The Boiling Point | ✔️

05 | the villas

SUMMER

"How was it? Tell me everything!"

My mom whisks me into my new room and pulls me down to sit on the bed with her. She drove up with me on Saturday, wanting to look at the town herself and help me settle into the Villa's house.

Dad, of course, was more than happy to stay at home and pretend nothing important was happening. You'd think I was flushing my life down the toilet by coming to culinary school.

"It was great, but it was mostly orientation stuff today," I say, watching her bright eyes. "The campus is beautiful, though. And I met these girls in my class, Lola and Fawn. They were really nice."

"Any cute guys?"

"No one that stood out," I lie, hoping she didn't catch my hesitation. I can still taste that cherry lollipop on my tongue. 

No matter how much he got on my nerves in a single day, Ashton's devilish smile will be seared into my brain for eternity.

"Boys are the last thing on my mind, anyway. I just can't wait to get into the kitchen tomorrow... start proving Dad wrong."

"And you will." She twirls a lock of my hair. "But I want you to enjoy yourself. Try not to think about the whole trial year thing, okay? It wouldn't exist at all if it were up to me."

"I know." But it's impossible not to think about it. If I screw up this chance, then it's an uphill battle from there.

"I walked around town and got you some last-minute things before I go back," Mom says, getting up and fetching a plastic bag on the desk.

This room is pretty simple. As a guest room in the house, the décor is neutral and minimalistic. Beige carpeting, one closet, a window overlooking the street, and a bathroom next door in the hall. The rest of the house, on the other hand, is full of tasteful designer décor and hardwood floors.

I'm staying with Denise and Mark Villa, a housewife and businessman. I haven't met him yet, but Mrs. Villa comes across as highly strung and sickly sweet. The rules I got at school aren't the only rules I've received since I arrived in Cloverbrook. Taking out the trash is the tip of the iceberg.

Mom unpacks the bag next to me on the bed. "Some chamomile tea, an extra pair of gloves. Seems like it'll get cold here. A few extra pens, aspirin, hand sanitizer, condoms—"

The water I'm sipping from my bottle goes down the wrong way, and I cough myself into a tomato as she stares at me.

"Mom, oh my gosh, I don't need—"

"Oh, please. Give it a rest." She impatiently flaps her hand at me. "How clueless do you think I am? You really think I believed you went on the pill at sixteen to help with acne? You never even had acne, but you did have Aaron. I'd have to be an idiot not to know what you two were up to."

I could skip the staircase and jump right out the window for the two-story drop that would get me out of this conversation. But she's not wrong.

Aaron was my only serious boyfriend in high school. We broke up five months after he took my virginity, and two weeks later he was dating Tara Moore. I'm not going to pretend I wasn't satisfied when Tara dumped him at prom after she found the texts he'd been sending me begging to get back together.

That night he left alone, and I left with a crown.

"Now it's not like I want you burning through these," Mom says, tapping the box of condoms. "But it's better to be prepared."

"Okay, Mother. Let's change the subject, please. And I told you, boys are the last thing on my mind."

She subtly smiles as she continues taking things out of the packet. "Maybe not right now, but life is unpredictable."