The Boarding School

Chapter 10: Charlotte's Dad

Dallas and I worked on the book some more during lunch. We were both sitting on the couch and writing down or ideas about the book. The last ten minutes was when I finally got enough courage to ask him about the whole Wesley situation. I was scared that he wouldn't tell me and I'd be in the dark forever.

"So, you and Wesley," I said. I set my paper on the coffee table and turned toward him

He sighed and did the same, "Yeah, we never did see eye to eye."

"What happened?" I asked.

"In middle school me and Wesley were good friends. In February my parents died in a airplane crash. Turns out his parents had owned the airline company which shut down because it was the pilot's fault. They blamed it on my parents that they went broke. Wesley was told they did something to the plane that made it crash. He's so gullible!" he looked frustrated just talking about it. Now I could tell why he hated Wes. I would never forgive the person who thought my parents were to blame for something like that.

"I'm so sorry, Dallas," I said. I really was sorry for that. I couldn't do anything to help and I hated that feeling.

"I wish I could do something to help. No one would believe me when I told them. That's why I don't have any friends. They all thought I was a liar. So I got back at them in my own special way. Sure, I'm rude, but they should know why when they're at a family dinner sitting next to their fucking parents when I'm sitting alone at this damn school!" he yelled. It was getting emotional in here and I didn't know what to do in this situation.

"Well it's there loss if they don't believe you," I saw that in a movie and I thought it would work at this time.

"You saw that in a movie, didn't you?" he laughed. How in the world did he know? Maybe he was a mind reader too. Or he could just know how I roll.

"Maybe. . ." I mumbled.

"I could tell. You seem to watch a lot of movies and read a lot of books," he chuckled.

The bell rang and I stood up and picked up my stuff off of the coffee table, "I better get to history. I'll see you around?"

"Sure," Dallas said and quickly walked out of the student lounge and down the hall like he didn't want to be seen. He probably didn't considering everyone thought he was a liar.

I felt bad for him. I had to think about the people who I thought were innocent.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Lena! Can I talk to you for a minute? It's really important," Charlotte asked as I walked into the house.

"Yeah, of course. Let me put my bag in my room first," I start to walk up the stairs but Charlotte grabs my hand and drags me through the hallway to my room.

"Charlotte! Slow down, I-"

"What is all that noise?" I heard a voice yell.

It was the old guy that yelled at me last night.

"Sorry, sir. Charlotte and I were just walking to my room to work on my homework," I smiled innocently.

"Miss Rollen, correct?" he asked and I nodded, "Don't make it a habit of getting yourself into trouble, Miss Rollen. You too, Miss Johnson."

"Yes, sir," we said at the same time. When he went back into his office we laughed as we walked to my room.

When I opened the door my heart stopped. My sheets and blankets were on the floor, my picture frames were cracked and broken, all of my clothes were unfolded on the ground all over the place. It was a mess.

"What happened in here? It looks like a tornado came through here!" Charlotte screeched, "Did you even unpack, or did you just dump everything on the floor?"

"Everything was neat and clean when I left for breakfast this morning," I frowned.

"Well someone doesn't like you being here," she looked confused and I didn't blame her.

"Maybe it was Sara," I mumbled.

Charlotte looked at me wide-eyed, "How did you know about that?"

"Wes told me when I first came here, why?" I asked.

"No reason. It's just a rumor, you know. Sara's ghost isn't haunting you," she said.

"Well, my life is a series of surprises," I chuckle and started cleaning up, "What did you need to tell me?"

"So, you know how we're doing that project in science?" she asked.

"Yep," I picked up my sheets.

"Turns out my dad isn't really my dad," she sighed.

"Do you still get an allowance?" that's all she would be worried about. If she didn't get an allowance, she couldn't buy clothes. If she didn't buy clothes, she wouldn't be Charlotte.

"Yes, thank God! It would my mom's fault if I didn't get money from him. I should've known that I wasn't his daughter. I look nothing like him or my mom," she said.

"So, who's your dad? Maybe he won the lottery or owns a big company and is a billionaire," I said hopefully.

"Well he's not. Turns out I've already met him. You have too," she gave me a pained smile.

"I'm not good at guessing games."'

"Then I'll give you a hint. He's our English teacher," she frantically said.

"Mr. Jackson! How? He's, like, thirty!" I yelled.

"My mom was a teen mom. He was the baby daddy," she shrugged.

"Well, your dad-" I started.

"My "dad" is a lot older than my mom. She only married him for money. They don't really love each other, I guess. She married him when she sixteen because her family was broke. She met Mr. Jackson when he was a gardener for my fake dad's garden. She met him and fell head over heels. Nine months later, popped out into this world. She told Mr. Jackson that he should quit and she would leave with him, but she realized he was poor. Then he found this teaching job," she told me.

"Wow. Did you tell him yet?"

"I can't bring myself to do it!" she plopped down on my bed that I just made and sighed.

"I just made that bed," I whined.

"Well make it again later," she mumbled into my giant stuffed elephant I won at the county fair. "So how are you and Dallas?"

I dropped the shirt I was folding, "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb. I saw you two in the student lounge during lunch. You would be so cute together!" she squealed.

"We're just friends, I think?" I said with a sigh.

"Oh, honey, someday when you and him are tucking in your kids together, you'll thank me," she said.

"For what?" I asked confused.

"This." she grabbed my hand and dragged me out the door, down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the living room.

No one was in the living room except Dallas. She shoved me in there and locked the door. Now I knew what she was doing. She would pay later.