Perfect Pet

Ch. 27: High Tide

No matter how old you got, something was unnerving about landing your butt in an office. It rarely meant anything good.

Madame Moreau's in particular was dark and gloomy, deep red fabric blocking out the windows and making it feel like we were in another dimension. To say it was crowded would be an understatement, every available space covered in artifacts a museum would salivate to look at. Statues of unknown origin, strange orbs held up on pedestals and reflective shards that appeared to show things other than their surroundings.

The latter sent a chill down my spine and I actively avoided looking directly at them.

Pearl was leaned back in the chair next to mine, arms crossed in front of her chest definitely, appearing unaffected by the situation she was in. I'd bet money she thought she could buy her way out of any trouble or use her daddy's connections to bribe the headmistress. Ludicrous since Madam Moreau was staring at us from across her desk with the same unreadable face as before. The one a scientist might use when studying a strange specimen. Trying to corrupt her would be like trying to wring blood out of a stone.

That isn't to say I wouldn't enjoy watching Pearl try.

"Why am I here?" She whined after we had been sitting around for a while with no attempts at conversation made. "I didn't do anything. She started it!"

I rolled my eyes at the whiney pitch even as I snapped back, "You took my stuff and ripped it while I was minding my own business. That isn't nothing."

"For God's sake, it was just a magazine! Go cry me a river."

"To you it was. To me, it meant a lot more." A flush of heat worked its way up my neck as I felt my temper rising. I pressed it down, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much she got to me.

The snort she unleased was highly unladylike. "Figures a magazine would be your only friend."

"Cute," I said, acutely aware that bickering like five-year-olds in front of the headmistress wasn't the brightest idea but I couldn't stop myself. Pearl could push all my buttons without trying. "You would know fake, wouldn't you?"

"My friends aren't fake. We see each other every day."

She could be dense all she wanted, acting like it was the rest of the world that was stupid, but I knew the truth. "Right, like they would stick around if you weren't rich. If you didn't have all those 'connections you keep boasting about," was my dry reply, the sarcasm loud and clear.

"You're just jealous that you'll never have that many."

"Not really. Can't call them friends when they bail once you're useless. The proper term for that is user."

"Girls," Madam Moreau interrupted, faking politeness as our ire escalated to new heights. There was a note of warning that her patience was about used up.

"Don't go getting high and mighty! You don't know anything about me!" Pearl hadn't heard the headmistress. She seemed to forget she was even there altogether.

"I know everything I need to because you can't keep your damn mouth shut. And I know for sure that you're just as bad as the girls faking to be your friend. After Sophie went missing, you didn't care. I haven't seen you talk about her or offer any help in finding her. Within days you forgot she even existed."

"Her?" Pearl's disbelief would have been funny if we weren't talking about a girl I was sure was dead by now. Instead, it came off as cold and maybe a little ruthless. "She only wished she was part of my group. Always trying to weasel her way in by sucking up to me or one of the other girls. As far as I care, she got what she deserved. She went off by herself knowing it was a stupid idea. Knowing all the people that want to hurt us. She did it anyway."