I shrug. “We seemed to get along, and we’re the same age. I thought maybe we could talk again.”
She smiles. “She doesn’t have to be working for you two to talk. You can talk to her anytime. I’ll give you her number.” She pulls a business card from her purse, scribbles the number on the back, and hands it to me. “You can go ahead and go in. I’ll get the backpacks.”
“I can help,” I say, opening the door.
She grabs my arm, stopping me. “It’d be best if you don’t. Brock doesn’t like it when I ask for help. He’s even docked my pay for it.”
“Are you serious? That’s bullshit! I can help if I want.”
“Rumor, please.” She tightens her grip on my arm. “Just go inside. I’ll bring everything in.”
“I thought you had to go help Shayla.”
“It’ll have to wait. My shift doesn’t end until four. I’ll ask Brock if I can leave early.” She lets go of my arm and smiles. “Go ahead. Go inside. It’s a nice day. Maybe you could go for a swim.”
I look at her, trying to figure out if she’s scared or just worried about getting to the other client’s house in time to clean up the mess before they get home. She almost seems scared, but of what? Brock? He can be intimidating but not scary.
“Rumor, you need to go,” she says in an urgent tone, her eyes darting to the house.
I turn and see Brock coming out.
“Where have you been?” he asks as I get out of the van.
“At school. I asked Maria to take me.”
She’s standing next to me now, a nervous smile on her face. “She wanted to see the campus.”
“It wasn’t her idea,” I say to Brock. “I had to practically beg her to let me go.”
His eyes go to Maria, then back to me. “And what did you think?”
“Hated it. I want to go to public.”
He laughs. “You’re so dramatic. Perhaps you should consider acting after all.”
“I’m going inside,” I tell him. I pass by him, then turn back. “I need my backpack.”
“Maria will get it,” he says.
“I don’t want to wait. I’ll just get it now.”
Maria nervously watches as I open the back door of her van and pull out the black and green backpack.
“Let me at least carry it inside,” she says.
“I got it,” I tell her. I walk over to Brock. “You need to get me out of English.”
“It’s a required course.”
“But you have an in with the principal. You could get me out of it.”
“Anin?” He chuckles. “I barely know Principal Edwards. He certainly doesn’t owe me any favors.” He pats my shoulder. “You’ll do fine in English. Ms. Pruitt is an excellent instructor. Now go inside. I’d like to speak with Ms. Gilroy.”
Glancing at Maria, I see the worry on her face. Why is she worried? She didn’t do anything wrong.
When I’m in the house, I look out the window and see Brock talking to Maria. He doesn’t seem angry. Maybe he just needed to tell her something.
As I go into my room, I notice the house is quiet. No loud music. No loud footsteps going down the hall. Braden and Trystan must be out doing stuff. I wish I had something to do. I’m so freaking bored, and when I’m bored, I think of my mom, which is something I’m trying not to do.
