Unorthodox (BOOK 1)

Chapter 12

~Vesper~

"Spill."

"Spill what?"

I roll my eyes and gesture to the inside of the vehicle. It was almost as big as my bathroom. There is a long, grey and black velvet sofa, a small food bar and even a wide, flat screen TV.  The windows that appeared completely black outside, you could now see through it clearly as if no glass is there. Parts of the roof and floor glow electric blue, singly in geometric patterns.

This is putting my living room to shame.

"Oh, that!" Circe casually waves her sunglasses back and forth, watching outside the window, "How I convinced your mom?"

"No Circe. I mean the limo we are sitting in. But really how did you?"

Circe shifts in her seat nervously and I see her scrolling through her phone without a word. Is she ignoring me?

"Circe!"

The girl jolts and tosses her phone at me. Quickly, I catch it before it falls to the ground. "What is wrong with you Circe?!"

"Just look at the phone screen," she says refusing to answer me.

My eyes swiftly scan the phone screen and for a moment, my breath hitches. My miracle worker.

"YOU USED A VOICE CHANGER APP!"

"Voicemod to be precise. I changed my voice to the one of my care- giver."

I desperately suck on my Dum Dum even though it has nothing on it. It doesn't really make a difference though. I'm already panicking. "What if my mom finds out? Do you know how much trouble I'll be in? I just got out of Groundom! Worse, what if she wants to meet your mother?!-"

"Calm down Vesper. I've done this many times before."

"Did they turn out fine?"

She doesn't answer. "As for the limo, it's my dad's. I'm just borrowing it since Talon didn't want to drive me. I couldn't steal his keys either since he has them around his neck by some chain. I don't own a car because my dad doesn't trust me. I don't know why though. I mean- I AM responsible!"

I try to ignore the fact that she did not answer my question as Circe rants on. I glance out the window, watching the other cars drive by on the road. People, particularly kids, look out to see the rare sight of a stretch limo.

It is really obvious by now that Circe and Talon are rich. She came in a limo for me! And then she speaks about it indifferently as if driving to your friend's bungalow with a limo is an every day cup of coffee.

Still, I'm curious. They dress normally like anyone else and they don't seem to have a trace of snobbish behaviour in comparison to Lorraine. Circe didn't even say that she was, leaving me to sort it out myself.  They didn't mention this for the whole week but I guess Lorraine knew. She is a complete, gold-digging leech with money.

As we drive on, I see a man on a motorcycle speedily weaving through the cars; close to crashing into one of them. The guy almost scratches the limo too with his antics. The chauffeur gives a low growl and hear him curse under his breath.

The limo must be his baby.

Watching the motor-cyclist becoming a dot in the distance, I can't help the feeling of gloom that settles over me like a grey cloud. My dad had promised to get me a motorcycle last year. It was a small tradition. Every birthday from the age of ten, I had gotten something on wheels. Not just every birthday; every even birthday. At age ten, I got roller-skates. Twelve; a bike. Fourteen; a skateboard.  For sixteen; I didn't get anything since we had financial trouble. I still enjoyed that birthday though.

This year, I'll be seventeen; which means nothing on wheels. But I don't care. The gifts isn't the reason why I enjoyed my birthdays so far; it's my dad. He always provided the happy atmosphere that made me feel for once in the entire year that I was special enough and was worth being appreciated. It was the time when mom had a smile plastered on her face as she frosted the birthday cake; which always had some mystery center. It could be M&M's or gum-balls or whipped cream. My dad would be sitting down in his favorite armchair, with his ukulele in hand, strumming a Mexican tune. He made it possible somehow.

Then there's the big reveal at 6 P.M. We would make our way to the garage and when the garage door slides up, there suffocating in balloons, would be my new mode of transport for a week. I remember how happy I would be and excited to try it out. My mom will go back inside as my dad helps me learn how to roll with ease on the sidewalk; spending hours until it was dark and me and my gift was one. He was a very patient man.

But all good things come to an end at some point.

After the accident, my bullying got worse. The roller skates were strung up on a telephone line. The red bike was bent out of sorts. And I couldn't do anything but watch them destroy the souvenirs of my growth with their bare hands and the occasional wrench. I tried to fix them, but without my dad's clever hands, all attempts were futile.

"Um Vesper, are you okay?"

Circe looks at me with concern under her shades. Why is she even wearing them? It's evening and she's inside!

Fiercely, I wipe away a  tear threatening to escape. "I-I'm okay," I stutter, "Just fine."

I could tell she's not convinced but she doesn't intrude further. The limo is filled with eery silence.

Not being able to stand the silence any longer, I try to strike up conversation again. I whip out my sketchbook of drafts and search for my two best options that are sure to interest Circe. "So last night, I was working on two different ideas for your ceiling painting. I brought them so that I can see which one you prefer. A or B?"

During the week I have been able to understand the rare specimen called 'Circe'. She tends to have a childish nature; that is carefree, blissful and wild. With this in mind, I know exactly the kind of paintings she would like. So as she examines each sketch, I get the feeling she'll pick...

"B," Circe says with certainty, "I like  the idea of random colors making a picture of something beautiful."

"It's abstract."

"I like it." She hands back my sketches as the limo comes to a stop. "We're here."

A man with a broad moustache and wrinkles opens the door, bowing. He is dressed in a black tail coat with sharp and shiny black shoes and a hat on his head. He must have been the chauffeur, since I couldn't make out his face before. "I told you to stop doing that!" Circe scolds, hopping out after me, "I can open the door myself!"

The man smiles lazily. "I apologize dearly, Ms Grey."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

"Um, where are we?"

Circe looks back at me for interrupting. Confusion must be written all over my face. I know that it should be obvious but I am still trying to process everything I'm seeing before me.

Circe gives the pose of a female presenter on some game show ; showing the lucky winner their prize. "We, my friend," she grins broadly, "are at La Grande Rosa Bianca. The Big White Rose."

I search frantically for my Dum Dum. I need sanity right now.

Circe's smile begins to get gummy. "In other words, we're at my house. The Grey's Mansion."

*&*&*&*

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I hope this is good enough. I know right now this book is coming across as slow, especially when we haven't even reached the exciting part yet.  Please be patient with me. i promise you it will be worth it!

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