Chapter 4: Chapter Four

Started With A Lie – Chapter Four

I fall off my chair. I’m not exaggerating.

“Hello?” he says. “Hello? Miss Ivory?”

I grip the fabric of my jeans as I sit on the hardwood floor. I feel sweat trickling down the nape of my neck even though it’s chilly. I still can’t believe Lee Richardson is on the other line. What do I say? I think.

“Hello? Is this the correct number?”

I find my voice finally. “Hi.” I fumble with a hole in my jeans around my knee. “Sorry for my … foul language.” I’m referring to cursing I first said when I first realized I was talking to him. I don’t know how to speak. Should I speak formally? He isn’t even that older.

He laughs a deep laugh. “It’s okay.”

I swoon. His laugh sounds like angels singing. I compose myself. “Um… I’m Ivory Flores.” I get back up and sit on my chair. “How can I help you?”

I stick with a business-like tone. He must be used to that.

“Well, this is Lee Richardson,” he repeats. “I just want to confront you on some things that I’ve been hearing.” I freeze. “Something about… you and I stated in some sort of relationship?”

I realize he has a small — almost unnoticeable — British accent. You can’t tell most of the time. You can only hear it on some words.

“A-About t-that,” I stutter. “Listen, I can explain — ”

“Can you?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for my response. “That’ll be great then. I’ve done some research and it seems you’re going on an overnight field trip tomorrow? To New York City? Am I correct, Miss Ivory?”

“Y-Yes.” Where’s he going with this?

“Lovely,” he says, a smile in his tone. “One of my current offices is in New York City. I will see you there.”

I pause… for one, two, three seconds. “B-But, I can’t visit you.” I need an excuse. “I’m on a fieldtrip. My teachers would never let me wander from my group.”

And in just that moment, Mom yells, “Ivory! Time for dinner!”

I groan, hoping he didn’t hear.

I hear Lee chuckle from the other side. Jerk. “I think it’s time for you to go, Ivory.” I squeeze my eyes in embarrassment. “And to answer you, I will speak to your school board. I think there will be an exception for this situation. And if not, I shall visit you personally.”

“But — ”

The line goes dead. I stare at my phone. He just hung up on me. Rude much? Then again, I kind of spread rumors about him, I think as I flip my phone shut and toss it on my bed. I pull my blonde hair up into a bun and head down to the kitchen where Mom is stirring a bowl of something steaming. It smells delicious enough.

“Hey, Mom,” I say. I see a chopping board with uncut vegetables and decide to help her. I start to chop some onions and potatoes.

“Oh hey, honey.” She turns to me. “Oh, thanks. Didn’t think I’d have enough time to cut those.” Mom turns back to put some onions in the steaming pot.

“What’re you making?”

“Some stew with some bread rolls,” she answers, stirring the mixture. “Are you hungry?”

“Very hungry,” I reply. “Tomorrow’s my overnight field trip to New York City. We’ll be staying for two-to-three days. Can you help me pack my things after dinner?”

“Oh! I almost forgot about that. Of course.”

Mom and I eat our stew and bread rolls in conversation about my first day and her upcoming gallery shows. She tells me about her new paintings and I tell her about cute guys who had a growth spurt over the summer.

We’re on dessert when Mom says, “You know, I heard something strange today.”

I continue to eat my apple pie. “What’d you hear?”

“Something about,” she pauses, “you and this guy named Lee Richardson? Something about you two in a relationship and he’s a world class billionaire?”

I jolt up and glance at her. She smirks like she knows just caught a criminal red-handed. “What are you talking about, Mom?” I know it won’t work. She’s already sure about what she heard.

“Now,” Mom says, “I don’t mind if you’re in a relationship.” She helps herself for another piece of pie. “But I don’t get why you didn’t tell me.” Mom takes a bite of her pie, trying to hide her frown. “I wouldn’t have been angry.”

I set my fork down. “Mom, it’s not how it looks.”

“I get it, I get it. You’re growing up and you’re at that stage where you lock your parents and family out and — ”

“Mom.”

“And you don’t feel like telling me everything because you think I won’t understand but trust me, I will. I was once — ”

“Mom,” I try again.

“I used to be a teenager too. Maybe centuries ago, but still a teenager — ”

“Mom!” I exclaim. She finally looks up at me. “Listen. You know the lie I was talking about earlier?” She nods. “This is what I meant. You know Karen?” She nods again. “Yeah well, she’s together with Peter now.”

“Peter?” Mom gasps. “I thought you liked Peter.”

“Yeah, I know. Well, they’re together and she obviously still hates me and I kind of, maybe, could’ve, just maybe, slipped out by accident, pure accident that I was going out with Lee Richardson.”

Her fork drops to her plate. “What! You told her that?”

I nod. “I didn’t mean to lie or do anything so big that it would cause me to be the trending topic on gossip websites. I just panicked and blurted it out because I was pissed at Karen.”

“Oh, honey.” She massages her temples, a sign that she’s thinking deeply. “What about Mr. Richardson? Does he know?”

“Oh, he knows.” I finish my pie. “Hecalled me some minutes ago.”

“He did what?”

“He wants to meet me in New York City. Talk things out, you know? I have to idea what to say to him, but I don’t care. It’s kinda my fault I kind of humiliated him by saying he’s dating me,” I explain.

“Honey, any man would be honored to date you.” She smiles genuinely at me. Mom stands up and gives me a hug. “Just explain things to him, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

She picks up my plate with hers and brings it to the sink.

“I hope,” I whisper.

Today is the fieldtrip. The day I meet Lee Richardson, my so-called boyfriend. I look at myself in the long-view mirror in my bedroom. I am, surprisingly, wearing a skirt.

I don’t know what brought me to do this.

Maybe the facts that this guy could either humiliate me completely or help me until Karen believes I’m over Peter. I have come up with a plan. I’ll convince Lee to cooperate. I don’t know how. But I will. I need him for this to work.

I pull down the black skirt until it stops inches above my knee. I’m wearing black stockings to cover up my legs and protect it from the freezing weather lately. I wear a green shirt with sleeves that stop near my elbows. My hair is pulled into a mature looking bun.

I want to look older, not just some high-school student dating Lee Richardson. I don’t want him to mock me. This is also my chance to prove to my classmates that I really am dating him.

Applying some light mascara and a fresh coat of lip-gloss, I finish up and grab my suitcase and bag before heading downstairs. Mom is in her studio. I step inside her studio to say goodbye.

“Mom, I’m leaving.”

She turns to me, paint already on her hands even though it’s early in the morning. Mom beckons me to come over she’s standing. “Do you want me to drive you to school or something?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I just wanted to say goodbye.” She opens her arms for a hug and I give in. “I’ll miss you, Mom.”

“You too, sweetie.” She pulls back and smiles at me. “Make sure you stick with your group and don’t get lost. And make sure you call me before you go to sleep or text me. Oh! And be careful around strangers — New York City isn’t like Brownwood — tons of creeps.”

“I will, I will,” I assure her. “And you shouldn’t skip too many meals. Make sure you clean the house too — it’s getting a little messy. Don’t get too lost in your artwork.”

Mom laughs. “Of course, sweetie. I’m a mother — I was meant for this.” She looks at my appearance. “Why, don’t you look beautiful today. What’s the occasion? It couldn’t be because it’s just a field trip, right?”

“I’m meeting Lee Richardson today,” I say. “I wanted to look appropriate.”

“I see,” she says, moving around her studio, gathering some paintbrushes. “Are you going to clear things up with him?”

Am I? I still need him for my lie, I think. “Yeah,” I lie. It feels terrible lying to Mom. “I’m going to clear everything out, Mom.”  I stare down at the handle of my suitcase, looking away from Mom’s eyes.

“Good job, honey.” Mom comes over to give me hug, which I return. “I’ll miss you, Ivory. Call me when you get to your hotel room, okay?”

I nod. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too,” she replies. I say a final goodbye before I drag my suitcase and bags outside to my Honda. Placing all my things in the trunk, I climb in the driver’s seat and head to school.

The bus leaves at 8:30.

It’s only eight o’clock. I get to school and drag my suitcase to homeroom. Candy is already there — chirpy and happy as usual. She has way more suitcases than me. There are three large suitcases around her and two pink duffle bags on her desk.

“You do know we’re going for two-to-three days, right?” I ask her as I set my bags down next to her. “Why are you packed up for a year’s worth of clothes?”

“What’re you talking about?” Candy innocently says. “I need all of these. I have my hair things in one bag, my clothes in the two suitcases, and shoes in the two duffle bags.”

I roll my eyes. “Only you.”

She grins. “I’m so excited! I can’t wait to see Times Square — and oh! I can’t wait to see the Statue of Liberty!” Candy starts jumping and squealing.

“Settle down, class!” Mr. Hopkins yells from the front of the class as he sets his briefcase down on his desk. He has one duffle bag for the trip. I guess men pack light. “The buses are already here. It’s a two hour long ride so make sure you have everything you need. Bathrooms will not be available for the next three hours.”

People start opening their bags and recounting all their necessities. Some girls leave to go to the bathroom to check their makeup. I stay in my seat and pull out a book to read.

Candy nudges me arm and whispers, “Karen and Peter are here.”

I ignore her and keep reading my book. How decent is it that I have the two people I hate the most in my homeroom. I roll my eyes as I continue reading, but two manicured hands slam against my desk.

I sigh. Why can’t Karen just say something instead of slamming against my desk every single time? “Yes?” I ask without looking up.

“So, Ivory, I heard Lee Richardson — I mean — your “boyfriend” is in Times Square right now,” Karen says loudly on purpose so everyone can hear — which works because everyone turns our way. I feel the eyes burning against me.

Stay calm. Stay cool, I say to myself.

“That’s true,” I say as calm as I can. “What about it?”

“Well, since we’re all your friends here,” she says as I scoff, “shouldn’t you introduce us to him?”

Ha, friends? Yeah, right. “Sure, why not?” I say. Karen’s eye twitches at my response. I guess she expected me to stutter and come up with an excuse. Not today. Especially not when Lee Richardson himself called me.

“G-Great!” Karen exclaims and then stalks off to Peter’s side. He sends me a wry smile which I ignore completely before flipping him the finger. He looks a bit taken back before averting his eyes.

I’m done with Peter. I need to get it in my head that he chose Karen over me.

“Alright, kids!” Mr. Hopkins yells. “Time to load the buses! Get all your things!”

The bus ride is loud and annoying. I sit next to Candy, but she texts Kevin — a guy she’s currently interested in — the entire way to New York City. It’s fine because I read my book and listen to some music to block out the raucous chatter from my so-called classmates.

New York City is beautiful.

It’s bright and lively. People scatter the streets in busy hassles and every building has light spewing out of it. Mr. Hopkins signs us in into a hotel but there seems to be a problem because he keeps arguing with the man at the desk.

Our class doesn’t help either — they’re still yapping loudly. I’m sure the desk man would love to kick us out.

I inch closer to the front of the crowd so I can hear what Mr. Hopkins is arguing about. All I hear is, “Our classroom reserved thirty single rooms!”

“Y-Yes, yes we know, sir,” the man replies. His name tag reads Larry. What an appropriate name for a man like him. He has too big glasses for his small face and he has a skinny body. “But there are only twenty-five single rooms and two double rooms available.”

“Let me see your manager this instant!” Mr. Hopkin roars. I’ve never seen him so angry — it’s pretty scary looking. I feel bad for Larry.

Larry phones someone and mutters something we can’t hear. “He is on his way, sir.”

“Mr. Hopkins,” a girl from my class says, “I can share with Kelly. It’s no problem. We don’t mind using one of the double rooms.”

“Yeah!” another girl named Lia says. “I’ll use the double room with Molly. We have no problem sharing.”

“Thank you, girls,” Mr. Hopkins says. “But one student will have to still share with one of you. There’s enough rooms for twenty-nine students — but where will one extra student sleep?”

It’s silent now. Nobody wants to have an extra in their room.

“I’ll go,” I say. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor of one of the rooms.” Everyone turns to me. “Really. It’s alright. I don’t need a high class bed to sleep on. I just need a blanket and a pillow or two.”

“Are you sure?” Mr. Hopkins asks.

“Yep, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” someone with a deep voice says. We all turn around. I gasp. “I would never want any of my customers to feel so uncomfortable at their stay at one of Richardson Hotels.”

It’s him. It’s him. It’s Lee Richardson. I don’t listen to him anymore. I just stare at him. I can’t hear anyone. He’s so beautiful — like a doll. I don’t realize he’s talking to me until I hear my name.

“Isn’t that right, miss Ivory Flores?” His eyes land on me, his face a cool mask. “You wouldn’t mind staying with me, right? All rooms are booked. My suite has an extra room, too.”

Everyone stares at me with expectant eyes. This is supposed to be my boyfriend. I have to act like it. Karen’s watching me with observing eyes — waiting for my next moves.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” I walk over to Lee with my bags. I loop my arm in his. “He is my boyfriend.” Everyone gasps — even Mr. Hopkins, who doesn’t dare say anything to such a billionaire like Lee. I look up at his face. He’s raising his eyebrow in amusement and I just smile at him — trying to tell him not to say anything with my eyes.

He doesn’t say anything but, “Let’s go then, girlfriend.”

Shit. I’m going to completely unguarded and alone with him. Nice job, Ivory. Smooth move, I compliment myself.

Anyways, here's Chapter Four! I love writing the scenes where Ivory rubs it in Karen's face! Oh joy... I think I'm having too much fun with this story... lol. :D

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