The Truth About Beauty

Chapter Four

I'm so sorry it took this long to update! Life kind of took over, but I hope that this will keep you wanting to read :) More will be coming soon, I promise!

GeekReader xx

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I was still standing where Victoria had left me, fury and confusion melting my face into a twisted expression. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a mirror reflecting the rage; my blue eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets and my mouth was being chapped by the white teeth that was biting down on them. I knew I was hated, but Victoria had only just met me for god’s sake. This was ridiculous. This whole place was ridiculous.

Screw Barry, I was leaving here as soon as physically possible.

“Tough luck,” a voice said from behind.

Flinching a little in surprise, I turned around. “Excuse me?”

A man was leant against the ivory wall on my right, chewing on something; he was tall, with broad shoulders and a head of dark brown hair that matched equally dark eyes. His clothing seemed elaborate for a place like this: a striped navy and white T-Shirt with trousers I could only describe as being the colour of coffee, and smart polished brogues. He seemed to be studying me.

“With Ray and Victoria,” he continued, still resting cockily against the wall, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

I raised my eyebrows. “Why would that be tough luck?”

He smiled, teeth a shade less white than mine, stood up and held out his hand. I remained frozen on the spot, staring at the outstretched palm.

“We’ve all tried to get her to understand he’s a good-for-nothing waste of space, but so far you’re the first one that’s ended up getting into a fight with the poor sod,” the man said, unfazed by my lack of manners and persistently holding out his hand. I looked up at him in challenge.

“No?” he asked, finally getting the hint. Maybe he’s blind too, I thought. “Fair enough,” he carried on, dropping his arm to his side, “wouldn’t trust me if I was in your position, either.”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” I replied crisply.

He cocked an eyebrow, “What is it then?”

“I like being alone.”

The man burst out laughing. “You like being alone? I’ve seen you in the newspapers and you certainly do not like being alone.”

I could have said something deep in meaningful in response, the kind of stuff Barry would have come out with that made me want to puke, but I wasn’t that kind of guy. “Think what you like.”

“What are you two conspiring about?” Heather asked, padding towards us with fat legs.

The man smiled, “You, of course.”

She fixed an unimpressed scowl at him. “I don’t buy that crap, Mr Lockwood. Would you mind settling Austin in to his first group-meeting, and help him get to know his schedule?”

“I have a schedule?”

Heather turned to me with an equally dubious expression. “Yes, everyone had a schedule.”

I sighed, muttering to myself.

“What was that Mr Evans?” she enquired, turning her huge frame and full attention towards me.

I smiled condescendingly at her. “I said, not me.”

Her face turned dead-pan, eyes piercing mine with a look of fire. “Now you see here, everyone has a schedule. You follow that schedule, or you will just be here even longer, do you understand?”