Teresa Mummert - Pretty Little Things

“That’s the third fucking time it’s gone off.” I groaned and rolled away from him and felt for the floor below my feet.

“Why are you in my room?” I asked as I stifled a yawn.

“Interesting question coming from you,” he mused.

“Do you need something?” I glanced over my shoulder at him, taking in the stubble along his jaw.

“I need you to get ready so we can leave.”

“You’re going to have to give me some privacy.” I rolled my eyes and pushed from my bed as I made my way to my closet, feeling like I hadn’t gotten any sleep. I pulled one of my uniforms from the hanger and tossed it on my bed.

“Five minutes.” He turned and left the room, leaving the door wide open.

I groaned, mumbling expletives under my breath as I shoved it closed and pulled off my black tank and shorts.

I was ready in ten minutes, and Colin was standing outside my door with his arms crossed over his chest. I finished buttoning my white shirt, leaving it untucked over the gray plaid skirt. I opted for a high ponytail, not wanting to take the time to curl my hair. My bruise was fading, so a dab of concealer and a quick coat of mascara and I was ready to start the day.

“Those uniforms should be against the law,” Colin mumbled as he followed me down the stairs in a white T-shirt and faded jeans. He pulled open the front door, taking my book bag from my hand as he waited for me to walk out in front of him. I slowed my pace as he walked casually to the passenger side door of the 300 and pulled it open for me. I slid in, careful not to expose myself in my skirt, which I had rolled a couple times at the waist so it wouldn’t be as long. Colin shook his head as he closed the door after me, but for once he didn’t scold me for my fashion decision.

It took everything I had not to force her to fix her fucking uniform, but I didn’t have time to argue with her. We were running late, and I needed all the time I could get to work on Connor’s cases to get them organized and ready for his return.

With his health, he was barely keeping up without my help.

“Did you finish your assignment?”

“Yeah,” she answered but didn’t elaborate.

“I’m curious as to your conclusion.”

“My thoughts on corporal punishment?” She glanced over at me, and I knew she was thinking about my scars. “I think it’s horrible.”

I turned down Whitaker Street toward town. “It’s not always a bad thing. I know why you think that, but sometimes it can be used for…pleasure.” My eyes cut to her, and she had her fingers knotted together on her lap.

“I don’t see how you can say that after what was done to you.”

I fought against a smirk. Was it really possible that she didn’t understand just how twisted and fucked up I was? When all this was said and done, would she be able to make it out of everything unscathed?

“I’m glad you don’t understand.” I pulled onto Chaplain Drive and into the parking lot of her school. The parking lot was nearly empty. She pushed open her door to hurry inside.

“Annabel,” I called after her, and she turned, bending down to look at me. “Your bag.” I grabbed the strap of her Coach messenger bag and held it out for her.

“Thanks.” She smiled and closed the door. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I waited for her to cross the lot and enter the school.

I drove downtown to Connor’s office to grab a few files. As I entered, I winked at the receptionist, who was busy answering the phone.

“Bentley Law,” she answered, but she placed her hand over the receiver and whispered to me, “Welcome back, Mr. Bentley.”

The office reminded me of home, lots of oversized ornately carved mahogany and natural stone tiles. I grabbed the stack of files from the top of Connor’s desk, pausing when I caught a Post-it note with the letters “D.O.G.” written across it. Descendants of God. I picked up the folder and glanced over my shoulder before flipping it open. I slid it under the pile in my hands and decided to take it back to the house so I could read through it without prying eyes around.

“Rachel, can you forward my calls to the house?” I asked as I walked back into the lobby. She smiled, nodding once as she continued with her call.

I tossed the folders onto the passenger seat and hurried back to the house, my curiosity getting the better of me. I pulled out my cell and hit the speed dial for Connor.

“You up to no good?” Grace asked without even saying hello. She followed her question with a rich laugh.

“Always,” I replied as I slowed to a stop at a red light. “How is Connor feeling?”

“He’s still in bed. The coughing kept him up most of the night.”

“Will you have him call me when he wakes? I have a few questions about a case.”

“I will do that. Is the house still in one piece?”

“Of course.”

“And Annie?”

“Annie is also in one piece.” I laughed, turning into our long driveway.

We said our good-byes, and I ended the call. I grabbed my work and made my way inside and up to the third floor. The next few hours blew by as I immersed myself in the files.

Before I knew it, it was time to get Annie, and I had hardly gotten anywhere. I leaned back against the door of my car, soaking in some of the hot Mississippi sun as I waited to for Annie to come out of her school. A cluster of girls walked down the front steps, and I smirked as they giggled, looking over at me. My eyes were drawn to Annabel as she walked down the steps, alone. Her face lit up when she saw me, but she turned when a boy called her name. I took a step from the car, not sure if he was bothering her. She laughed, her hand going against his chest, and I struggled to keep my feet planted.

She continued walking toward me, her ponytail swaying behind her with each step. I fixed a smile on my face and walked her to her side, pulling open the door. My eyes locked on the boy who’d just been talking to her. He stared back for a moment before looking to the ground. Bitch. Satisfied by his submissive response, I rounded the front of the car and got in next to her.

“How was your day?” I asked, my eyes dancing over her face.

“It was school.” She rolled her eyes as she reached for the radio. I grabbed her hand before she could change the station. She pushed her teeth into her lower lip as I held it for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

“This is a good song.” I turned up the volume as Hinder played.

“I can’t wait to get my own car.”

“I like driving you around. Makes it easier to keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need you to watch my every move.” She rolled her eyes.

“I like watching you.” I saw her fight against a smile as she looked out her door window.

“You could at least let me drive.”

“I’m a driver, not a passenger.”

I was beginning to lose my mind. I was stretched out on my bed as I bounced a tennis ball off the wall.

My stomach growled, but I refused to leave my room until he left. I didn’t need another lecture about how I was an embarrassment. Smoking a little weed wasn’t that big of a deal. All he had to do was flash his stupid tin badge, and all of my problems disappeared. It made me hate him even more. Just sweep everything under the rug, and no one bats an eye. I threw the ball with a little more force, and it bounced off to the other side of my room, hitting my dresser before rolling under my bed. I couldn’t wait to get out of this fucking hellhole.

“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath as I groaned and sat up, my hands gripping the edge of the mattress. I looked over at the full-length mirror across the room. My skin was pale from barely leaving the house for the last few months. Without my shirt I was still muscular and lean, but I no longer looked as healthy. Dark circles marred the underside of my bloodshot eyes. I pulled down my maroon starter cap low on my head to hide them.

I glanced past my own reflection to the corner of the window that was visible behind me. I could see the trees off in the distance. I shook my head and ran the heels of my hands over my face.

“Smokey the bear,” I chuckled to myself as I dug into my jean pocket and pulled out a bowl that was already packed full of weed. I pushed from the bed and crossed my room quietly, listening for signs of movement. The house was silent. I slipped on my sneakers but didn’t bother with a shirt. It had been humid for days, and I could use a little bit of sun. I shoved the bowl back in my pocket, feeling around for my lighter and cigarettes before heading down the steps and out onto the back porch. I stretched my arms over my head, gripping the porch roof with my fingertips.

I twisted to my left at the sound of a female voice and grinned as I caught Natalie stepping off her porch, her cell phone to her ear.

“Nat,” I called over to her. My voice was deep, and the sound carried. She stopped, startled, but shook her head as she said something into her phone. I couldn’t help but grin. She had a crush on me but pretended she hated me. That is until we were alone. Then she couldn’t keep her hands off me.

“What do you want, J?” she asked as she walked closer, her arms folded over her chest and her face screwed up in anger.

“Where you flying around to now, little Nat?” I pulled the cigarettes from my pocket, knocking the pack against the heel of my hand to knock one loose. I stuck it between my lips and squinted into the sun as I dug for my lighter.