God, I hate this thing. Looking in the mirror at the ill-fitting summer school uniform, I take a close look at the buttons nearest to my chest. If I take a deep breath, I'm sure I'll pop at least two. The lilac blue belt only emphasizes my boobs! Yeah, the light fabric was cool in the summer but there is little else to recommend the plain knee-length dress. Why couldn't I wear the usual uniform?
There's a knock at my door. "Sally. We leave in ten minutes. Don't make us late." That would be Collin. My wonderful 'caregiver'. Sending a middle finger at the closed door, I finish the last of the buttons down the front of the cream dress.
Grabbing my small duffel, I check everything on the list one last time. Toiletries. Underwear. My P.E. kit. A dress blouse and slacks for some reason. There's one thing that's freaking me out. It says I can only have a long nightshirt 'for my comfort while sleeping.' I'm not reassured by their seeming care for my well-being.
Tying off the long braid that I need for my thick brown hair, I'm about as ready as I'll ever be. Taking a deep breath, I try to psych myself up. I just have to be polite when necessary and assertive the rest of the time. It's worked for me before, at least until the last couple of days.
Why did Collin have to come home so early? And then he gets super angry, which he never did before. Never in my worst nightmares did I think this was going to happen. They couldn't cane me at school; but then find a way to send me to Mr. Cox?!
Professor Cox. We used to call him 'Old Baldy' at school. He would go up and down each row looking for any infraction, and then hold the student for detention. The boys feared him. His use of the cane, luckily over slacks, was renowned with the upper classmen. My girlfriends all were thankful they were spared the pain and ignominy of having to do that, of course. Not that he didn't assign detentions to us, or me more specifically. Then there was that one time I heard John get...
"Sally! Let's go!"
"I'm coming. Geez!" Slinging the strap of my bag over my shoulder, I go out to find Collin waiting impatiently with keys in hand. "In a rush to get rid of me?"
His hands tighten. "You better not act like that in front of Mr. Cox. I think you know what you're already going to get."
"You like that? Think some licks will change me?"
"You think I want this? I've never raised a hand to you."
"So you get 'Old Baldy' to..." Shit.
Collin opens the front door. "So that's what you do at school? Call your teachers names and talk back? Not to his face, I bet."
Why can't I keep my big mouth shut? Now Collin is looking more determined than ever. As he starts driving, I sit there knowing why I'm in this situation. It's almost like I can't control myself. If someone comes at me with attitude, I challenge it. If I see something I like, I go for it. I just have a feeling I can get what I want if I set my mind to it, and... and... School is such a beatdown. I just want to get on with my life.
I look up and see we're turning into what I guess is Mr. Cox's house. House would perhaps be an understatement. Cox lives in what I'm starting to think is a small manor. High walls with an electronically controlled gate and intercom system restrict entry to the property. The house itself, as far as I can see, hasn't had a lot of maintenance. The paint, window frames, and the front door display signs of weather beating. The garden and lawn areas, while not overgrown, are in need of serious help as well. It's obvious that 'Old Baldy' hasn't the time or the inclination to indulge in petty things such as landscaping his property.
I watch Collin push the buzzer at the gate, and it promptly opens for us. As he pulls into the circle at the front of the house, we see that Mr. Cox has come out to greet us; or rather, Collin. He doesn't look my way, even for a moment. The old man's wearing the gown of a typical schoolteacher with a suit and tie underneath, which gives me no doubt that he's trying to impress. The two men exchange greetings, and Collin is led into the home. That leaves me clutching my bags, just standing there. Getting more than a bit aggravated, I follow them inside.
Trudging up the steps, I step into a place far different from what I expected from the outside. The interior of the house is well furnished and looks expensive. Dark wooden tables and chairs covered in velvet are spread around a sitting area. In contrast to the relative untidiness of the exterior, the inside of Cox's house is as neat as can be. To my eye, the entire place resembles something that hasn't been updated for a very long time, and yet it's immaculate.
"Please come to my study, where we can discuss how we're going to proceed with Yeager here." Again, he doesn't talk to me directly. What is this? Some kinda psychology? Well, it's not going to work.
The old man's study looks very typical of a schoolteacher's office from decades ago. Books line the shelves behind his desk, and a few diplomas are framed on the wall. I notice a second door, which seems out of place here. It's very modern-looking and appears to have a very secure bolt lock and a wire-reinforced window to peer through. It must lead further into the house. There are two plush chairs available, and Collin is offered a seat. "You can stand, Yeager. Put your bags on the floor."
He deigns to speak to me. Well, I do so and then stand there trying to seem as unconcerned as I can. I watch as Cox sits down behind his desk and pulls out a few papers.
"Do you need refreshment? Coffee possibly?" Collin agrees to a cup. The nearly bald man leans over and hits a button on what looks like an intercom. "Beth?"
After a moment, I hear a female reply, "Yes, sir?"
"Could you bring some coffee to my study for me and my guest?" The reply is immediate. "Of course, sir."
Cox turns back to Collin. "My assistant that we talked about."
Collin actually appears to be impressed. I stand there confused, however. How does a private school teacher afford a house of this size as well as help? Not that I'm complaining. At least I won't be totally alone with him.
The assistant makes her entrance. And damn did she make an impression. Collin all but leaps out of his seat to say hello. The blond woman, possibly in her early twenties, has a tray loaded with a silver pot as well as a service for coffee. She's quite tall, but it's hard to determine her true height due to her heels. My best guess would be that she's at least a head taller than me. Wearing a conservative red dress suit that fits her toned figure, the woman nods to both men submissively. God, Collin. Wipe that stupid grin off your face.
Placing the tray down on the desk, the lady deftly pours two cups. "Here you are, Mr. Montgomery," she says, leaning over him. I catch Collin's eyes ranging downward. Not that the woman is well endowed, but I can only assume she's showing a nice set of cleavage bent that far over. When she turns away to serve Mr. Cox, we are afforded a view of her very long legs. They are accentuated by a set of black heels and very old-fashioned stockings with seams running up under her tight-fitting skirt. The dress rides up some, and I can only imagine the view my seated caregiver is getting.
"Miss Holeman has been briefed on our current situation. She's very efficient and keeps things orderly for me so that I may focus my attention on more serious matters." The old man still won't look at me.
Beth smiles at the compliment. "Shall that be all, sir?" I think I catch a hint of an English accent, but it's hard to tell. It might be that she's just super formal. The woman is dismissed, and I watch her go. I have to admit to myself that she's quite a pretty lady. Something about her... Then I realize that 'Beth' hadn't even looked at me the entire time she'd been in the room. The same as Mr. Cox earlier. This is starting to feel really weird. I watch as Collin sips the coffee and then nods in appreciation.
"Very nice. My compliments."
"On to business?" The old man gestures to the papers now on the desk. "This should explain what I'll require to properly educate and correct Yeager's behavior over this weekend. All that I need from you, Mr. Montgomery, is your signature on this document." Almost as an afterthought, the old man points at the bottom of the page. "Preferably sign at both places to avoid any complications."