Misreckon

Chapter 5 - Rain on My Parade

Twiddling her thumbs and looking around the reception impatiently, Cora was awaiting a meeting with one of the head teachers of her year group. She had been told, via the school email, that she was to be there at three in the afternoon and that it was in regards to her university application. Both nervous and excited throughout the whole school day, she prepared for the worst and hoped for the best. 

Whilst she sat in the reception hallway, on a lone chair beside Mrs Ashcroft's door, the receptionist received a call, murmured a frustrated "Okay" and placed it back down.

The reception was modern, with white and blue accent furniture and decor which mirrored the schools logo colours. The large metal clock read two fifty-four to which Cora could have sworn said the exact same time ten minutes ago. She was notorious for being early. 

"- but she's actually in an online meeting and after that, she has a student to attend to so you may have to have to wait at least twenty minutes." Mr Holland, the head of student behaviour, explained with a stern voice as he entered the reception with a student in his shadow. I took my attention back to my hands, examining my faintly chipped white polish as I didn't want to make it obvious that I was listening. 

"Twenty minutes ? I can't, I have important things to do and I won't miss them all because you want to take pictures of my mug." My eyes widened and my curiosity got the best of me, I looked up to see Dean. My stomach churned when I saw his face: a busted lip and a bruised neck and cheekbone. The bruising was prominent and unmissable. 

"This is a safeguarding issue and I've had many teachers express their concerns so I cant let this go on without documenting it, with proof." Mr Holland stated with a hint of sympathy. 

"I've told you all a thousand times, it's just from my boxing club. We play rough but it's all fair and controlled. I appreciate the concern but really, this is unnecessary." Dean reinstated charismatically. The pair were now stood in front of the reception desk whilst the receptionist observed the conversation intently. It was strange. This was the nicest I had ever seen Dean, especially in such circumstances. Which all the more made me feel offended, as though I didn't deserve his kindness. 

The phone rang again, she picked it up and placed it back down. 

"Cora, you can go in now." She ordered kindly, causing my once unnoticed presence to be noticed by the two conversing men. 

I caught Dean's gaze, he appeared baffled and confused. 

Im assuming he wasn't aware that I attended the same school as him. 

"I'm sorry Cora but I desperately need to talk to Mrs Ashcroft, it'll only be a minute." He smiled, rushing into her office. I turned to look at the receptionist who simply shrugged with an apologetic smile and typed away at her keyboard. I sat back down with a sigh. 

"Well if it isn't the grandpa-lover, Cora Edmundson." Dean announced, far too loud for my liking. 

"Don't call me that." I demanded, hoping the receptionist didn't hear. 

He stepped closer towards me and looked down to face me. 

"How come you're here? Got into a little trouble? Maybe you flirted with one of the senior teachers and got caught?" He teased, I rolled my eyes at his idiotic remarks. 

"Oh no, that was last week actually." I joked. 

"This week, I got called in about university."Dean's smile faded. 

"And I have to admit, neither me or Mr Holland seem to believe your boxing lie." I shrugged. 

He rolled his eyes. 

"I don't mean to overstep but you seem like you're in a difficult situation and I just want you to know that it's okay to get help." I assured him, his painful bruises still horrifying me. 

"Awe! Are you going to offer me a hug too? Get over yourself, I don't need anyones help because i'm not in any danger and I can take care of my-f*****g-self." He spat in a low tone to make sure the receptionist didn't hear his profanity. 

"Dean, I know I don't know what's going on but I see the way people treat you around school. I'm not pointing it out to make a joke or anything , I'm just genuinely and truly concerned about -" My speech was cut of by the opening of the door and Mr Holland leaving. Our conversation was cut short when Mrs Ashcroft ushered me inside. I could feel his gaze follow me inside. 

Cora's interview consisted of a discussion about her application and the fact that her grades had fell a lot last year, but that it was evident they were picking back up again. She sat there, listening to Mrs Ashcroft praise her academic comeback and was told to keep it up. 

I left the office with a smile on my face. Which soon turned into a frown when I saw the scene in front of me: Vincent was stood with Dean, arguing with Mr Holland. I couldn't hear them exactly but it was clear that they were arguing about Dean's bruising. 

Aware of how passionate Vincent was towards the subject of his bruises, Cora considered the idea that Vincent was the cause of them. It seemed very possible. Yet she still wondered what it was about him that made both her father and mother fear him. 

As I quietly walked past the scene, I caught eyes with Dean, I wasn't sure what emotion I saw within them, but I knew that he was uncomfortable. My heart dropped every time I saw his scars and bruises. His jokey demeanour was nothing but a mask, like they say, the happiest are usually the ones that have felt the most pain. 

I turned slightly before leaving the reception, Vincents voice booming above Mr Hollands, the receptionist watching intently. 

Buzzing in my pocket, I picked up my phone and answered as soon as I saw my fathers caller ID. 

"I'll be there in about 25 minutes. I just have to finish up fixing our sink and then fill up the gas." He explained. Unfortunately, as I was nearing the exit of the school, the glass doors displayed grey, rainy skies. 

"Okay, see you soon." We said our goodbyes and hung up. 

Grey skies, rain, wind. This was my favourite weather, however I only enjoyed it when I was viewing it from indoors: in a way, it brought me comfort. I didn't feel obligated to go outside and instead, I could study with the pattering rain in the background. 

Beneath the roof of the entrance, I stood hugging myself for warmth. Today I wore a black turtleneck, blue jeans, white trainers and a white winter coat. I always felt uncomfortable wearing the coat as it was expensive, being a notoriously unlucky person, I knew that one day I would stain it. My mothers wrath being my real fear. 

"If you even f*****g dare to come back home with more bruises i'll give you more to add on. We don't need your school on our back since the police are already doing that." I heard Vincent warn, I didn't want to turn around and make it obvious I could hear them. Now it was clear that his father didn't give him the bruises, so who did ?

"Dad there was three of them. Im surprised I actually got out of there with just this." Dean stated, i'm assuming he was referring to his wounds. 

I turned slightly. 

"Cora ?" Vincent asked.

 Gosh darn it. 

"Oh, hi!" I smiled, the pair stopped beside me: Dean copying Vincent. 

"I wasn't aware you and Dean go to the same school." He stated, looking between Dean and I. 

"I wasn't either until about about a week ago. It's a big school with a lot of students so that's probably why." I explained honestly. 

His brow rose.

"What are you doing waiting in this weather ?" He questioned, frowning.

His peppery grey hair had been gelled to the point it appeared as though he had been stood in the rain, how I detested such hairstyles. Clearly, he was a man of old taste: always wearing classical formal wear. It made me wonder what his job was, a lawyer perhaps. His strong demeanour hinted such a thought. 

"I'm just waiting to get picked up." I replied, watching his eyes widen. 

"Come, i'll drop you off." He ushered, I shook my head with a smile. 

"It's alright but thank you. It won't be long plus I have this big coat to keep me warm." I joked. 

"Where do you live ?" He asked, ignoring my previous comment. 

"On the East Side, just beside the Clayton Park." I explained. He nodded and began searching in his blazer pocket. I watched as he took out his keys and passed them to Dean. 

"Dean, get yourself and Cora in the car. I need to make a quick phone call." He dismissed us and began to type into his phone. 

Dean looked at the keys in his large hands, in disbelief, the flashy BMW keys expressing their wealth. They reminded me that I should text my dad and tell him not to pick me up, I did exactly that. 

We set off, more like I followed Dean who most likely knew where the car was. He turned his profile to my left and gave me a quick glance. 

"What ?" I asked, a hint of annoyance as he had a habit of looking at me as though I had something on my face. 

"He's never that nice." He blurted. 

"Well maybe he just felt obligated." I shrugged. He chuckled sarcastically. 

"Obligated ?" Dean questioned. 

"He's never known the feeling. The world revolves around him and only him. He's the boss." Dean huffed. 

The rain was minimal, it was simply spitting rather than pouring yet my hood was still up. 

"You must take after him. If i'm not mistaken, you were rather rude the first time we met and, you know what ..." I paused. 

He looked at me and raised his brows, as if to say what? 

"- you're still rude." I stated blankly. 

"Sorry that I don't bow down to you and flash you a smile every time I see you Miss Everybody-Loves-Me. At least I'm not fake like those friends of yours." He declared. I looked into his eyes, he was right. Painfully right.

I was too afraid to admit it, too afraid to have to deal with it. 

"That's rich coming from you, don't you think fake Boxer ?" I asked sarcastically. We neared the black BMW and he stopped a couple steps behind the boot and pressed the button to unlock the car.

"You won't be repeating that to anyone." Vincent warned, his voice jarring me for a moment as I didn't expect him to be there. 

"It's none of your business but i'm sure you understand, given the family secret you've been burdened with, you'll be used to keeping your mouth shut." Though he said it kindly, his passive aggressiveness shone through his words. 

Baffled, I simply nodded. 

I watched as Vincent got into the car. Dean and I looked at each other from two sides of the car, no words were said but a common understanding was shared: Vincent was intimidating. 

Getting inside, I was hugged by the rich leather interior that screamed luxury and comfort. To my right, sat Dean, I wondered why she chose to sit beside me rather than his father. The thought was instantly dismissed when I noticed a large black bag that sat on the front seat. 

"So, Cora, how come you decided to work for Richard." Vincent pondered, starting the car. 

"I needed some extra money for university." I explained. His brows rose faintly, I watched his reaction in the interior mirror. 

"Are your parents not helping ?" He asked in a condescending tone. 

"They offered but I want to be financially independent. They've already done soo much for me." I attempted to present myself as grateful, when in reality, I would have gladly taken their money if it was of an honest background. 

"I see. Do you not have a trust fund ?" He further questioned. I momentarily glanced at Dean, who was surprisingly aware of his fathers rudeness when blatantly asking about my finances. 

"No but even of I did, I would probably give it back to them as it would have never really been my own. " I proclaimed with honesty. 

"You hear that Dean ? Cora here sounds like a good role model." Vincent blurted. 

Dean ignored. 

"Tell me your address and say it clearly dear." He ordered. I wasn't used to such luxury therefore I couldn't help but smirk with confusion and look at Dean with disbelief. He appeared bored and accustomed to this lifestyle. 

"Thirty-two Pear tree Close." I recounted with volume, after I had done, the machine repeated my address back to me and Vincent confirmed it on the touchscreen device. 

Cora recounted her conversation with her mother, to which she was informed that if her father wasn't caught and all his product wasn't taken, that they would live a wealthy life. She found herself in a pit of irony, her father had done enough to bring shame to the family name but got caught just before it would have been economically worth the risk. 

"Dean, you've got another client today. Dont bring shame to my business again and do your job properly tonight." Vincent complained, I felt bad for Dean and the way his father talked to him. Although, I was intrigued by what type of job he had to do and who this client was.

"I won't." Dean assured him. I turned to my window, watching as we passed nearer and nearer to my house. I lived in a quiet village, on its very outskirts in a small, brown bricked house that matched the rest of them. I hated our house, it brought me haunting memories. 

Vincent turned on the radio to a pop channel. We all sat in silence, but not a comfortable silence, one with complete awkwardness. 

I was baffled when we pulled into my drive, my father was stood outside and got closer to the car. 

"Thank you Vincent. I really appreciate the lift home, you saved me from getting drenched." I thanked in a light hearted manner. 

"It's no problem dear." He turned to me and smiled. 

"I'll see you tomorrow Dean, well, maybe." I shrugged. Before I could open the door, my father tapped on Vincents window and he rolled it down. 

"Hello old friend." Vincent greeted him with a booming voice, they shook hands. They appeared like two very different men, Vincent was a successful and wealth, whatever his job was. And my father was wearing his work clothes which included boots, baggy cargo trousers and a tight black tee with white paint stains. 

"Vincent! It's been years. I'm sorry I didn't phone you, ever since Cora told me I have been flooded with work." He sighed. 

"No problem, I completely get it. How's your wife ?" He asked. 

I glanced at Dean for a moment, seemingly bored. 

"My Dad is a big talker so dont be surprised if you get home late today." I joked. His face remained the same, if not, more serious. 

"My father won't allow that to happen." He confirmed. His deadpan nature constantly baffled me, responses were impossible to make to his own. Instead I shook my head and thanked Vincent again. 

My father greeted me but told me to go inside and that he would take a while. 

Shivering, Cora removed her shoes and ran up to the solace of her room. Taking a long, scolding shower she felt as though she was being hugged by the heat and found herself ready to sleep. She undressed herself and put on her snuggly pink hoodie and black leggings. In between brushing her hair, she messaged Anaya and told her that she would arrive in twenty minutes. 

"Here you go." Anaya said cheerily, passing me a caramel latte. She was wearing a white onesie that resembled a polar bear, her short brown hair was tucked behind her ears and her brown eyes gazed intently at the beverage as she drank it.

I followed her actions, the liquid running down my throat and instantly providing me warmth. Its a scientific fact that people who like to continuously take long hot showers are actually lacking physical touch and connection, well, for the most part. Hot teas and lattes are my 'hot showers' I guess. 

"Mhm, so tell me, have you found a flat yet to rent out ?" She questioned me. 

"To be frank, i've been avoiding it." I sighed. She tilted her head slightly downwards. 

"I just know that as soon as I start looking at the prices of accommodation, a laptop, books i'll start to stress. So i'm just giving myself some more time." I shrugged, watching her smile turn into a frown. 

"I wish you would just put aside your pride and take the money your mum and dad are offering. Its silly putting yourself in a position like this." Anaya stated sympathetically. 

"You wouldn't get it. You have to all this money, perfect parents with your perfect little life set out for you. I don't have have that and I never once had the chance but i'm trying, i'm trying soo f*****g hard to be that 'perfect' me for my own expectations and everyone else's. Accepting the money would t*****e me, it's dirty money and I fear it would rub off on me." Is what Cora wished she could say. But to blow her cover and unleash her demons at once would be an awfully big mistake, as it would not only affect her life but her parents' too. She can't spill the secret. 

"I'll be fine, not to worry." I assured her cheerily, being as convincing as possible. She was used to doing this, putting on her mask quickly and effectively to ensure no one would catch her.

"If you say so. About accommodation, my parents found me this gorgeous apartment for me to have alone and it has this huge balcony with a view of the campus. I just can't wait to start my art course and paint outside on my balcony whilst the sun sets." Anaya hopefully sighed, she proceeded to show me pictures of her apartment and it was indeed beautiful. A modern, spacious place. 

"It's perfect for you !" I cheered. 

She giggled and nodded.

"I can't imagine how much of a wreck i'll be when I leave my mum and dad. I know that I chose the closest university but it still feels too far. They're my best friends, aside from you of-course." She nudged me with a smile. 

Cora watched her friends eyes glisten when recalling her love for her parents, her glassy eyes highlighted the fact that she was insanely close with them. It made Cora happy, seeing her this way. But of course, deep down she yearned to feel this way. Cora was eager to leave her parents, she was entangled in their web and she was itching to get out. The longer she lived at home, the more hate she had for her parents and she couldn't stop drowning in the sea of resentment. 

She hated her mother for putting her father first, for lying, for letting this happen. She hated how un-motherly she had become towards her: they barely talked, did anything together and most of their conversations consisted of arguments. 

She hated her father for doing this. She hated the feeling that stuck with her, the moment the pit in her stomach ached when she found out he had lied "You're the most important thing in my life." then proceeded to ruin it.