and she felt self-conscious drinking in front of him? I didn't ask.
Victoria didn't seem to be bad with Riley, though. She caressed the boy's hair when Riley ran up to her with questions. She told him she loved him. Taking the opportunity to talk about her when she went to the bathroom, I leaned closer to Edward to whisper my observation to him.
The corner of Edward's lips rose, but not in amusement. "She's not the worst," he muttered, swirling the water in his glass before his eyes met mine. "She'll be on her best behavior, here. You can't see what I see when she's downed a few more bottles. Or five."
The helpless pain in my parents' eyes proved that they'd heard his words, and the knowledge that Victoria was merely neglectful and not physically abusive toward her son didn't help us to swallow the bitter pill of her custody of him.
But one good thing came out of our dinner: when my parents said they loved children and offered to nanny the boy for free, a smile crossed Victoria's face. Even as I knew that her happiness was probably caused by her addiction (getting more opportunities to drink), her heart-felt acceptance of my parents as people she'd trust with Riley eased my worries. Seeing the state of Victoria, my parents already offered to keep Riley for the night, but she didn't take us up on it.
With heavy hearts, we watched Edward drive them back to their home.
Edward was right about one thing, though. You couldn't really tell Victoria was drunk unless you knew to look for smaller signs of it.
…
The bed dipped as something soft and violet-scented brushed over my face. Sneezing, I hit my forehead against the warm, firm muscle of an arm before my eyes snapped open.
Edward hovered above me in the relative darkness of the room. His arms and legs sank the mattress on either side of me, and he was biting on a dark pink rose. His beautiful eyes sparkled as he touched his nose against mine, and the sleepy, cheesy smile on my face matched my fluttering heart.
He removed the rose from between his teeth and lowered his face next to mine. His lips grazed against my earlobe.
"Happy sweet sixteen, my Feather-heart."
Having never had such a panty-dropping, adorable wake-up on my birthday, I gripped his neck and kissed his tooth-pasty lips. (And tried not to cringe at the morning breath he had to tolerate.)
"Thank you," I replied, realizing how silent everything was. Edward had switched on my table lamp and pointed it behind the table, but the world felt incredibly dark and still. Half-yawning through my grin, I asked, "What time is it?"
"Five thirty or so."
I caressed his buzz cut. "Jesus. How'd you get in?"
"Your parents gave me a key."
Touched and speechless over his determination to wake me with a rose before the crack of dawn, I made him scoot over before I lifted my blanket so that he could cover me with his body in exactly the same way underneath it. He apologized when his freezing hoodie and jeans made me yelp, but my palms soon found the warmth of his back muscles, and Edward practically purred into my ear when I squeezed them.
Resting his elbows on either side of my head, he kissed my lips and lingered, eyes half-hooded and so sexy I had to crush him into a horizontal hug.
"I love you," I whispered, unsure how to express how adored he made me feel. "Thank you. This is the best birthday morning anyone's ever had."
"I haven't even given you my gift."
"I don't need anything else," I mumbled with a cheesy grin. "Just you."
The way his eyes twinkled sent a flurry of tingles through me.
I kissed him with all the overwhelming affection bursting out of me, and we made out in the silent, illegally early morning. His scent wrapped around me, all boy and imperceptible deodorant and attraction so fierce I wanted to drown in his touch and never emerge. Gasping against his soft lips, I wrapped my legs around his hips, adoring his boner, but the moment I did, Edward's head dropped against my neck, and his sexy, low curses sent a delicious shiver through me. Lips pressed against my neck, he rolled us on our sides, pulling me with him, and I adored how tightly he held me in his arms.
His little kisses against my hair put me straight to sleep, and next thing I knew, I was sneezing against the rose again. Looking sheepish, Edward put my flower on the table and ran his fingers over my hair. I kissed his palm.
"Sorry for waking you," Edward said with a sleepy glint in his eyes. "I just wanted to give you my gift before we join your parents."
Embarrassed that I'd fallen asleep on him, I grinned and yawned against his cheek.
"It's not a lot," Edward rushed to apologize as he placed a little gift bag between our chests. "It's okay if you—"
Giddy with joy, I cut him off with a kiss.
"My boyfriend got me a birthday gift," I replied. "Shut up and suffer my happiness."
His gift bag had a card in it, one of those old ones with a painted rose on it, and his short and sweet message of love was written under a promise that the card also served as a ticket to his gramps' home.
Noticing a golden '70' underneath the rose painting, my face split with a grin. Convinced (and thrilled) he'd discovered the card from some bottom of Esme's cluttered drawers, I held it next to my face.
"Seventy, huh? Didn't know you were into that."
"Fuck," Edward cursed, snapping the card from my fingers. "Fuck I'm sorry. I didn't see that. I'll get you a proper one."
Quicker than I could react, Edward ripped the card in half behind my head.
"No!" I cried, pulling back his arm. I was too late. "What'd you do? I love it."
Face twisting with shame, Edward searched my eyes. "I didn't notice—"
"I was just teasing you. I don't care about the seventy. I want this card." Just shy of pouting, I took the pieces from him and held them against my heart. "I'll tape it back together and frame it and there's nothing you can do about it."
Edward scoffed but his smile was sad. "Baby, I—"
"The only thing I want to hear is how sorry you are that you ripped up my precious, precious card from my idiot boyfriend and that you'll never do it again."
Edward's chest grumbled with quiet laughter, but he brushed his thumb over my forehead and kissed my lips. "I'm sorry I ripped up your card. I won't do it again."
I smiled against his lips. "You're lucky you're too adorable to stay mad at." Setting aside the sad pieces of the card, I took out a pretty box from the gift bag. A golden, old-timey book-shaped locket on a chain sat on flat red velvet in the box.
"It's beautiful," I whispered, taking out the necklace. "Where'd you get it?"
"It's not real gold," Edward explained before I shut him up with my flat palm on his mouth.
"Stop it. Stop apologizing for adorable stuff. I don't care. In fact, I'm glad. The only real gold I've owned is the earrings I have on right now, and I'm lucky they're tough to take off or I'd be terrified of losing them."
Snuggling against Edward, I brushed my thumb over the intricate patterns of the old-timey book locket. A rush of affection burst through me when I found the simple 'with love from Edward' engraved on the back. The sides of the golden book were carved with lines, and my heart skipped a beat when I discovered a latch on it. Giddy with excitement, I sat up and pointed the table lamp on the bed before I clicked the book open and found… a sad blue plastic button with some electronics behind it.
"How… romantic," I said, grinning but confused.
Rubbing his neck in embarrassment, he laughed and sat up. "I know it's ugly, but—it's a location device. I made it. If you're ever in trouble and your phone runs out of battery, you press this button and your parents and I will know your coordinates. I made a rudimentary app to go with it."
Amazed by his brain, I stared at him. "You just… made this? That's… that's incredible."
Edward's smile was self-deprecating. "I got most instructions from the internet, so don't be too impressed."
"Very unimpressive, yeah," I replied sarcastically. "So, it's GPS?"
"No. Similar, though. It's built on Laura van. GPS takes too much energy."
"Who's Laura and why does she get a van?"
Edward muffled his laughter against my shoulder. "LoRaWAN. It's a communication protocol."
Sure, sure, definitely words I understood better.
"Wait, so you'll always know where I am?"
"No," Edward denied, grinning. "No, baby. I'm not a creep. It will only send out your location if you press it. You can ask one of the physics teachers to verify at school if you're worried."
"No, I trust you." In awe of the lengths to which he went to keep me safe, I kissed him. "Thank you, a thousand times over. It's gorgeous and insanely useful, although hopefully I'll never need it."
"I hope so, too." Adjusting me to sit properly between his legs, Edward rested his chin on my shoulder and wrapped both of his arms around my waist from behind. Leaning against him, I bathed in his warmth, and it was only then that I noticed that he'd glued a photo on the other side of the locket on the inside, one of Edward and me in Fegatello Attack, huddled together over a chessboard.
"Oh my God," I muttered. "Where'd you get this?"
"Gramps took it."
"It's gorgeous."
Edward kissed my neck, and I made sure he'd locked the door before we continued to make out on my bed. Fifteen minutes of breathless kissing later, we settled on our sides, facing each other. It was 6:15, but I was reluctant to leave my bubble of love full of delicious boyfriend on my bed.
Eyes adorably hooded, Edward brushed his knuckles over my cheek.
"Your parents said something curious about your biological father. Is he also in prison?"
"Was," I corrected, adjusting to the change in topic. "Past tense—back in Africa, before I was born."
"What was he in for?"
"Attempted murder."
Edward whistled. "What's his name?"
"Garrett," I admitted, glad to get closer to the truth and hopefully knock Edward off his feet a little less in the evening.
Edward and I joined my parents in the kitchen. As was tradition, all three of them sang me the birthday song before we ate my chocolate cake (except dad, of course, whose alien race will be studied by scientists one day). Mom gave me a little basket of my favorite Kẹo dừa coconut candy, impossible to find in the US but almost as delightful as Edward's lips. True to dad's word, my parents' gifts were limited to the expensive helmet I'd already received, but other than Edward's affection (and my own clothes), I didn't need much, anyway.
Edward and I tested out the button in my locket, ensuring that pressing it did, in fact, send an alert to himself and my parents (it did). I proudly wore it on top of my (mom's) warm green-striped turtle-neck dress, and dad agreed to braid my hair in the style that I loved most (around my head and tucked in at the end).
Jasper, apparently, had arranged a similar sing-along birthday event for me in the hallway, and I was so surprised by the amount of people who wished me happy birthday during breaks that I almost started to fear that the teaser for Underground Memories had dropped. Edward thought it was because the Lauren rumor had leaked from the seniors' circle. Whatever the reason, it was sweet and I continued to adore walking to classes tucked by Edward's side.
Alice got me a beautiful pair of handmade golden earrings, flattened and matte. I couldn't wait to wear them after my piercings had healed, but I did immediately wear the small fake hoops that I could attach to the upper part of my ear, which taught me that Edward found piercings on women incredibly hot. He nearly dragged me to the dead-end landing of the fourth floor corridor before he pressed me against the wall and kissed me breathless. I couldn't hold him close enough, and when I appeared in class with my swollen lips in a cheesy smile and a few curls escaping from my hairdo, I felt like I had a secret energy inside me. I felt invincible. Edward insisted that it wasn't the fake piercings but the girl wearing them that made him steal me away (which was even cuter), but regardless, I adored disappearing to shady corners of the school to snuggle up against my boyfriend in inappropriate ways.
A hot, intimidating-looking boyfriend who made me feel adored and weightless.
Just before my sixth and last class (before the school assembly), I left Edward to talk to his chess coach to grab my World Literature and Composition textbook from my locker, but, unlocking it, my heart fell into my boots.
Stuffed in my locker was my white coat, its tilted hanger attached to a nail hole inside. Blood draining from my face, I looked around to see if anyone was observing me, but our custodian and the few students scattered in the hallway didn't even glance my way.
I picked up the plain, unsealed envelope from the empty bottom of my locker. Heart pounding out of my chest, I slid out and unfolded the paper that had a single sentence printed on it.
I know your secret.
…
cục cưng – darling, dear, beloved, or literally "beloved lump" (Vietnamese)
LoRaWAN – a Low Power Wide Area Networking (LPWAN) communication protocol that works on LoRa, a wireless radio frequency technology (operating in a license-free radio frequency spectrum)
…
A/N: I've missed you! Thank you all for sharing your thoughts :) I adore your reviews and re-read them often.