“I have expressed my opinion on this multiple times, Timothy. Please do not make me repeat it.” Ryland stood a little straighter as he attempted to end the conversation.
“Now, now, Ryland. We don’t need any of that.” Edmund’s voice lacked any warmth. “After all, I would hate for your attitude to be the cause of a downfall.”
I cringed. Was he talking about me, or about my mother? Edmund had never before said anything so bold when I was within ear-shot; it was almost like he couldn’t see me. That, in itself, was a ridiculous thought; Ryland wasn’t enough to hide behind, even with all his muscle.
“You know my terms in regards to that, Father.” I could see Edmund’s expensive penny loafers slide against the white carpet. I shifted my weight, scared he was moving to get a better look at me.
“So it would seem. Well, at least now I won’t have to dismiss her mother, or worse. We just can’t have anything spoiling my perfect son, now, can we?” I saw his body shift as if he were moving closer. Ryland’s fingers pressed harder against my own.
“No, Father.” There was a pause and then Edmund’s shiny leather shoes stepped away from us down the hall. Timothy’s shoes followed Edmund’s hesitantly, like they were waiting for something else to happen before he turned the corner.
We moved the last few steps quickly, darting into Ryland’s spacious room before either of them had a chance to return.
Ryland’s bedroom was roughly the size of my entire apartment. The giant rectangular space was separated down the middle on the left side by a long wall that housed a kitchenette on one side and Ryland’s massive entertainment system on the other. The right side of the room contained his oversized bed that still sported the colored blankets we had used to make forts when we were little kids, while the entrance to his bathroom lay beyond the bed. Behind it all was a closet the size of a small motor home, containing far too many clothes for someone who went to a school that required uniforms.
I went to the high cabinet next to the entertainment center where he kept the chocolate before plopping down on his bed to enjoy a Mounds Bar. Ryland locked the door behind him, just in case his father or the servants decided to get nosey, and turned on some brainless TV show as he went.
“I hate them, you know. Hate,” I spat sourly, ripping the wrapper off the candy.
“That’s a strong word, Jos.”
“I know, but don’t you think they deserve it? Saying all that about how I am going to ruin you, talking about me like I was not even there. It’s like they couldn’t even see me.”
“Maybe they couldn’t,” Ryland said almost inaudibly.
“Ha, ha, ha, very funny, Ry.” I paused at the curious glance Ryland gave me. “They wouldn’t hurt anyone because of me, would they?”
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Ry grumbled as he leaned against the wall his TV was mounted to.
My head jerked up. “They would?” Not cool.
“Don’t worry so much, Jos. I wouldn’t let them, even if they tried. If I could get them to be nice to you, I would, but I can’t. Either way, I won’t let them hurt you. Besides, you don’t need to worry about it. You only have to deal with them for the rest of the year. I get him for my entire life.”
I could only roll my eyes, but then the candy bar fell untouched to my lap. I didn’t like the daily reminders that Ryland was leaving overseas for college in just a few months’ time. Oxford, a huge giant ocean away. I tried to push the information to the back of my mind. I would be lucky if I ever saw him again.
“So, did you get the role?” Ryland asked eagerly, plopping down beside me, his obvious change in subject managed as smoothly as possible.
“No, of course not. The role went to Cynthia McFadden, not that anyone was really surprised.”
“What? You read the role perfectly!”
“Well, I did here in your bedroom. In the school gymnasium, I’m not sure the drama teacher could hear my monologue over the catcalls about my lack of hygiene...” I hoped that didn’t sound too bitter.
Cynthia had brought half the football team with her and they had quite a fun time jeering at anyone who auditioned for the same role as the cheerleader. I thought I had done a good job, even with the jocks yelling at me to bathe or brush my hair, but Ms. Flowers didn’t think so.
“What role did you get then?” His silky voice calm and eager.
“None.”
“None? You would have been cast as Ophelia without question if you had auditioned at my school.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course I would have. You go to an all boys’ school!”
“I guess you’re right. But Michael Aliente has been eyeing that role for years now; you might have had your work cut out for you.”
“Well, I don’t think I could beat Michael; he’s way too good at those monologues.” We laughed, the thought of tiny Michael in a long Shakespearean gown bringing tears to my eyes.