Your Loyal Servant

(12) You Okay?

An eyebrow rose on my face in confusion. "What are you talking about?" I queried, putting a hand on my hip.

"The rumors," he stated plainly. "I cleared them up. There aren't any more misunderstandings about our situation."

Hold on; was he implying he confessed to being my servant because several generations ago, his family left a debt unpaid to my family? If he did that, I doubted they believed him. I still had trouble believing it, and I'd read records of it actually happening. I mean, it sounded like the source of conflict for a really bad TV comedy. Had he explained the situation honestly to them, he'd be ostracized. But if that were the case, no one would be acting so chummy with him as I'd seen a minute ago. So what exactly did he tell them?

My eyes narrowed and I inquired, "And how did you manage that, hmm?"

He gave me this crooked grin, and I started to understand why the girls were clinging to him like paper to glue. He explained, "I told them I no longer had a home, and your family graciously took me in."

"So," I began, my eyebrow arching, "you lied?"

He held a finger up, saying, "Technically, I didn't."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, did your parents kick you out of the house or something?"

Chuckling shortly, he shook his head. "No, they didn't. But they also don't expect me to return. They want me to stay here to fulfill my duty as your loyal servant. With that in mind, they would no longer be my home. And your parents, in fact, welcomed me into your home. So no, I did not lie. But I also didn't tell them the whole truth."

My lips drew into a taut line and I asked, voice harsh, "And that cleared the air? You told them you were homeless, and just like that, the rumors were forgotten?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"I hold some credence among them," he admitted, blushing at his lapse of modesty. "They seem to believe wholeheartedly in what I say, and they laugh at my jokes. They are quite unlike you in that regard."

I glared at him. "Gee, thanks."

He hurried through his next words. "But I am spending my time assuring them of your kindness and generosity. A few claim I only said it because you'd hurt me otherwise, but I told them your threats are empty and there is a lot more to you than what's on the surface."

I put a hand on my heart and mocked, "Gosh, I'm touched."

The Freak smiled softly, and had we not been in a public place, he would have bowed. He reassured, "And now your name is no longer tarnished. The rest of my efforts shall lie in your safety."

With a sigh, I patted his arm halfheartedly. "Well, thanks," I said, though I didn't sound as grateful as I felt. I walked around him, held my hand up in a wave, and grabbed that drink from the water fountain as I said I would.

When I turned around to head back to the classroom, Freaky had disappeared from sight. I wiped my mouth across my sleeve and started my march down the hall. But suddenly, a girl stood in front of me, a 90-Watt smile glowing on her face.

I froze, and an eyebrow arched. I asked, uncertain, "Um, can I help you with something?"

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it, which made the voices in my head scream, "Stranger danger! Stranger danger!" But she just kept holding on and smiling at me as she gushed, "I just wanted to tell you how amazing I think you are."

Well, that certainly didn't happen every day.

"You have such a big heart to let Howie into your home like that," she said, her voice filled with awe. "You are truly a saint, Rosalind."