Trophy Daughter

Chapter 11- Angels Be Calling

Circe is selfish and all that, but she's got a relatively shit life so. 

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My car slowed down as I turned into the nearest park, hitting the brake and stopping it. Those furious tears were still in my eyes, blurring my vision and I put my forehead against the steering wheel, exhaling a pent up breath.

It wasn't just Barnabas that made me upset. It was a build up of everything- constantly being told I was an idiot and had never been through anything. In some senses, it was my fault. I chose not to show my capabilities, and in return, got a lot of insults. 

So really, it wasn't anyone else's fault. It was all mine. 

Maybe I should just tell people. I laughed out loud, part of it a lot more despairing than I would admit. They would all just think I was lying, cheating or trying to become popular for once. I was too deep to just suddenly up my grades now. 

A knock on my window sounded and I wiped my eyes, smile on my face as I turned to see who it was. Immediately, the smile faded and I stiffened. 

Barnabas stood outside my window, looking around before he realized I was staring at him. He knocked again, more insistently, and I shook my head. He wasn't getting into my car so he could make fun of me again- the prick probably just wanted to continue our tutoring so my daddy dearest didn't take whatever it was he had on him away. 

I wouldn't have told Carlisle anyway. 

"Come on Circe, let me in." Dumas sighed, "It's cold out here." 

"It's twenty three degrees. You're fine." I deadpanned, leaning back in my seat and looking away from him. 

"Just let me in, fucking hell." 

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, but don't damage my leather seats." I unlocked the door and he slid in immediately, wiggling around a bit as he got comfortable. 

"Nice car." 

"I know that's not what you want to talk about, so what is it?" 

Dumas ran a hand through his hair and turned in his seat a bit more so he could look directly at me- something that was quite disconcerting. I shuffled back and he started. 

"What I said back home, that- it just wasn't cool. Sorry." 

My eyes narrowed as I stared at him, and I shrugged, displaying such a mask of indifference that even Wednesday Adams would be proud. "Okay. You can go now." 

Dumas settled back in his chair, doing the exact opposite of what I said, and turned on the heating. "You should have seen my dad when you left, he was so fucking angry. What did you do to get on his good side anyway?" 

I turned the heating off, "Are we having some kind of heart to heart now? I told you to go." 

Dumas scowled and turned the heating back on, glaring at me. "Oh so when you ask questions, I have to answer them, but not the other way around?" 

"When I asked you questions, you just insulted me and nearly made me cry." 

Dumas nodded slowly, "You have a point. But I did say I was sorry."

"And I did say 'okay.' Get out of my car." 

He stopped my hand as it went to open his door, and he turned towards me again, seemingly cornering me in my own mercedes. "Fine. You answer my question from before, and I'll answer any question that you have- without sarcasm or derogatory comments." 

It seemed to good to be true, but I fell for the bait anyway. "I know your dad because he's caught me drunk a lot more times than I would like to admit."