181 Days of Madeline Jesty

Chapter 19: Madam

After changing from my school uniform to my casual clothes, I asked Troy to drop me off at Cornelia's. Since Suzie was suspicious, she also came along with us, though I pleaded with them—especially Suzie—not to interfere.

"I told you, I'm meeting my adviser," I complained when we were already outside the café, by the side of the street. I was at the backseat of the car then, still processing that Suzie couldn't believe I was meeting with a teacher. "You didn't have to come along with us."

Suzie crossed her arms and looked at Troy. "And Troy can?"

"I'm not nosy," Troy defended himself.

I loved Suzie, even though she was the first person to tell me that I was only imagining the hourglasses. But this was the first time she was curious about what was going on with my life, which started when I introduced Mickey. I couldn't blame her; never did I invite someone over except Steph. Her curiosity was reasonable.

"Why does she have to talk to you outside of school?" she asked, changing the topic, her eyes squinting to see if Ms. Lilian was already around. "Is that even allowed?"

I refused to tell Suzie that I wanted to talk to Ms. Lilian about personal matters—that was, about my relationship with Mickey—because that would permit interrogation and then branch into a series of never-ending questions. So I had to twist the truth.

"One, I was the one who insisted on this. But it was already after school, and you know we couldn't stay in the school grounds for so long. Two, we can't be wearing our uniforms, so we have to change."

Still the truth . . . but as they would say: hidden truths were still unspoken lies.

"For sure your school will understand."

"Of course that's a no," I quickly remarked. "You and Troy can go around. We'll be done in an hour. It was actually Ms. Lilian who told me to bring a guardian because she didn't want me to go home alone."

"Rightly so."

I grabbed my small bag, went down the car, and then walked toward the café. I was about to enter when a hand tightly grabbed my shoulder, causing me to face the doer. Amielle. "Hi, Am—"

"W-w-what are you doing here, Ms. Maddie? Isn't it Friday? You were not supposed to—"

"Calm down," I requested. Her voice was shaky. "I have to meet someone here."

"Who? Mickey? I thought—"

"No. You know Mickey's not available on Fridays." I looked from left to right before I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I will my teacher here. We have to discuss about private matters."

"P-p-private? A guy?"

"No, silly! It's Ms. Lilian, a woman. She's our English and literature teacher since first year, but she's now our homeroom adviser—"

"Oh . . . oh. D-don't you have somewhere else to meet? Just not here."

"What's happening, Amielle? I don't understand."

"You can't be here right now."

"Seriously, why? Have I offended someone? Should I be hiding—"

Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of the café's door chimes and a luxurious car parking in front of the al fresco dining area. When I looked, a classy woman around the same age as Mom was exiting the café and walking toward us, her hips sexily swaying. Her black long-sleeved turtleneck partnered by a leopard pencil skirt, black stilettos, and gold accessories made her look so expensive and exquisite. Even though dark violet lipsticks and nail polishes were mostly put on by punks around the area, she worn it as if it was the most sought-after color. Her whole aura was intimidating. Just like Mom.