Chapter Ten
Margaret approaches her full-length mirror, which is illuminated by fairy lights. Her jeans are tight yet the material is smooth and comfortable. They complement her waist and hip curves flawlessly. The black crop top fits loosely. It is just the right length to display a small taste of her slender physique and sun-kissed body to the world.
The word "visionary" is printed in pale green over her breasts. Margaret admires herself in the mirror, running her fingers over the letters of the printed word. A visionary is someone who saw beyond what was in front of them and saw a brighter future. At this moment, with the fairy lights casting a warm glow around her, she felt like she could be that person. She dragged her fingertips along the long brown soft French braid hanging over her shoulder it is damp and cool to the touch. The fragrance of the fresh lavender and sweet orange blossom conditioner hit her nose. Her reflection is smooth, like water in the mirror. Margaret makes eye contact with herself seeing a face that is mascara-smudge-free. Her new look includes a layer of matte green eyeshadow and dramatic, winged eyeliner. Her cheeks are barely touched with a peach blush. Her lips are smooth vibrant, pure crimson flavored like raspberries.
The beats of "Last Name" by Carrie Underwood play in the background. Margaret feels her body filling with energy as she begins to sway backward and forwards, feeling the powerful rhythm. She concentrates on making sure each movement is graceful yet strong at the same time, like a magical being existing between two realms at once; real and supernatural; believable but unimaginable all at once. She moves instinctually around her new bedroom singing the words loudly.
Suddenly, her phone's chirp of a notification interrupts her trance. Margaret swipes her phone off the desk and opens it quickly there is a text from Charm.
"Hey, beautiful, see you at school soon? Meet me in the cafeteria?”
She quickly types back, "Yes, sure! See you in a bit!" and tosses her phone into her backpack.
Margaret takes one last glance at herself in the mirror, feeling confident and ready to take on the world.
As she exits her room, she feels a sense of anticipation building inside her and can't wait to see Charm again, hoping, it will help her forget about the bombshell revelation her family had just dropped on her.
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She steps into the living room, Margaret's mother and aunt are sitting on the couch chatting waiting for her. Her mother looks concerned and apologetic, the way she does when something is wrong.
The two women looked at each other helplessly before Margaret's mom slowly reached out and touched Margaret's arm, “Honey…we just want to talk about it…”
Margaret jerked her arm away and walked towards the kitchen in silence, her arms crossed across her chest. Neither of them could get a word out of her as she simply stared ahead of her with a cold expression on her face. This morning, she refused to speak to anyone except those under the age of five. Elija is now sitting on the beanbag, watching the tiny 24-inch television in front of him.
The kitchen still smells like the morning meal, with scrumptious eggs and bacon. Margaret pulls her notebook from the table where she had jotted down some ideas for the art project this morning. Glancing up at the clock it reads 7:05. She got up an hour earlier then normal simply to have some alone time where no one would pester her. Because the only time she is able to get that is at 5 am. Margaret slides the notebook into her bag and turns around.
Her aunt and mother are both peering at her with troubled eyes. Constantine begins to speak, but Margaret stops her.
“Mama, I have no desire to talk about it. I'm leaving for school now." Her voice is monotone and unwelcoming as she leans to kiss her mother on the cheek before leaving the house. Margaret takes her car key from the pile on the counter and marches out, slamming the door firmly behind her. Elija wails inside, but Margaret hears him through the door and lets out a hurt sigh.
Margaret hasn't ever felt so disconnected from any of her family as much as now in her past seventeen years.
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When she arrives at school Charm is already there waiting for her, but something seems off . As they walk towards each other their eyes meet and suddenly it clicks; this wasn't a coincidence after all! They had planned this whole thing together just so they could get closer to one another undetected by Margaret's family
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She slides into the driver's seat of the sage green Bugatti. After starting the car Margaret explodes music through her speakers blasting loud enough to vibrate the car as she drives out of the driveway.
It's the first time she's had to drive herself to Applevally. Aunt Skyler had an early meeting and had left before she had even woken up.
Her veins are overflowing with worry and confidence. But there is a river of rage circulating there too. Margaret tried to focus on everything other than her father, but the memory of him and the lies he kept would not stop resurfacing.
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All she had to do was request for her ideal dream car. Then the next day, it was in the driveway. "It Probably wasn't even his money" Margaret thought. She strained everything she could not to go off the side of the road and wreck the perfectly suitable car. She was just as eager to crash it as she was to drive it safely.
Margaret contemplates how she feels as she drives to school: angry, betrayed, and lonely. She is at a loss for what to do or where to turn; everything has been tipped upside down in such a short period of time.
Halsey's "Walls Could Talk" reverberates through the car speakers as she pulls into Apple Valley's back parking lot. Mar pretends not to notice the mannerisms and gazes aimed at her car. The students stare and gawk as she opens the door and strides to the back door, her black heels clicking quietly on the ground. She is aware of the voices surrounding her.
"Isn't she just the new girl?" "Omg, she's so loaded."Gotta have some cold cash" "How does she get here, she looks like she belongs in Beverly Hills" "Daddy money much?"
That comment almost broke her. Margaret looks around in disbelief. She new she would not cry. She knows she is too strong for that. But the hurt and anger boil inside of her like lava. Halsey's lyrics reflect Margaret's thoughts of her father:
"Walls could talk
And they would tell me all about you
How you walked in and took over
And I was nothing without you"
She shoves open the door, stepping inside the cool, musty-smelling school building. She walks briskly down the long, narrow hallway, sidestepping two meek-looking girls who trip on their way to the first period.
Someone grabs her arm hand like a snake's quick strike, clamping down as she walks the hall "Hey, wait up!" Charm pulls her to stop. "I've been looking for you"Charm's face is serious and her eyes are full of question.
"Hey are you okay you seem out of it" she begs.
Margaret can't speak; all she can do is shake her head no. She doesn't want to believe it herself but she knows it has to be true.
"It's okay," Charm offers "I'll take you to class.”
Margaret doesn't answer, just nods. She barely knows anything about Carmen, other than she seems nice. Everything feels so surreal. She follows Charm silently. Her head spun lost in her thoughts. It feels like everything she once knew has been erased.
Margaret walked into the classroom, there were about 7 students in the room. Her table is completely empty. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Veronica. “Hey, can I call you when I get home?” Veronica replied with a simple “Yeah Of Course.” Margaret sits down the seat is cold like the breath of winter.
She glances around the room, taking in all the unfamiliar faces. She takes a deep breath and forces a smile. Feeling the smallest bit better she starts to pull her book out of her bag and tucks her phone away.
She tries reading but can't focus on the words in front of her. Not being able to fade the thoughts of her family. Despite the situation, her father constantly appeared to know what to do. He never wavered and was always sure of himself. It made her happy and proud. Margaret shuts her eyes, attempting to concentrate on something other than the heaviness in her chest. Despite every awful act her father did, she was destined to love him. She might not always be pleased with him, but she will never stop loving him. Although he wasn't the perfect husband or man, he was always there for his daughter, taking excellent care of her, and raising her properly. He wasn't an honest individual, but he was a good dad. She was certain that adapting to her new circumstance would gradually become easier.
Samson approaches and takes his seat next to her. Feeling uneasy, Margret adjusts. Samson does not say anything while sitting and peering out the window. Margaret as she gives him a brief look.
His icy terrain aqua eyes quickly lock onto Margaret's melty chocolate brown ones as he swiftly rotates his head toward her, and an involuntary smile curls his lips. "Hey."
Margaret falters for a moment before nodding in return.
It takes a moment for his words to sink in. "Hi," she responds cautiously not really knowing what else to say. She swallows and nods slightly before glancing down at her hands clenched together in her lap. Then turns back to her book.
Samson seems like such an odd person but there's something comforting about him too. She can't quite put her finger on it. A comfortable silence falls between them and for a few moments.
Finally, Samson clears his throat and asks. "So, do you like it here?"
Margaret glances up from her book and meets his eyes. "I...I don't know yet."
Samson's eyes seem to get bluer; they are entirely unreadable. Margret looks at him momentarily as her face softens. They are a hue she has never seen before. Despite their intensity, they have an easing effect.
He gives her a hesitated nod and pauses to watch her for a moment before continuing. "I get it. I've never moved, though," he chuckles. "So no I suppose I don't really."
Margaret smiles “Guess so.”
He smells of fresh pine trees and the sweet scent of honey. Margret's hand, which remains in her lap, senses his touch delicately. She almost jumps out of her skin in surprise. Her hand feels warmer as he touches her. Just barely contacting her skin, his delicate touch overwhelms every sense in an effortless way. She is unsure of what to do.
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Samson pulled back his hand and turned to face the front of the classroom as the teacher has just entered.
She watches him. Margret is unsure how she feels. But warmth is spreading through her body. It takes some time for it to sink in, but his touch felt unique in a strangely pleasant way. Her complexion starts to take on pink tones.
She ignores her feelings in her belief that they will go completely. Her family-related thoughts had vanished and had been substituted with those of the blue-eyed person.
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