SHE (Book #1)

7

Sunday Night**** Tempest's POV

Mrs. Margaret has spent three hours getting me ready.
I watch her transform me into someone I cannot recognize.
My makeup is dramatic, black smokey eye shadow with a deep shade of red for lipstick. The eyeliner wing is so sharp and clean. My eyebrows are shaped to perfection, thanks to the excruciatingly painful tweezing method. It was a long process to get my face together, but in the end, I look beautiful.
She told me to make my hair elegant, but I refuse to blend among them in a prestigious manner but to demonstrate I will not allow their expectations to rule over me. So, I make sure my hair is big and curly and full of life, like Medusa with coily snakes. Mrs. Margaret crowns me with a headband bedazzled with rubies, almost like a tiara. It is here I learn that rubies are the Family stone.
I put on my freshly ironed clothes, standing in the mirror with my white shirt tucked into my skirt and my black thigh-high boots on, and a garter on my left thigh. I stand about five inches taller now. I smile. I look sharp, dangerous, sophisticated, rebellious, a bit murderous, and conniving.

"Well look at you, dear," Mrs. Margaret says from behind me, "You look untouchable,"

She presents me a box.

"What's this?" I ask as I lift the lid. A pair of short, leather gloves are placed inside.

"Every woman wears a glove to these things. It is 'of high class' to refrain from touching people as if shaking someone's hand depletes you from your riches. You wear leather, rather than satin and silk. You are the change every woman needs to see," she looks at me with such adoration and a sense of pride in what she has created, "You walk in there and let them know, the future is a She, not he,"

I slip the gloves on, loving the snug feeling against my hands.
No touching.
No feeling.
No smiling.
No breaking.

I pick up the holster that straps onto my shoulder and carefully place the handgun Frank had given me earlier. I am not expected to use it, but it for precautionary measures. It fits perfectly alongside my ribcage. I slip my arms through my blazer, making sure to keep my weapon covered.

The intercom announces the car has arrived.
Mrs. Margaret and I descend the stairs, where Frank and my Grandfather are conversing. They both turn the head at the sound of my heels clicking against each step.

My grandfather smiles, proudly, "Tempest, you look absolutely beautiful, dear,"

Frank gives me a smile as we all head to the car.
I have my mini-speech memorized.
It's best I don't say too much.
It's best I speak a little.

I still don't want them to know too much.
I have so much more to learn.
I don't want them overanalyzing me and picking out my strengths and weaknesses just yet. I want them to be disturbed by the person they see. I want to wonder where I came from. I want them to put in the effort to find out if I am a threat or a benefit.

"All eyes will be on you from today forward, Tempest. I hope you are ready for the pressure," Gramps warns.

"I can handle the attention. I am planning on staying on the low until I finish my education," I reassure him.

He nods and gives another proud smile.

The venue is a lot grander than I expected. Grandpa steps out in the front of the building, but I  have to enter from the back. Since I am a guest of honor, it is best I stay hidden; plus, I make a grand entrance after Gramp's speech. Frank will be staying with me until further notice.

As we drive to the back of the building, I see some of the wealthy families I have been studying. The Kinsmans walk out of their limo. I see Cole right away as he turns back and helps his sister, Olivia, step out of the vehicle.

She is stunning in a silver dress. As Mrs. Margaret said, she wears what seems to be white gloves that reach her elbows. The whole family walks together to the double doors. Right before we turn the corner, I see Cole part from his family to talk to a tall man.

I lean on the window to get a better look.
The familiar long copper hair shines against the moonlight.
It's Malachi.

He turns his head and looks straight at my window.
I almost think he can see through the tinted windows, as we disappear behind the building.

Frank and I wait in one of the rooms until we are given the clear that everyone has entered the hall. We walk to the sound room, where all the technology has been placed, upon my request. Everything is being monitored and recorded.

"I'll have some of our personal guards help me overlook the place. I will report everything back to you after the evening is over,"

"Thanks, you're the best," I pat his shoulder.

The coordinator comes in to take me to where I will be entering. The tall double doors are closes, two men in suits on each side to open it when the time comes.

"Mr. Moore's speech is starting any moment now. When you hear your cue, the doors will open, and you walk down the middle and up to the stage. Good luck," says the coordinator.

"Thank you, truly," I take a deep breath.

I am starting to feel the nerves.
The microphone squeaks, before my grandfather's voice, fills the room, and projects to the hallway.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breath in. Breath out.
I imagine the reactions I will get.
My appearance is something to be concerned about. My race. My gender. My unknown identity.
Everything is simplified to this very moment.
This one time to start completely over.
This is the last time I will look back at who I used to be.
Once I enter, I will be a completely different being.
I won't be the tormented little girl anymore. I won't be the girl with the abusive father and ill mother. I won't be the girl who mourns, or cries, or breaks.

I will be a tempest. a violent storm.
I will avenge myself by being unstoppable.

I hear my grandfather's cue.

The men in front of me nod.
I give them a thumbs up.
They pull the handle of the doors.
The light from the room pours onto me.

All heads turn.
I hear gasps.

Heel-toe. heel-toe.
Shoulders back.
back straight.
Chin up.
My heels tap against the polished floor.

I stride across the room with ease, not daring to turn to the sidelines.
Just keep going straight.
There is no going back.

********