Fast-Tracked Page 10

  Avery gave me a quick tour. It was clear that his idea of ‘not much’ was very different from mine. I had only seen pictures of boats this large. It wasn’t a yacht, but it had plenty of space. Up top there was an area for sunning, a small table with a curve-around bench, and even a small grill. Down below there was a full kitchen, bathroom, and an area for sleeping. It definitely gave us more seclusion than I was comfortable with. I was about to suggest we just have lunch on the dock, when Avery started the boat and headed toward the middle of the lake.

  Once we were in the center of the lake Avery turned off the boat and disappeared below. I intentionally remained above deck. This was starting to feel very much like a date – despite my very clear wishes otherwise. Then Avery reappeared with a tray of assorted sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade.

  “Avery, this is too much,” I protested. “You know I’m not interested in dating anyone.”

  “You think lemonade and sandwiches are a date? Someone has definitely fallen short in their efforts to woo you. If this was meant to be a date there would at least be some flowers and champagne.” Avery sounded amused, but I could see the hurt in his eyes. “This is just two friends hanging out, enjoying lunch and a swim. Nothing more.”

  “Okay, friends.” I smiled and grabbed a sandwich.

  Apparently satisfied that I had accepted his explanation he poured some lemonade for the two of us and sat down beside me.

  For the rest of the week Avery met me every day for lunch. But he refrained from bringing me on any more excursions and either brought lunch with him or escorted me to a local restaurant. It made my days more bearable. I needed someone to talk to. Camille had ignored all my attempts to contact her and the girls hadn’t gotten over their anger. If anything it had grown. I had started eating my dinners in my room just to avoid having to pick vegetables out of my hair.

  As much as I wanted to punch each one of them into a bloody stupor, I didn’t think that would go over well with Mrs. Glabough. She had already shown herself to be a valuable ally. I wasn’t about to ruin that for a few moments of satisfaction.

  Chapter 9

  During Friday’s lunch, Avery announced that Grayson, one of his friends I’d met at the club, was having a get-together. He advised me to dress similarly to when we went to Club Night and to be ready by six o’clock.

  When we arrived at Grayson’s four-story home, I quickly realized Avery’s idea of a get-together was a full blown party. I also realized just how far out of my league I was. Grayson’s home was amazing. The front was a beautiful white brick with ornately carved accents. Flowering shrubs and fruit trees dotted the yard. All four floors inside the home were lavishly decorated, and there seemed to be a different style and theme to every floor. But I was the only one who seemed the least bit impressed with any of it. Avery just appeared bored when I pointed out any of the décor or architecture.

  The ancient Greeks and Romans were clearly the influence on the first floor, while the second floor had a definite Spanish origin. Suits of armor and ornately jeweled gold and silver swords dominated the third floor. Upon finding a rendering of Camelot, I decided it was supposed to be a representation of the medieval era in Europe. I couldn’t quite figure out what the fourth floor was supposed to be. It looked like a whimsical wood nymph had been given free rein to decorate as she chose fit. Even though the style was haphazard and childish, it was anything but cheap. On close inspection I realized the vines of the leaves that adorned many of the walls were comprised mostly of crystal, but roughly cut emeralds set in gold smattered it periodically.

  “Wine, ma’am?” a young girl hesitantly asked me. The look of apprehension on her face told me she was worried I’d be offended that she dared to bother me.

  “No thank you,” I said and gave her what I hoped was a friendly and a reassuring smile. I don’t know if she took it that way, because she quickly darted away. “She can’t be more than ten,” I said to Avery.

  He just looked back at me blankly.

  After a moment I snapped, “She’s too young to be a worker.”

  “Oh. It’s expected for the family members of servants to assist in the workload.”

  Looking around I noticed young servants seemed to be floating around everywhere just waiting to serve everyone’s needs. There was clearly an uneven ratio of children to adult workers.

  “Workers aren’t allowed to have more than two children. Just how many servants does Grayson have?” I asked apprehensively.

  “I’m sure many of them are orphans. Without parents to provide for them they have to earn their keep somehow.” He spoke offhandedly, and he didn’t give any of the children so much as a second glance.

  “So those children work instead of going to school,” I said, beginning to understand the bigger implications of what he said. Avery just nodded as he waved over a servant carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres.

  “You simply have to try these cheese puffs. They’re to die for; unfortunately Grayson’s family absolutely refuses to let their chefs give out the recipe. Horribly selfish if you ask me,” he said as he tried to pop one in my mouth.

  Slapping the cheese puff out of his hand, I shot him a scandalous look. Flabbergasted and enraged, I darted down the stairs and out of the house. When Avery finally caught up to me I verbally released my anger. “How can you stand around and stuff your face when you’re surrounded by little kids being used that way? Without access to school or parents to educate them they’re doomed to a life as an orange worker. It’s tantamount to slavery!” I huffed.

  But my reaction only seemed to amuse Avery – which in turn made me more annoyed. Putting on a more somber face he said, “Look, I can see how it might appear a bit shocking to you, but what Grayson’s family and most other fast-tracker families are doing is really a kindness. Most of these kids wouldn’t survive to adulthood if left on their own or in an orphanage. As servants they have a warm bed, ample food, and if they provide good service, a lifelong job.” Avery gently grabbed my arm to guide me back inside, but I pulled away.

  We both just stood there not looking at each other while I fumed. I wasn’t convinced. I had studied the history of slavery with my mother. While there were many families that treated their slaves well, there were those who were unspeakably cruel. I highly doubted that the centuries had changed man’s nature that greatly. That meant that there were fast-trackers out there that were horribly abusing helpless, orphaned children.

  It made me sick to my stomach how these people could be so nonchalant about it – and even more so that they could tout themselves as humanitarians! If orphanages were that horrible, the conditions should be corrected, not circumvented like this. I felt like marching back inside and telling each and every one of them off and then taking the next air-tram home, but that wouldn’t change a thing.

  At that moment I knew the career path I would take. It was one that would give me both the power to eventually help Byron and the children. I turned and feigned a look of embarrassment. “You’re right. I’m just being silly.” I allowed him to escort me back inside.

  It didn’t matter that I loathed everyone inside of the house. I didn’t have to like them. I just needed them to like me. So I made myself stop noticing the children, the excess of everything, and everyone’s sense of entitlement. Instead, I began to transform myself into a fast-tracker social butterfly.

  Avery must have been pleased with my performance. Before long he stopped introducing me to people he knew and left me on my own to mingle.

  I thought I was doing well on my own until I met Autumn Rayne Eggleston. The moment her cerulean eyes locked onto mine, I knew I was in trouble. I had noticed her earlier in the evening and had decided to avoid her. While she smiled and talked pleasantly to everyone around her, there was a hardness behind her eyes and smile that made me uneasy. As I listened to her pleasant tone I realized it had an edge that commanded respect. She was the queen bee of the fast-trackers. She was a girl who could make or break people at wi
ll. One day she could be very useful to me – but right now she posed my biggest threat.

  I pretended to be ignorant of her stare and her approach toward me as I attempted to weave through the crowd. If I could make it to the stairs, I could get lost in the crowds again and avoid a potentially embarrassing confrontation. Unfortunately the respect Autumn commanded extended to crowds. People automatically cleared a path as soon as she approached and she was able to quickly corner me.

  My eyes searched the crowd for Avery, but he was nowhere to be found. So there was no hope of him diverting her attention for me.

  “Autumn Rayne Eggleston,” she announced like she was royalty. She actually held out her hand like I should kiss her ring.

  Not knowing what exactly she expected me to do, I held up the sweaty glass I had in my right hand to show that my shaking hand was damp with its condensation. I placed it on the bar behind me and started patting my hands dry on a napkin. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Zandria Scannell.” I hoped I didn’t sound too dorky or too intimidated.

  Flipping her curly locks of whitish-blonde hair behind her shoulder she quipped, “I’m not familiar with that name. Just where are you from, Zandria?” Her eyes focused on me like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

  I knew she was trouble. It had taken her two seconds to deduce what so far everyone else had ignored. I did not belong here. I decided confidence and honesty were my best strategies with her. “I’m from Massachusetts.”

  “Oh, what part?” Her smile stretched out into a thin evil line. She was enjoying the anticipation of crushing me.

  “Plainville.” I made sure I maintained my smile and eye contact as I spoke.

  “Plainville?” she scoffed. “I’m not aware of any gold or even silver residences in that area of the state.” Her voice was now drenched with contempt.

  I felt like cringing away, but I was determined not to appear intimidated as I responded, “There aren’t. Both my parents are blue level. So I grew up in Plainville, but my new living quarters are on level nine of the college.” I saw her eyes flicker when I mentioned the ninth floor, and hoped she might think I had some value if she knew Mrs. Glabough had singled me out. I was also glad that Avery had corrected me from calling it New York Academic College. Real fast-trackers simply assumed there was only one college worth talking about – theirs.

  “So because you somehow scored abnormally high on your assessment you took it upon yourself to crash a fast-tracker party?” she asked in a loud and incredulous tone so that everyone within earshot now had their eyes trained on us.

  “Of course not,” I said mimicking her incredulous tone. “I met Grayson the other night at Club Night and Avery invited me here today.” Despite my increasing desire to flee I maintained my eye contact.

  “Oooooh. So you’re Avery’s pet,” she cooed back. All at once her entire demeanor changed. The contempt was gone. She appeared warm and friendly once more. “So far no one has been able to snag that boy’s attention. I’m intrigued.” Slipping her arm into mine she commanded, “Come. You and I simply must talk.”

  As she led me across the room and towards a private parlor, I knew everyone’s eyes were on us. I would be the topic of discussion for the remainder of the night. My social standing had suddenly soared higher than I could have hoped, but I had to be careful. It could just as easily come crashing back down.

  Autumn had dubbed me her new best friend, but I knew pet was a more accurate description. I spent the rest of the night answering a barrage of questions from her. She seemed determined to uncover just what made me tick and just what it was about me that made both Avery and Mrs. Glabough take notice of me.

  I wasn’t much help. I honestly had no idea what had made them notice and I sure as hell wasn’t going to reveal my relationship with Byron to her. It was too painful, too personal, and just the sort of thing a girl like her would try to use against me if she could.

  So I darted around my true feelings and did my best to redirect the conversation to safer topics, like the childish reaction of the rest of the girls to the pink powder prank. It wasn’t overly successful: she kept trying to pry out of me how I had gotten Avery hooked.

  I finally just blurted out, “I haven’t got a clue what made him decide to talk to me on the air-tram. I figured after I told him I wasn’t interested in anything romantic he’d leave me alone, but so far that hasn’t happened.”

  Her reaction surprised me, but highlighted an obvious truth I had so far missed. With a cackle that sounded strikingly similar to a hyena’s, she razzed, “You bitch. Are you seriously telling me after all these years of girls throwing themselves at Avery all he was looking for was a bit of playing hard to get?”

  I looked back at her apprehensively. Was her friendship a guise to get me to disclose my strategy so she could crush me and then use it for herself to chase after Avery? I hadn’t considered it before now. Girls like her don’t usually have to chase.

  She relieved my worry by squishing me in a one-armed hug. “You couldn’t have set your sights on a better catch. So many girls are going to be so jealous of you – but don’t worry: they won’t do anything about it. They wouldn’t dare chance my wrath,” she bragged. Then, with a thoughtful look she added, “Of course, I should be mad at you. I have spent too many of my valuable hours trying to match that boy up with someone. I actually considered pairing him up with Hayden, but at least now we know that never would have worked.” She smiled as if we had just shared a scandalous inside joke. I smiled and pretended to understand what she meant.

  Just then my tablet indicated I had a call. I glanced at the caller ID. “Speak of the devil,” I joked as I held it up to Autumn so she could see it was Avery.

  “Don’t you dare answer it! He left you alone at the party so just let him suffer and worry.” There was no room for debate in her voice.

  I didn’t want to directly challenge her, so I said, “It’s getting late. He’s probably looking to take me home.”

  “Go home? Are you kidding? You simply have to stay here tonight. I’ll make sure Grayson saves a spare room for you. His day-after brunches are simply delightful. Plus, afterward you can come to the club with me. Daddy’s holding a banquet and there’s sure to be plenty of interesting people you just have to meet.” I tried not to cringe as her squeal hit a painful high pitch.

  “I didn’t bring a change of clothes,” I protested. That wasn’t it, of course. I didn’t feel comfortable sleeping in a near stranger’s house and wondered just what the ‘after’ part referred to in the day-after brunch. I had committed myself to becoming a true fast-tracker, but there were definite limits to what I was willing to do.

  “Fortunately I always bring several. You’re about the same size as me. I’ll let you borrow one for brunch. Plus it gives us the perfect excuse to go shopping before the banquet.” There was definitely no room for debate this time, so I didn’t.

  When we were both thoroughly exhausted, Grayson led us each to our own spare bedrooms to sleep. I couldn’t help but notice the bemused look on his face as Autumn wished me goodnight. I couldn’t decide if it was caused by the fact that I was the last person he expected to have sleeping under his roof, or something more sinister. So I made sure I locked the door behind them.

  Despite Autumn’s insistence that Avery should suffer, when I noticed the six missed calls from him, I quickly shot him an email that explained I was spending the night and tomorrow with Autumn. Then I thought about Mrs. Glabough and sent her an email that explained I was spending the evening over a girlfriend’s and would be back by tomorrow night. Even though there was no curfew, I couldn’t spend that much time away and not expect her to worry.

  I didn’t think it would be possible, but I slept through the night soundly. I didn’t wake up until late in the morning when Autumn knocked on my door. “Morning, sleepy,” she greeted as she thrust an outfit into my hands. “Don’t take too long in the shower; brunch will be ready soon.” And then she bounced out of th
e room.

  I hopped into the shower and wondered if every one of Grayson’s spare bedrooms had their own bathroom. They probably did.

  My stomach grumbled as I followed my nose to the breakfast table. Autumn hadn’t oversold Grayson’s brunch. About twenty fast-trackers lounged at a long banquet table. Grayson was at one end and Autumn sat at the other. The seat next to her was held empty for me.

  I smiled and nodded my hello to everyone as I made my way past. As I sat next to Autumn, I noted how extravagantly the table was decorated. A tablecloth that looked like antique lace ran the length of the table. On top of it was gold plated silverware and fine white china arranged as if it were prepared for a fancy five course meal.

  Unsurprisingly, that turned out to be exactly what we got.

  I stared down at my plate apprehensively when our third course was served from the wait staff’s silver trays. “It’s steak and eggs,” Autumn whispered with an amused smile. “You better try it before everyone notices,” she warned.

  Taking her advice, I slowly cut a strip of steak off and took a bite. It was a lot more work to chew than the rabbit I was used to, but the flavor was rich. Beside the fact that it was pricey, I could see the appeal of the meat to the fast-trackers.

  The eggs were a different story. I couldn’t get past the fact that what was in front of me had come from a chicken’s rear end – a dirty disgusting bird that walked in its own poop. I continued to eat the steak while I watched what everyone else did with their eggs. Autumn and several others at the table dipped their toast into the yellow center of it, causing it to release a thick oozing yellow liquid. I took a gulp of water to stifle the gag the sight of it caused.

  I noticed others were cutting around the yellow center and only eating the outside white portion. My uneaten eggs wouldn’t remain unnoticed, I realized, so I copied them. Thinking of Byron, I stacked a few pieces on my fork and shoved them into my mouth before I could change my mind. They tasted surprisingly like the protein supplement I was used to. So I forced their origin out of my mind and pretended that they were.