clementine

chapter 23: Clementine is 17 years old

The brightly dressed mannequins spill over the terraces, to congratulate the winner of the race. Once again, the realisation hits me that I have come in first place. The victor. The best. I cannot wrap my mind around the concept.

Plastic smiles pat me on the back and give me shiny congratulations. I am still breathless; but I make attempts at gratitude. Suddenly, rubber arms wrap around my waist and a cool breath fans my ear.

"Richard's house to celebrate?" Trevor says, and my stomach turns. In joy, of course.

"Sounds great," I reply, before I am consumed by the crowd.

To my mother, however, this does not sound great. "Samantha," She scolds, "We have been planning to go to dinner at the Crowe's house for weeks!"

"No one told me," I lie, throwing my hands in the air. I know that she's been reminding me about tonight consistently for at least a fortnight. But...

How can I miss a party thrown in my honour?

"Mom, please." I beg, and she places her fists on her hips. Surprisingly, dad glides into the kitchen, both hands on his tie. "It's just going to be the group getting some pizza at the diner." Wow, I am not getting any better at lying. The words seem to come out more like questions.

Before mom can pick up on it, though, the man of the house interrupts. "Oh, Amanda, we have to leave ten minutes ago!"

I take the bait. "And I'm not even dressed." This is true. "Just take Connor. He can be the Hall prodigy."

At this, my mother gives me a cold look that reflects in her brown eyes. Once again, Bernard Hall swoops in to save the day with his impatience. "Be back by eleven." He says curtly, without so much as a glance in my direction.

I grin anyway, "Thank you, daddy." Mostly, I say this to get on my mother's nerves. She does not like having her say overruled in any situation. But it's not like she has much of a choice.