Hate You Not

CHAPTER TWO

Malvina:

The loud ringing of the bell and the rustling of papers announce the completion of my final exam. I am officially done with my exams.

     The teacher collects my paper, and I grab my belongings and exit the exam hall.

       The students are leaving in a hurry as if they stay even a second longer here, they have to take the exam all over again. I sigh.

       Most of them had plans made up, vacations, family visits, or maybe a summer job.

I walk out of the college campus and start walking toward the bus stop. The manor is almost thirty minutes away.

A text pops up on my phone. I smile at the text, my brother just texted me to inform me that he will be late. I shake my head and put it back in my pocket.

          He is a smart kid, too smart for his age, and a maths freak, numbers are his best friends as he likes to call them. He can get into the top universities if he keeps up his current pace.

           That idiot thinks that I don't know about his little side quest. He is working part-time in a bookshop near his school.

    He recently took up that spot. In a neighbourhood, where everyone knows everyone, if he thinks I wouldn’t find out, he’s naive.

            His tactics to save every penny and spend as little as he can, while the boy of his age goes out every weekend to those fancy restaurants out of Norfolk, my baby brother keeps his head buried in his textbooks.

     The pocket money I give him is never spent but safely tucked in a small box which he keeps under his bed.

         From waking up early to clean the room so I can sleep a little longer, to putting the blanket on me when I am too tired to even move, he takes care of it in every way he can.

    Sometimes I think he is not a mere teenager but a responsible adult, one who understands the daily struggles of his sisters and tries his best to help.

       He is my most valuable treasure, a brother gifted to me by the heavens. We are each other's only family and we are enough.

           The bus comes to a halt and I step out. I walked through the streets of Westwoods towards the restaurant.

I stop in front of a two-story vintage looking building and glance up at the huge letters that say, 'The Runaway’.

It is the only place in the entire town of Westwood where the rich sophisticated people from the nearby towns come for classic Friday nights.

     The place had an old rustic country hall vibe. It is owned by Mr. Lewis Sutton and his wife Linda. Well, our town has withstood modernization in terms of architecture.

      Every evening, music performances are made and people get to enjoy the melodious music. I sang here every weekend, without Ms. Lily’s knowledge. She wouldn’t allow it if she knew.

      The place is beautiful and cosy, with a big hall filled with tables that surround a grand piano and a small stage, reserved for the performance.

       It's almost always busy. It is on the main street of our town, unlike the manor. Also, it is like a sophisticated place for locals to gather and have get-togethers.

        Ms. Lily's hotel too has a piano, grander than the one in The Runaway, a pretty antique one, it's in the main hall of the hotel.

  I learned while watching Ms. Lily herself playing it in the late hours of the evening.