The Thief Who Saved My Life

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 (unedited so please forgive any mistakes you see and point them out if you can :])

 

The cheerful bubbliness that exudes from so many girls is enough to drive me insane. Cliques are animatedly discussing their trips to Prague or Aspen during winter break. Some are bragging about the gifts they received while others are staring wistfully at the series of brand new Mercedes and BMWs in the student lot.

In the halls of Mason Prep, it’s easy to spot the haves from the have-nots. Though we all wear identical uniforms, some are brand new and pressed daily while others appear second hand or worn out from years of use. But the biggest difference is in the way we all carry ourselves. Those with money ooze confidence with every step while those without tend to look a little lost and out of place.

Even more obviously, it’s the poor kids who are staring so longingly at the all-new cars, because they’re the ones who are stuck taking public transportation to school. Or worse… walking. They shouldn’t envy us though. I guarantee that behind so many of these new cars and extravagant trips is a parent who missed Christmas because something came up, and a disappointed daughter. My father may make the most money, but I’m surely not the only student here with absentee parents.

The general liveliness of the first day back from break does nothing to help my mood, which hasn’t lifted since my encounter with Garret on Thursday. Most girls are used to my self-imposed solitude, but seeing my usual condescending smile replaced with a deep frown throws them off. They give me wide berth as I walk the down the halls, obviously smart enough to sense that I’m not in the mood for any socialization today.

Their curious glances attempt to break my icy exterior. They all wonder why I would arrive at school anything less than happy today. Idly, I marvel at what they might think if I were to let them all in on the details of my Christmas break. A humorless giggle escapes as I picture the shocked expressions that would take over the faces of these brats if they found out, I, Evie Dupree attempted to take my life over break.

“Good morning Evangeline,” Ms. Bree greet cheerfully, thrilled at my early arrival to class that so atypical for me. I give her a tightlipped smile at the use of my full name and take a seat in the back of the room.

“Starting the semester off on a good note, I see,” she says attempting to make conversation.

“Yep,” I agree popping the p.

“Maybe you’d like to sit up at the front of the room and participate in class?” She suggests kindly.

“No thanks,” I tell her and make no move to switch seats. I can do well enough in classes by simply reading the text. I have an outstanding memory; it’s one of very few things I inherited from my father.

Ms. Bree is a young teacher who often seems more focused on befriending the students than teaching them. She hates to step on toes and offend people, so when students like me give her trouble she lets it slide with a kind smile. I’m sure the fact that despite my lack of attention and participation, my test scores remain near perfect is also enough to keep her from fussing over me too much.

Several minutes of tense silence later other students begin to filter into the room. Each pauses to chat spiritedly with Ms. Bree filling them in on just how awesome their break was. She nods along as if she’s actually interested in the lives of her students, but no one ever asks what she did. I’m sure they think it will only embarrass her to tell of her down to earth Christmas vacation that likely consisted of hot chocolate and whichever version of A Christmas Carol was on the Hallmark Channel.

She doesn’t seem offended that no one asks though. Ms. Bree is friendly as ever, listening to stories right up until the moment the shrill sound of the bell echoes throughout the room. Honestly, I don’t know how she does it, I’ve only heard bits and pieces of each story and I want to scream.