“Good. I’m starving,” she declared before I could say anything else. “Let’s go eat dinner. Keep that on. I love the expression on Mrs. Duval’s face when she sees you in something I would wear.” She seized my hand and pulled me along.

She was right about Mrs. Duval. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head softly, mumbling to herself as she went back and forth from the dining room to the kitchen.

At dinner, Kiera reminded me about getting the club’s tattoo on Friday.

“That’s when we’ll get your ears pierced, too,” she said.

“What will be our reason for not coming right home after school?” I asked. Mrs. March probably would approve of pierced ears, but I couldn’t imagine her approving of tattoos.

“I’ll tell my mother I had to stop at the mall to pick up some makeup. That’s one thing she understands and approves of, cosmetics. Besides, it is the start of the weekend. We don’t have to rush home to do homework—not that I ever do, anyway.”

“Does she know you have a tattoo?”

“I don’t bathe in front of my mother anymore, Sasha, and certainly not in front of my father. Besides, they both know that if I wanted to do something like that, I’d do it with or without their permission.”

I was still quite nervous about doing it, but I felt I couldn’t back out now without turning all of the girls against me. Kiera didn’t talk about it any more. She went on and on about different boys and other girls at school whom the club members were considering, and she told me more about each of the girls themselves, especially whom I should listen to more and trust more. It was truly as if I had been taken into her confidence now, and there was nothing she wouldn’t tell me. She lived up to her word after dinner, however, and didn’t disturb my homework and practicing of the clarinet.

Grover picked me up after school the following day, as Kiera had a therapy session. During the day, I did notice that more boys were looking at me because of the clothes I was wearing. Both Ricky and Boyd made a point of telling me I looked hot, and all of the girls in the VA club complimented me. I saw the envy in the faces of the girls in my classes, too.

“You’ll need us more than ever,” Deidre whispered. “Boys will be coming at you like flies to honey. Make no promises or commitments until you speak with one of us.”

I thought I had felt as if I were floating when I had just entered such a school, but now I really was lightheaded and happy. I dared to think that maybe I was beautiful; maybe I was just as pretty as or even prettier than Kiera.

Grover was surprised and amused by how many boys accompanied me out to the parking lot, each trying to get me to pay him some special attention.

“I guess you’re adapting pretty well,” he said before driving off. He rarely said anything, so I was pleased and actually felt myself blushing. I waved when I saw Kiera driving away, but she didn’t notice.

Either because we were friendlier now and she was assuming more of a big sister’s role or because she had reached some important realizations about herself, Kiera complained less and less about her therapy and behaved much more nicely and kindly toward her mother. I still saw the suspicion flashing in Mrs. March’s face, but even she began to relax more. On Thursday night, after dinner was over and we were heading up to our rooms, Kiera claiming that she was trying hard to do better in her schoolwork, Mr. March asked me to follow him to his office.

“I’d like to speak with you a moment, Sasha.”

Kiera paused, too.

“You can go up, Kiera. I just need to talk to Sasha right now,” he said.

Kiera looked at me with fear and warning in her face, but she didn’t linger. Mrs. March followed Mr. March and me to his office. He smiled at me as soon as we entered.

“There’s nothing wrong, Sasha,” he said. “You can wipe away your look of anxiety. On the contrary, there’s something right.”

He went to his desk and took a cigar out of a box. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing with his cigar toward the red bullet leather chairs. I sat, and he lit his cigar.

“You could wait until she leaves, Donald,” Mrs. March said. “Not everyone loves the stench of cigar smoke.”

“Oh. Sorry. Does this bother you, Sasha?”

“No, sir.”

There had been a time not so long ago when the aroma of a lit cigar would have been more like perfume when compared with the odors surrounding me.

He leaned against the front of his desk.

“First,” he began, “I want to thank you for giving Kiera a chance to redeem herself when it comes to you. You have every reason to hate every cell in her body. I know it looks like I’m totally aloof from all that goes on here, but I assure you, I’m not. Both Mrs. March and I have kept in close contact with Kiera’s therapist, and we’re very happy with her progress.”

“We hope it’s real,” Mrs. March said.

“I think Dr. Ralston would be a better judge of that than we would, don’t you, Jordan?”

“I’d hope so. I have a closet full of Kiera’s broken promises to us both.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Storms
Source: readsnovelonline.net