The Curse of Summer (BOOK ONE OF THE SEASONS TRILOGY)

Chapter 2

Rhett

I slammed the car door shut, reveling in the sound which seemed to break through the deafening silence in the quiet neighbourhood. There were no sirens wailing as police sped past, no babies crying, no dogs barking at passers-by and no couples screaming at each other – in other words, it wasn't the city.

I hated it.

"Thanks." I muttered to the taxi driver as he handed me my suitcases.

I paid him and watched him drive off into the sunset before I turned around and faced the haunted house where I'd be living for the next few months – or until my mother decided to pull me out from under my father's rule. I glared at the large, spacious building – a literal mansion painted white with green ivy painted onto the east wall. Yeah, my father couldn't even take care of real ivy! I was surprised that the neatly manicured hedges managed to survive my father's "care," although I suppose he had a gardener or five to look after them for him.

"Home, sweet home." I muttered again, swinging my backpack onto my back and grasping my tattered cases.

Walking up the drive, a motion caught my eye and I turned my head to see a figure standing at the window of the neighbour's house. It was too far to see clearly who stood there, but I'd bet the shoes on my feet that it was one of those stuck up snob-sons of that doctor.

"Bloody inquisitive, interfering neighbours..."

They made me want to strip off my clothes and give them something to watch – but their sheltered minds would be scarred for life and they'd probably sue. Public disturbance or some such s**t. And I couldn't afford to go to juvi after what happened last time the cops picked me up. I still wanted to get into a good college after all and no one accepts a jailbird with open arms.

I set my cases down by the door and stared at the huge iron-lion knocker which hung off of the large front door. A friggin knocker! Like it was the dark ages where no one knew what a door-bell was. I lifted the knocker slowly and let it drop back against the wood, sending an echo all through the house. I was about to "knock" again when I heard footsteps heading toward me.

The door opened slowly but smoothly, without a creak.

"Master Rhett, welcome. We've been expecting you. Do come in."

Mrs Porter hadn't changed in the four years since I had last been here. She was still just as round, grey and friendly as she had always been. In fact, apart from the few new wrinkles, she was exactly as I remembered her – white apron and all.

"Thank you Mrs Porter."

I turned my manners on, knowing that the sweet woman could turn into a dragon within a split second. She smoothed her grey hair back into its severe bun before she nodded, gesturing for me to pick up my bags. I did as she bid and followed her upstairs to where my bedroom was situated.

Mrs Porter had once told me that the room had been my nursery as a toddler and that my father had updated it each time I had come to visit, ensuring that it always remained my room. After that, I had noticed every little change he had made to the room and took it as a game to see how much he had changed each time I returned. This time, nothing seemed to have changed. The walls were the same pale blue, the bedding dark blue and the same pictures of boats hung all over the room. A framed photograph of happier days stood on the nightstand next to the bed.

Clearly he didn't think I was going to return after the last time I was here.

"You get yourself settled and then come down to the kitchen, dear." Mrs Porter smiled at me, closing the bedroom door behind her.

I stalked over the framed photo on the nightstand, picked it up and looked down at the happy faces of my parents and a toddler version of myself before placing it face-down on the nightstand. It may have been a picture of happier times, but it was also a reminder of what I had lost – a family.

I fished my cellphone from my pocket and dialled my mom's number, composing myself for a few seconds before I pressed the green button.

"Hello?" a masculine voice answered the phone.

"Hi Terry, it's Rhett." I replied, wondering why my mother's boyfriend of the month answered her phone. "Is my mother around?"

I heard her giggle in the background.

"Umm... she's not hey Brent." the guy lied, not even bothering to get my name right.

"Well can you tell her I got to my father's place okay? I'll call her tomorrow."

"Sure man. Cheers."

Terry slammed the phone down on me and I knew my mother wouldn't get my message. Not that she really cared. She never cared about me whenever she had a boyfriend about... which was most of the time. When I was little it used to bother me, but now I was just so used to it I couldn't give a damn. Besides, her boyfriends usually left their wallets lying about unattended and didn't dare accuse me of stealing anything since that might put a damper on their relationship with my mother.

Don't get me wrong, I love my mother and living with her was WAY better than living with my father, but her boyfriends always came first.

I grabbed my case and chucked it into the bare closet before I strolled down to the kitchen. It was certainly Mrs Porter's domain and always smelled of freshly baked breads and cakes – utterly delicious.

"Ah, there you are child. I thought you had got lost in this old house since you haven't been here in so long." she attempted to joke as she led me to a chair and shoved a slice of chocolate cake in my hands.

"I still remember my way around." I plastered a smile on my face and took a bite of the cake, even though I wasn't hungry. "Delicious as always, Mrs P."

She blushed at the compliment and bustled around the kitchen getting a cup of tea ready for me.

"I told you father that you would be no trouble this time, you're a good boy despite being brought up in the city. You just got in with the wrong crowd and could have landed up in hot water if your father wasn't as influential as he is..." she chattered while I half listened, not really interested in hearing the details of the event which almost cost me all I had worked for.

Mrs Porter looked me up and down as she handed me my tea, her keen eyes taking in every inch of my appearance from my short, spiked up black hair to my almost threadbare jeans and well-worn shoes.

"Into the car with you, we're going shopping." she ordered, waiting for me to protest.

"But Mrs Porter, I don't need anything from my father." I argued, knowing where she was heading.

She sighed, slightly irritated with me.

"I don't care if you don't need anything from Mr. Douglas, you need something from me. I will not have a child in my household dressed like a pauper. The other housekeepers will start rumours about my inability to look after you and it will be the end of my spotless reputation."

I relented, knowing that she would win no matter how much I argued. Kissing her softly on her cheek, I hooked my arm in hers and guided her to the car as I used to when I was younger – grabbing her handbag as we exited through the entrance hall. Mrs Porter handed me the car keys and prompted me to open the passenger door for her - I think she's the only person on the planet who's ever forced me to remember my manners.

"Okay, dear boy. Let's be off like a herd of turtles." she exclaimed as I started the car, rolling my eyes at her absurd phrase.

The drive to the nearest mall look longer than it would have done if we were in the city but then again everything took longer in the suburbs. When we finally arrived we struggled to find a parking spot before she dragged me into a shop I knew would be beyond my budget as the son of a single mother.

"This place is beyond my price range, Mrs Porter." I protested, looking in horror at the price tag of the nearest item of clothing.

She sighed again but didn't bother to reply as she handed me different items from the racks. Soon, my arms were piled high with clothing – which would have been awesome if I was a girl... but I'm not.

"Okay child, see what fits you." she commanded.

I dragged my feet into the change-rooms and tried the mass of fabric on. They all fitted but they were all far beyond my budget. Hell! A single shirt could pay the rent of my mother's place for a month! I pulled out the cheapest shirt from the bundle and pushed aside the curtains of the dressing room.

"Only one fits." I handed her the shirt, hoping that it would placate her.

She looked at me sceptically before she ordered the sales lady to fetch all of the items I had left behind in the dressing roomand put them on my father's account. Protesting was pointless – she didn't listen to a word I said.

"Enough child. You need a good outfit for dinner tonight. The Summers have invited you and your father over for dinner and there's no way you can back out of it."

"The Summers?" I gasped in horror, remembering the stuck up snobs I had been forced to deal with growing up. "Can't I just pretend to be sick or something?"

Mrs Porter glanced at me with a stern expression on her face.

"Apparently not." I muttered under my breath.

She insisted on driving us back to my father's house – I couldn't bring myself to call it home, because it wasn't. I think she drove because she was afraid I would drive us to the nearest police station and insist that I was being kidnapped, or something to that effect. It was a good plan... but I know that the cops don't exactly like me here.

"Your father will see you in his study now, Master Rhett." Mrs Porter said in a stern voice which almost dared me to oppose her.

I wanted to – I truly did – but I didn't. I didn't want to give the woman any reason to dislike me just yet since she held the keys to getting me out of the dinner with the Summers family. Instead, I turned on the charm I knew I possessed, kissed the old lady on the cheek and sauntered off to my father's study.

I didn't bother knocking on the door – he usually never even heard it anyway. The room had changed slightly, a new painting hung above the fireplace and the lamp on his desk had originated from somewhere else in the house. The wall opposite the fireplace was covered from floor to ceiling with books shelved according to their topic. I knew from when I was a child that all of my favourite children's stories were on the lowest shelf to the left. I used to spend hours reading while my father worked... back then I didn't mind it all that much.

"Hello Father." I announced myself, breaking through the silence.

He clearly hadn't heard me come in because he jumped in his seat and looked at me with a startled expression written across his face.

"Rhett, I wasn't aware that you had arrived."

He stood, coming over to me and offering me his hand to shake... I ignored it. He looked older than I remembered. Streaks of grey tainting his once inky black hair and fine lines had made their appearance on his face.

"I arrived over an hour ago." I admitted coldly.

He dropped his hand and looked me up and down.

"You've... changed." he said, indicating the eyebrow ring.

I had planned on adding a tongue ring to my facial decorations just to piss the old man off, but I decided against it. I had a better use for the cash I had stolen from Terry's wallet.

"I've grown up." I replied in the same tone of voice.

He nodded to me and took his seat, gesturing for me to sit in one of the two empty seats on the other side of his grand mahogany desk.

"Your mother said that she was going on tour with her boyfriend."

"Yeah, Terry's a musician. I would have gone too but Mom said that school was more important." I lied.

Terry was the back-up drummer for a really crummy band which was touring pubs and clubs across the country in the hope of getting noticed... like that would ever happen. I wouldn't be caught dead tagging along with them – not that Mom would have wanted me there. Having a kid my age gave away her real age which was rather unflattering apparently. I had begged her to let me stay behind in the flat and let me carry on at my old school instead of having to move miles away to my father who I didn't get along with and to a new school which I dreaded. It hadn't worked and she'd even subleted our apartment to make sure I didn't run back there once she had left with Terry.

"Terry sounds like a great guy."

Clearly my father was picking straws now, trying to find a topic to prolong the agony of our interaction.

"Yeah, he's awesome" was my sarcastic reply.

There was a pause as I could see the uncertainty on my father's face, unsure of if I was joking or being serious. I didn't clarify.

"I trust you have something decent to wear? We've been asked to dinner by the Summers family - my friends and neighbours."

I nodded, thinking of the awesome leather jacket I had "borrowed" from one of Mom's exes.

"Yeah, I have."

Another awkward pause.

"Well, I'd better let you get back to your getting settled. You know where I am if you need anything." he said roughly in a way to get rid of me.

Quite frankly, it just made me want to stick around longer. I nodded to him before pushing myself out of the chair and heading out of the door, closing it firmly behind me. I found myself heading outside to the back porch where my father's two Dalmatians lay in the afternoon sun. One lifted its head, barked a quick welcome and then went back to enjoying the sun. I found myself smiling at it and went over to pat it.

"Looks like you're my only friend here, spotty." I told the dog, pulling my phone from my pocket and reading the missed call which had come through earlier.

A single glance at the number told me who it was – Diana, my current girlfriend. I sighed and returned the call begrudgedly.

"Hey baby! I was waiting for your call." she said as she picked up on the first ring.

"Hey. Yeah, been a bit busy this side."

"I miss you already, boo-boo."

I rolled my eyes, wondering how on earth I had ever been trapped in a relationship with this one."

"Yeah, Di... I have to go. Will call you later."

All I heard was "I Lo..." before I hung up.

I needed to end it with her, and fast. Long distance relationships never worked, and it seemed as if our brains were light-years apart. Hell, the only reason I dated her in the first place was so that she'd stop stalking me – and quite frankly the physical perks of it were amazing.

"It's time to say goodbye to Di." I muttered to myself.

Woof.

Clearly the Dalmatian agreed. I patted its head again and was rewarded with a slobbery lick on my hand. I didn't mind. I love animals, they seem to get me when no one else does. The dog followed me as I went back inside, his paws making clicking sounds as his nails tapped against the tiles.

"Out, Milo." Mrs Porter scolded the dog, chasing him outside with a wave of her hand.

She shut the door firmly and turned her gaze onto me. I felt as if I should cringe, but I didn't. I refused to. I had been beaten up by bruisers bigger than Mrs Porter and I refused to be chastised by the little lady, no matter how terrifying she was.

"Dogs stay outside, Rhett. I won't have their muddy paw prints all over my Persian carpets. Dinner is in an hour so you'd best go and get dressed." she smiled at me, without even raising her voice.

I did as she told me to do. After a quick shower using soap which smelled distinctly of lemons, I styled my hair with care and put on my best clothes – ones I had brought with me and not those that Mrs Porter had bought me this morning. My black skinny jeans moulded themselves to my legs as my white t-shirt clung to my muscles I had worked so hard to define. Last of all, I tugged on the pair of black Converses (which I bet Terry didn't even realise had disappeared) and the black leather jacket I had won in a pool game at the bar down the road from my place.

I wanted to make an impression. I wanted to show those stuck up snobs that I can take care of myself, without my father's money. Hell, without my father too.

The old grandfather clock downstairs chimed, signalling the time for us to head over to the nightmare-dinner. I checked myself out in the mirror once more before I went downstairs confidently.

My father was dressed in a pair of grey slacks and a white polo shirt, completely the opposite of my attire. I didn't really care. I didn't want to look like him any more than I had to, to tell you the truth. It was bad enough that we shared the same inky black hair, blue eyes and build.

"Ready?" he asked, looking me up and down briefly without saying a word about my appearance.

I nodded and followed him as we made our way next door. The Summers' house was just as I remembered it – neat and well looked after. The manicured garden and stepping stones which lead to the front door were perfectly placed and created an ethereal quality. Even the moss which grew between the grooves of the stepping stones added to the garden's look. My father knocked once on the front door before he opened it.

"Hello? Anyone home?" he called out as he stepped inside and urged me in after him.

"In the kitchen, Bill." a deeply masculine voice replied.

My father motioned for me to follow him as he headed toward the room which was filled with laughter and warm chattering of voices. The room seemed so welcoming, and yet I felt as if my legs had turned to cement... I couldn't move.

"Come on, Rhett." my father said with an emotion in his voice which I couldn't read.

I nodded and commanded my legs to obey, taking step after precarious step until I landed up in the kitchen.

"Ah, Rhett! You've grown into a strapping young man." Mrs Summers beamed at me, kissing my cheek.

"Thank you, ma'am." I heard myself reply, as if from a dream.

I shook hands with Mr Summers.

"Dinner is almost ready." Mrs Summers called out. "Boys, why don't you make yourselves scarce so that I can finish this up without interruption? Show Rhett the new pool table or something."

I hadn't even noticed the three scowling faces which were seated in the corner of the room. The Summers boys, and possibly the only mortal enemies I had in this side of the country, stood up and one by one left the room. Mrs Summers shot me a glance and I realised that I was meant to follow them. I pulled my composure together and followed the guys to dimly lit room. In fact, the only lights in the entire room were two hanging lights which hung directly above the pool table.

"The pool table." one of the twins (I'm not sure which one... but he wore the blue shirt tonight) gestured.

The other one chuckled and rolled his eyes, forcing me to remember their mother's suggestion to "show" me the new pool table.

"It's great." I replied dryly, not willing to let them see my agitation.

"Oh come on Matt." the oldest Summers said to the twin in blue. "Be nice."

The twin smirked and looked at his identical counterpart dressed in green, a knowing look written all over his face.

"Hey Mike, care for a pool game?"

The twin in green grinned and pulled out a pool cue.

"Against who?"

"Against Dan and Rhett. They seem to be good friends."

The twins looked at each other and smiled before they turned to Daniel and myself. I heard Dan groan softly but chose to ignore it.

"Okay. You're on." I accepted the challenge.

I should have known it was a set-up. Daniel was useless when it came to pool and I found myself being the only capable one on our team against two guys who actually knew which side of the pool cue to hold. The twin in green (who I'd come to know was Mike) hit the white ball and I watched as it bounced expertly around the table until it hit the black ball into a corner pocket.

"Beat!" Matt cried out, whacking Mike on the back.

Dan didn't utter a word, he place down his cue and headed to the mini-fridge by the bar, handing out bottles of ginger beer to each of us.

"Dinner's ready."

Mrs Summers' voice called from their grand dining room. Starving, we all dashed into the room and stood behind our assigned seats, trained not to sit until the women in the party sat.

"Is Alana not joining us?" my father asked.

Mrs Summers flushed and turned to Dan.

"Be a darling and go and hunt down your sister for me."

Sister? The stuck up snobs have a sister? A faint memory of a girl with bright ginger hair, stacks of freckles and braces assaulted my mind and I shook it away... no wonder they'd locked her away every time I had come around!

"I'm sorry, Alana seems to disappear on us. Please, sit while we wait." Mr Summers said brusquely, pulling back his wife's chair for her to sit.

I had prepared myself for the same gangly girl I had stashed away in the back of my memory, but instead I was confronted with a girl not that much younger than I was - if at all – who was completely opposite from what I had expected. Her hair was a rich auburn which shone in the candlelight, a few faint freckles could be seen on her nose and her blue eyes lit up as if filled with laughter. Dan lead her to her seat between his seat and mine.

"I do apologise. Time ran away from me." she blushed prettily.

"Not a problem." my father smiled with warmth unlike the cold hatred he had shown me every day since I could remember.

As she sat, I mumbled under my breath "took you long enough".

It was a spiteful remark and I instantly regretted it, but she didn't seem to have heard me so I guess that didn't matter. I sat in silence for most of the first course, not daring to open my mouth in case I said something stupid or ill mannered.

"Mikey told me that you're from a city across the country." Alana said sweetly.

I nodded.

"And they didn't teach you manners there?" her voice dropped to a near whisper.

Suddenly, I knew that she had heard me. I had to resist the urge to smile.

"Oh they did." I retorted, leaving the rest to her interpretation.

She remained silent, picking at the salad on her plate. I could tell to the second when she figured out that I had secretly insulted her. Her fork stabbed at a piece of feta with a violence I could tell she wished to use on my neck.

I smirked silently, chewing the rather bland food.

"Matt, please pass me the salt." I asked the twin in blue across the table.

He smiled at me and handed me the salt without a word. From the corner of my eye I saw Alana's eyebrow quirk briefly, but didn't pay it much notice. I should have. One shake of the saltcellar resulted in a pile of the white substance all over my food as the saltcellar's lid came off.

"Oh dear!" Alana gasped.

The twins covered their laughter with artiful gasps as their mother rushed to hopefully rescue my food. It was beyond saving.

"Oh well, I'll make sure you get more of the main." she smiled at me, squeezing my hand.

Giving up on the one twin, I turned to Mike. He seemed to be a bit more grown-up than Matt.

"How did you learn to play pool like that?"

Worthless chit-chat but at least it would stop my father attacking me for not being friendly.

"Oh, you wouldn't know it." Matt replied, not giving his brother a chance to open his mouth.

I immediately felt my blood boil.

"I asked Mike." I half snapped.

Mike looked at his brother, a confused look plastered on his face.

"But, I am Mike." the twin in blue said.

Realising what they had done, I groaned internally and remained silent until dinner was over.

"Care for a nightcap, Bill?" Mr Summers asked my father. "I have a few things I want you to look at."

"Oh certainly, John." he replied, following him.

I helped carry dishes into the kitchen while the Summers boys blew out candles and cleared the table.

"Thank you for the great evening." I thanked Mrs Summers who kissed my cheek in response.

"I'm rather tired now, so I'd better be off. Please tell my father that I have left."

She smiled to me and told me that she'd see me again. I escaped as quickly as I could, shutting the door firmly behind me. I was half way down the path when I heard footsteps rushing up behind me. Poised to fight, I swung around and came face to face with Alana.

"What do you want, b***h?" I asked viciously.

She was certainly in her brothers' plans to get me into s**t with my father again, just as they had last time.

Eyes wide and mouth opening and shutting like a gold fish, she stared at me. Then, without warning her hand shot out and slapped me hard across my cheek before she turned and rushed back inside. Swearing silently at her, I walked back "home", cheek red and stinging from her assault.