The Encounter

“Please tell her, Ava. I tried, but your mom seemed… distraught and a little distracted.”

I need to get out of here. Principal Keely’s kindness is worse than when they don’t care. And it’s not like I can tell her the truth, so I say, “I will. But my mom probably got that job she was expecting, so we will be moving to Los Angeles.” I’m on autopilot now. All I want to do is get out of here. I’ve been saying that exact line since I was six.

Literally.

Except when I was six, I actually believed we were moving to Los Angeles. Now I just say it to make whoever is talking be quiet. Because we’re not moving to Los Angeles. She says that to make herself feel good. She’ll replace Joe with a Tim, a Robert, a fill-in-the-blank, as long as they are rich.

My mom has never worked. Well, not in the traditional sense. She does spend hours every day keeping up on the latest trends, what’s in and what’s not.

Following the latest millionaire who’s just left his wife. Or the billionaire who needs someone to keep him company while he cheats on his family. Sadly, this takes an enormous amount of time, clothing, and plotting. You’d be surprised how expensive it is to keep yourself young.

I’m not complaining though. She’s my mom and I love her. I’m her best friend and she’s my only friend. I’ve traveled all over the world and I’m not even fourteen yet. Paris, Germany, Canada, Italy.

We lived in Hong Kong for three months when some rich tycoon was in need of a look-alike for his wife. Not joking, his wife hated him and all the socializing. I guess she had enough and decided to stop attending events. Like, she didn’t leave her mansion. Enter my mother. As crazy as it was, she pulled off pretending to be this other woman. We both got a lot of amazing clothes. The jewels he gave my mom really helped us through a rough patch last winter before she met Joe.

I’m sort of an expert at hocking stuff. One time, we were so desperate I ended up pawning my mom’s Chanel sunglasses and Tag Heuer watch while she waited outside.

“You have so much potential, Ava. I hope you know that.” Principal Keely brings my attention back to her. “You’re a beautiful, smart girl. If you don’t move, please let her know. I’m positive the Saddingtons will sponsor you.”

I’d rather eat trash out of a dumpster before I let any Saddington sponsor me, but I won’t say that. Nodding again, I shut my locker and try to breathe so my cheeks stop flushing, then turn to her.

“I will, and thank you.”

She stares at me. She knows I’m lying.

“I’m ready.” She keeps staring, so I head toward the doors. I mean, I appreciate her concern, but she doesn’t get it. She can’t. People like her will never understand the way we live. But whatever, my mom and I will make it; we always make do. In a way, besides losing Joe’s money, it will be great having Mom back—at least until she gets distracted by going into husband-stealing mode.

I open up the thick glass doors and turn when I hear her heels clicking behind me.

“Good luck, Ava.” Her eyes are full of worry.

A sense of dread slithers up my spine. What the heck did my mom say to her?

“Thank you. And good luck to you also.” I straighten my shoulders back, walk down the old concrete steps, and open the iron gate that lets you out into the madness of New York City.

“Ava?” I take a breath. What now? I switch my heavy bag to my other shoulder.

“Please, let me know if you need our private car to take you home.”

Again, that weird nervous feeling that something bad is going down makes me bite my bottom lip. “I need to call my mom.”

“Yes. If she’s too busy to come get you, the car is at your service.” What the hell? Thankfully I’m saved by the bell, its loud chime instantly making the school come alive, and instead of just me outside with Principal Keely, tons of kids now swarm around us.

“I need to open the gates.” She speed walks off, which is kind of impressive. Those heels have to be at least four inches. Chauffeurs picking up kids line the street, which is already busy. Drivers are honking their horns, cabs are speeding by, and for a second I almost feel lost.

I lean back against the gate and close my eyes. I need to call my mom. Something bad has happened. I know.

“Get it together, Ava,” I whisper.

“You okay?” My eyes bolt open as I stare into turquoise eyes with ridiculously long black lashes.

“What?” I snap, because it’s him, of all people. I despise this guy. He thinks he’s a god.