High School Hit List (CLIQUE BAIT)

5. serial killers and empty seats

"You should go change. That computer will ruin your vision, you know."

I rolled my eyes, glad I was facing the opposite direction to her so I didn't have to paint a smile on my face.

The golden dress Mom had tried to convince me to wear to the party was still hanging on the back of my door, and I pulled it on just for her. Part of me was stupidly clinging on to the possibility of tonight working out. Her enthusiasm was a contagious, even if it didn't quite feel real.

I hadn't seen Dad all week, he usually left after I went to school and slept in until then, and then spent his evenings at the office. Some nights, I was convinced he didn't return home at all.

Mom drove us in the Mercedes Dad had brought her only months before. It was like he thought that gifts substituted affection. I guess it worked in my favor. I mean, I thought he was an ass anyway, so at least I was getting something out of it. But Mom on the other hand? It broke her, though she'd never show it.

"He did say he'd be a bit late," Mom said when we entered the extravagantly decorated restaurant. It screamed expensive meals, ones that probably consisted of a few leaves arranged decoratively on a plate.

Of course he'll be late, I thought silently. He probably has to say goodbye to the secretary he's been holed up with all week.

No, it probably wasn't his secretary. He wasn't that tacky. He wouldn't choose a working-class woman. Probably a bored housewife, or an exclusive exotic dancer. I shuddered at the thought.

We sat at the table which he'd booked. He'd done that at least, arranging a little table for three by the window. Mom went into overdrive pretty quickly, filling in the silence by demanding I tell her everything about the party.

"Cute boys?" she asked with wide eyes, flattening her manicured fingers over the leather-bound menu.

"Hardly," I said. I scrunched up my nose. "High school boys."

"Oh, the horror," Mom said sarcastically.

Really, it wasn't high school boys that were the problem. It was just the particular ones at Arlington that had turned me off of dating. This meant that I was one of the few girls in senior year who'd never had a boyfriend, let alone a first kiss.

"I was just like you at your age," she went on. "Very cynical, always giving my parents attitude."

"I don't give you attitude," I said pointedly.

Her amused smile let me know she wasn't offended. She had aged gracefully, partly due to a few surgeries and miracle creams. People said I was a mirror image of her in her youth, with warm brown eyes and chestnut hair. I thought she was beautiful, the corners of her mouth worn with smile lines from her wide grin that she used so often. But, her confidence had taken a nosedive when Dad had decided he preferred women under thirty.

Half an hour had passed, and the empty seat beside us remained unoccupied.

"It's probably traffic," Mom insisted. "I heard there's roadworks, which is odd for a Saturday don't you think? Perhaps there was a crash and they've had to close up the highway. Or his driver was late again, he really should fire that man..."

I tuned out her rambling to check my phone under the table. Dammit, Bishop.

After another hour I was beginning to grow tired of Mom's excuses. I sighed, giving her the most sympathetic look I could muster. "We should just order dinner."

Mom gave me a weary look. I'd cut her off from her discussion about repaving the driveway, and I expected her to scold me. But instead, her smile wavered and her gaze averted from mine and towards her menu. "Yes... maybe we should."