Alfred didn't sleep well last night. In fact he wasn't sure if he did catch a wink of sleep at all, considering he remained awake until four in the morning and the next thing he knew his Superman digital clock was ringing at 5:30. He didn't sip a drop of the Prescotts' beer and whiskey, but he felt like crap when he went downstairs.
As he made his way to the dining room-slash-kitchen, he bent down to rub the back of Popcorn's ear. Popcorn was their loyal Golden Retriever of nine years. He wasn't as active as he used to be, but they loved him all the same.
"Morning, honey. Take a seat, I made your favorite." His mom, without even turning away from the fridge, pointed at his plate of bacon and eggs.
"Morning, mom. Dad." Alfred greeted.
His father put down his coffee mug, "Hey, slugger"
"What did I say about using that pet name?" Mrs. Jones swung her hips, closing the fridge door, before bringing the orange juice to the table.
"I didn't hear you come in last night, how was the party?"
"You didn't hear him because you fell asleep on the couch after three cans of beer. He came home late, at 11:30, and he smelled like you."
"Hey!" Father and son turned to her at the same time.
Lorelei rolled her eyes, "Whatever, just finish up your eggs, both of you. Steve, I'll drive you to the shop on my way to work."
"Yes, ma'am."
*
Ethan reeked of alcohol, and Alfred wondered if he even bothered to take a shower last night or this morning.
"You look like shit, man" Ethan was referring to the dark circles around Alfred's eyes.
"Yeah, well, you smell like it" He retorted.
Ethan yawned and leaned on his chair.
As the rest of their classmates filed in, Alfred rubbed the back of his nape as he thought deeply. He then called, "Ethan"
Ethan merely groaned in response.
"Do you. . ." He wanted to ask for a guest list, but then laughed at his own idea. As long as you weren't the cops or a burglar, you were free to enter the Prescott estate when Ethan's left responsible.
"Never mind."
Ethan shrugged, but quickly sat up when the teacher stepped in.
Alfred couldn't focus on today's lecture, his mind was on a completely different topic. He wondered if the girl from before would blackmail him, or just out him as revenge (which he could understand considering Ethan essentially called her fat), but that seems like a horrible thing to do regardless.
"What?" Alfred shot his eyes up to meet Miss Montgomery's. The entire classroom erupted with giggles and chuckles.
"You look distracted, Mr. Jones. Is everything all right?" Alfred liked his English teacher, he respected her greatly; she was nice to everyone and clearly loved what she did. Moreover, she never went out of her way to humiliate any of her students.
"I'm fine, Miss Montgomery, just. . .tired."
"I was expecting to hear the word 'hung-over', but all right. How was the game yesterday?"
"You didn't watch it, Miss?" Tori answered instead.
She shrugged, "Call me a hippie but I hate football"
Ethan booed and she laughed along before resuming her lecture.
First period ended with a new reading assignment. "Don't forget to pick up your copy of Carmilla from the library. I know it's not part of the syllabus but I still want you all to read it; I assure you it makes more sense than a hundred-year-old vampire still attending high school."
The class left the room laughing, all except for one.
"You wanted to speak with me?" Alfred walked to her desk.
Miss Montgomery nodded and gestured for him to sit down.
Alfred remained standing.
"I wanted to talk to you about your reaction paper on Frankenstein..." She pulled out a binder from her drawer, "You got a B."
He didn't know how to reply.
"Um. . . no offense, Miss Montgomery, I mean I love your class and all. . .but I'm not one of those overachievers who freak out when they don't get an A"
She chuckled, "Oh, no. It's just that you're one of the students who keep a consistent record"
"Of no failures?"
"Yes, exactly, and well, I have this one student who's been having trouble with her English lit. I was wondering if you're interested in tutoring her? Her family is willing to pay and we'll find a way to have you work around your schedule."
Alfred stopped for a moment to think. On one hand, he was already exhausted from practice and getting the kind of grades he did required extra effort; on the other hand, his mom's car needed a new paint job and the ceiling in the bathroom has been leaking again, not to mention they needed a new toaster.
"What do you say, Alfred?"
He gave her one of those dazzling smiles, "I'll do it."
After practice and before changing out of his towel, Alfred took a moment to send his mom a message saying he finally found a part-time job.
Her reply came quick for someone who hated cellphones.
Mom: Great! What kind of job is it?
Me: A tutoring job. I'll give u the details once I get home.
Mom: OK but when do u start?
Alfred sighed and texted: Tonight.
Miss Montgomery asked him if he was sure, as he could just tutor the girl every Saturday, before the usual training. Even she probably thought that was too much since football practice during the week usually ended around seven PM.
Alfred thought about it, he really did.
The girl's family was willing to pay him 30 dollars for each session.
It was a no-brainer.
Alfred followed the directions Miss Montgomery gave him and eventually reached his destination within forty minutes. Even from a distance, like something straight out of a Jane Austen novel, the estate screamed of old money, looking very much different from the modern Americana houses in he has seen before.
He sat in his father's worn-down red truck and asked himself what he was doing in a place that was so out of his league.
An old woman wearing a blue, ankle-length dress walked out the front door of the house and then toward the truck.
Alfred rolled down his window.
"Good evening, ma'am" He handed her a folder with his ID, "I'm Alfred Jones, I'm the new tutor. Miss Montgomery sent me"
"Oh, yes, of course. Please, come inside"
Alfred was instructed to wait in the living room, where a man in a suit approached him and asked, "Tea or coffee, sir?"
"I'm good. Thanks." He replied awkwardly.
The butler, Alfred assumed that was what he was, gave a curt nod and turned away, disappearing into a hallway.
Left to himself once again, Alfred looked around. The living room was cream white and muted blues with a hardwood floor, illuminated by a crystal chandelier. There was no TV, but there was a fireplace, and numerous paintings and vases of roses.
"Good evening, young man" A sharp feminine voice had Alfred up and on his feet. A woman with greying dirty blonde hair tied neatly in a bun and wrinkles around her eyes strolled down the stairs, the maid from before trailing behind her.
"Good evening, ma'am" He bowed his head respectfully.
"I appreciate you coming here. I've been informed that you have quite the busy schedule"
"It's no trouble, ma'am."
The woman lifted her chin. She was a foot shorter than Alfred but managed to scare him nonetheless.
She hummed softly and kept examining him.
Before Alfred could begin regretting his decision to wear a simple t-shirt and jeans, the woman's face broke into a small smile, "I'm Jennifer, by the way, but you can call me Mrs. Rosewater. I'll introduce you to my granddaughter once. . ." She stopped mid-sentence and looked to his side.
"Twins, so nice of you to join us."
Alfred's stomach made knots with itself.
The twins were two blue-eyed blondes: A girl who he has never met before but greatly resembled the boy who stood just a few centimeters taller than her. The boy who almost caught him throwing up.
"Alfred, these are my grandchildren, Arin and Allen. Twins, this is Alfred Jones, he will be Arin's English tutor starting today."
"Jones? I've heard of you, captain of the football team, right? I didn't know you guys even knew how to read." Alfred didn't know if she was joking or purposely trying to get on his nerves.
"Please don't take it personally" Allen said, and Alfred felt relieved as he didn't seem to remember their previous encounter. "It's her defense mechanism to insult others so she can feel better about herself."
Arin was about to retort when Mrs. Rosewater interjected.
"Behave yourselves." She ordered and the twins shut up instantly.
"Arin, Alfred will be tutoring you in English lit, considering how you've scared off your previous tutors. Your grades depend on him, so be nice. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, grandmother." Arin said, eyes lowered down on her sneakers.
"Good. Muriel," Mrs. Rosewater turned to the elderly maid, "Please escort them to Arin's bedroom so they can start."
The problem wasn't that Arin was exceptionally stupid, Alfred had noted, it was because she simply refused to pay attention. And she kept asking the most ridiculous questions.
"I'm confused. How the Hell did that doctor bring Frankenstein to life in the first place anyway? Shouldn't that be what people are studying about?"
Alfred resisted the urge to snap the mechanical pencil she lent him in half as he continued to explain, "First of all, the doctor is Frankenstein, his full name is Victor Frankenstein, and secondly—"
"So the monster isn't called Frankenstein?"
"No, it isn't"
"Then what's it called?"
"It's called 'Frankenstein's monster'"
"Doesn't he have a name? Like Victor Junior or something?"
"No, he doesn't."
"Why not?"
Alfred tried not to groan as he turned to the orange-shaped clock on Arin's desk. It was only 8:15. They've been there for less than thirty minutes and Alfred already wanted to just jump out the window, dash back into his truck and leave without ever returning.
Before he could tell Arin that it didn't matter that the monster had no name, there was a knock on the door.
Muriel peered in, "It's time for supper. You're invited as well, Mr. Jones"
"Finally, food!" Arin almost knocked down her chair when she stood up.
Alfred sighed and placed a bookmark between the pages where they left off.
Frankly, Alfred was expecting a grand feast with the twins' parents and grandparents and maybe some other relatives who've been living with them, but instead there was only Mrs. Rosewater, the twins, and him seated around the table.
"Where is she?" Arin asked the butler; Geoffrey, was what they called him.
Alfred blinked and wondered who this 'she' was. The family pet perhaps?
"I'm afraid she's still feeling ill" He replied.
"Still? It's been three days, shouldn't we take her to the hospital?"
"I had the family physician over yesterday to check up on her. Doctor said it's the flu, prescribed her a medicine and some rest" Mrs. Rosewater reassured her.
Allen turned to Alfred to explain, "We're talking about our friend, [Name]. She's living with us for the time being."
Mrs. Rosewater then added, "Don't worry, Alfred. She's a lot nicer than Arin."
Arin blew a raspberry and Mrs. Rosewater rolled her eyes.
Alfred felt grateful that they were including him in the conversation.
"Does she go to Blackwell, too?"
Arin nodded, "Yup, she and Allen share the same homeroom"
"What do you mean when you said she's living with you for the time being?"
Just like that the air was sucked away from the room, everyone had grown quiet.
Geoffrey cleared his throat as Muriel and another maid came in with the food. "Dinner is served"
Again, rather than the full course dinner with appetizers and a giant chicken that Alfred had always imagined rich people ate, the meal was simple enough. (Though still better than what he usually consumed.)
They had steak with roasted tomatoes and scallions, and then cinnamon babka for dessert. It was a shame that Alfred's share would be flushed down the toilet.
"Can I be excused to the bathroom?" Alfred asked politely once he was done.
"It's certainly better than having Muriel clean up bodily fluids in the kitchen." Mrs. Rosewater picked up her teacup, "Geoffrey, please take him to the nearest toilet."
She wasn't as stuck up as she looked. Not all the time.
"I need to go help clean up. Will you be fine on your own, sir?"
"I think I can handle it."
"Very well then, sir" Geoffrey spun around, "Try not to get lost on your way back."
Alfred rolled his eyes.
Before he could shut the door, he noticed that someone was leaning on the wall.
He looked up to find the girl from the party. She wore a pink robe over her pyjamas and her hair in two loose braids. It didn't take much for him to put two and two together and soon realized that she was the friend who'd been living with the Rosewaters.
She crossed her arms, "Are you gonna throw up again?"
Alfred thought about asking her what she meant but figured playing clueless might provoke her, and resorted to confronting her head on.
He copied her stance, playing brave.
"[Name], right?"
She nodded.
"What do you want?"
Her eyes widened and her arms fell to her sides, "Excuse me?"
"Money? How much is it going to take for you to forget what you saw at that party?"
[Name] raised both hands in the air, "I don't know where you got that idea, but I'm not interested in your money."
Alfred swallowed, thinking the worse.
She must've read his thoughts because she shook her head, "Look I don't want money, not sex, not anything, okay? I'm not trying to blackmail you."
He couldn't breathe a sigh of relief just yet.
"Then why are we talking about this?"
She shrugged and then hugged her shoulders.
She looked away, "I don't know. I've read about people with that kind of condition, I guess I was curious"
Alfred's temperature rose. It was true that what he was doing was normal but that didn't mean she had to say things like that—things that made feel like a freak—to his face.
"Condition?" He challenged her.
"Yeah." She whispered, "A condition like mine"
Alfred dropped his arms, blinking several times as he processed what she just said. He didn't expect that answer.
"But whatever" She turned, "It's all in the past now. You better get back to Arin's room before she falls asleep."