The Dating Club

Letters Lies and Legal Kidnapping

Chapter Three: Letters, Lies and Legal Kidnapping

I wake Luke up by jumping on him and smacking him around the face a few times.

"Alright, alright... Hey! Ok!" He shouts, sitting up so fast we bangs heads and I fall off of the bed sideways.

"Oh my gosh are you alright?" he cries, sliding out of the covers and holding my head in his hands. I laugh and push him away, and he knows I'm ok. "I have to go home, my Dad just called me," I say, picking up my bag and walking to his door.

"Wait!" He says, changing his top and pulling on a pair of jeans. I quickly avert my gaze as he gets changed. Awkward.

He opens the door for me and slides down the banister of his staircase, before skidding into the kitchen and throwing me a breakfast bar. "Text me later," he says and unlocks the door for me. I nod and pull on my hood, stepping outside.

As I walk home I begin to worry about what my Dad could be angry about. He could have rang Marissa's mum to check I was actually staying at her house. But he had never done that before... I suppose it might have looked a little dodgy climbing out of my window with an overnight bag at ten o'clock at night.

I approach the door and let myself in, to meet stony silence. Two pairs of eyes glare menacingly at me from the dining room table, and I bite my lip anxiously. The fact that my sister is involved is not a good sign.

"What's up guys?" I say, trying to break the ice.

My dad stands and thrusts a white envelope into my hands, before folding his arms and leaning against the side. The envelope is already open and addressed to Dad. As soon as I see my schools emblem on the letter I know it's bad.

Oh, this is worse than my Dad finding out I slept over at Luke's last night. A lot worse.

"Dear Mr Nate," Marissa reads, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she goes through the letter my Dad received in the mail. I close my eyes as she says the words I have already learnt off by heart. The words that signal the end of my social life.

"It has come to our attention that your daughter's grades have dropped dramatically in the last year and we are requesting that Jessica attend an after-school and weekend homework and tutoring club to get her school work back on track. This will take place in L20 every Tuesday, from 4:00 till 7:00, and every Saturday. The times for the Saturday classes will be discussed in the Tuesday class."

My friend pinches her nose tightly and breathes out, something I have come to learn Marissa to do anytime she is stressed.

"Thoughts?"

Marissa grimaces and scans the letter again. "Seems pretty legit."

I throw my head back and my arms up in exasperation. "But my grades are fine, great even! I've never gotten lower than a C!"

"Where's your grade sheet?"

I open my eyes and jump up, rushing to my school bag.

"Either they've made a mistake, or this is some prank, because this should prove..." I frown in confusion as I struggle to find it.

"Jessica what's wrong?"

"It's in here somewhere..." I mutter, tipping my bag upside down and pouring its contents on the floor. "Or maybe not..."

"Oh Jessica! You're not really going to go, are you?"

"I have to," I say, sighing. "My dad said that unless I go the club thing, he won't help pay for my first choice university."

Marissa is silent and I know she is trying desperately to think of a solution, if not for my own sake then for the sake of our movie night, every Tuesday evening. We've been keeping it up every week since the first year of secondary school, and it usually involves ordering a pizza each and stuffing our faces with sweets while going through a dozen rom-coms, before falling asleep.

I am not about to let that tradition go for this.

I trail around the school mardily, creating an almost audible silence wherever I go. The fact that today is Tuesday and officially the start of my torturous existence is enough of an excuse to have a bad mood, without it also being my time of the month.

"Watch it arsehole!" I hiss as someone bumps into me.

He turns around and before I can say anything else someone places a hand over my mouth, another over my eyes and I am dragged backwards by my hair.

"What the hell?"

"Hello, Jessica," says Parma Rose, hands on hips, a big evil smirk on her fake plastic face. It hurts to look at it for too long so I turn to one of her lackeys, Miss Abigail Birke. I realise she is the one responsible for grabbing my hair and pulling me into the girls toilets and I give her my best 'don't get too comfortable I'm going to punch that smug face in ASAP' look but she doesn't seem to notice, as she is too busy drooling over her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"What do you want, Parma," I say, crossing my arms. Parma mimics my action before smiling.

"I just wanted to warn you. Be at L20 today at 4pm. Or we will find you."

"And what?" I sneer, taking a step towards them, balling my fists.

Parma doesn't seem to react, apart from a small smile at the sight of my stance. "Just come along, Jess. There's a good girl."

Then she turns around and leaves, her three servants trailing obediently behind her, gushing at how brilliant she is. I roll my eyes and wait a while before leaving as well. I head to my next class, suddenly thinking about something.

I already have to go to L20 at four. And now Parma wants me to go to the same place. What's going on here?

The end of the day arrives sooner than I expect and I soon begin to feel like there will be no way of getting out of it. Marissa notices my sorry look as we are walking to the dreaded L20 and suddenly turns and slaps me full on in the face.

"Well that was unexpected-"

"Jessica Nate! Wipe the look off your face, you're supposed to be strong! A fighter! And you will walk in there, demand to be given your grades, and to sort this mess out, agreed?

As if my day couldn't get any weirder, my best friend has, in the face of danger and the possible doom of our girly film night, had a sudden boost of confidence.

"Agreed?" She repeats herself.

"I'll try my best," I vow. Then I turn and open the door.

I flounce in, expected to be greeted by an old teacher sat at a desk, with the kind of smile you give to a three year old, and a stupid three year old at that.

Instead I get the smile a wolf gives to a rabbit right before it eats it, and instead of a teacher I see Her Majesty Parma Rose, surrounded by her pets Abigail Birke, Mia Rodders and Brittany Shortcake.

"Welcome Jess," they say in unison.
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Morgan xox