Daddy Dearest

Chapter Forty-Five

Unknown POV

I squeezed into a limo with Melanie Jensen and her group heading to Alex Chambers’ after-party. They were so busy joking and laughing among themselves that I didn’t think they even noticed I was there and wasn’t a part of their clique. They were passing around a green bottle of champagne and taking huge gulps from it, but I politely declined when it came my way.

I’d never touch the stuff. Overindulgence is the devil’s brew that leads to sin. I should know. My father was an alcoholic before he died of liver cancer.

One of the girls, Tiffany Chen—a nice girl, if she weren’t so loose with her favors—squinted at me as though she were trying to place me and pointed at me. “Wait a minute—why are you with us? You don’t usually hang out with—” She waved her hand and laughed. “Oh, who cares. It’s our senior year. YOLO, right?”

I exhaled in relief and laughed with her, though everything in me clenched in fear as I waited for her to bust me. If her friends kicked me out of the limo, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. It would mean a fifty-dollar-cab ride to Beverly Hills, though, and unlike Melody Plum, Alex Chambers, and their ilk, I don’t have that kind of cash to blow on frivolities.

Luckily for me, I found a nice eight-dollar prom outfit at the Goodwill, which I had altered myself, then had it dry-cleaned for fifteen dollars. I received many compliments on it, though I think people were just trying to be nice, since they had never seen me outside of my uniform. There was my one piano recital in the sixth grade when I wore a dress sewn by my grandmother, but I doubt if anyone remembers that.

I tried to make myself as small as possible in my corner next to the door, squeezed against it by Jeffrey Hollowell, a lacrosse player who goes around with Honey Hudson. He was good-looking in that All-American blond boy way, but he was loud and obnoxious and wore too much cologne. Plus I was sure the rumors about him having gonorrhea was true since he was dating Honey Hudson, the school bicycle. Heaven help her. I even saw her flirting with Father Sidney once. But the saintly man endured her harlotry with a pleasant smile and manly fortitude. I’m sure he was only too determined to send away a sinner like her.

Father Sidney… now there was another man who was hopelessly ensnared by that Jezebel, Melody Plum. She doesn’t fool me with her innocent act. Not anymore. She was pious and modest until her teenage hormones got the best of her, and she allowed the devil to sway her from her righteous path. Outside of school, she wore tight blouses that showed her bosoms and midriff and short skirts that didn’t hide very much, especially not her fat bottom.

Once I was out with my brother at the mall (I hate the mall—it is a den of iniquity) to look for a birthday gift for our mother and saw her with her friend, the fat and vulgar one with the yellow hair, Charlotte Davenport. I cannot believe that two people as beautiful, refined, classy, and intelligent as Mr. and Mrs. Davenport could produce a creature like her. I’m halfway convinced she’s adopted.

Melody was a good girl when her guide through life was Charlie Davenport. Charlie kept her in line. It was only when she started hanging around with Charlotte that she changed into someone I don’t recognize and now loathe with every fiber of my being. I hope someday my Savior will forgive me for this hate I harbor in my heart for a fellow human, but I cannot stand Melody Plum.

In my eyes, she is Delilah, Jezebel, and Salome combined and made flesh.

She could have been rehabilitated, but once that man-whore Alex Chambers got his filthy hands on her, she was done for. She’s no better than a syphilitic, twenty-dollar prostitute that cruise Hollywood Blvd (my brother told me that bad men and women who don’t follow the path of the righteous all end up on Hollywood Blvd, selling their bodies for twenty dollars or cocaine to anyone looking to buy).