Interference: Book One Read online

  “Looks like your grades are stellar. Tell me, what kept you in the average grade range at school? You’re apparently far brighter than you let on, Ms. Monroe.”

  I didn’t speak, mainly because the answer embarrassed me. Sometimes blending in with the average kids smoothed the rough path of public school. If I could avoid standing out in the crowd, I didn’t care what my grades were. Fitz stared at me across his desk, chewing on the side of his lip. He eventually gave up on receiving an answer.

  “Here’s what I want you to do. Focus on finishing your assignments. Let’s get that done and out of the way. Then, I’ll help you apply to the colleges you’re interested in. I may even have some contacts to help things go smoothly.”

  I sat up in my seat, surprised. “Really? You’re going to help me get into college?”

  “No, you have to do that. I’m going to help speed things along, but . . .”

  Oh, no. Fitz wanted something. I should have known.

  “But what?” I asked.

  “For the next few months, you will interact with other residents. When I say interact, I mean I would like for them to keep their fingers.” He glared, making sure I understood, then continued. “You will eat with everyone else, take part in group activities, and pretend to like people. Do we have a deal?”

  There wasn’t much to consider. Getting out of the house and into college was all I’d ever wanted. “Alright, Fitz. I’ll play.”

  He clasped his hands in front of him, pleased. “Great. We found you a roommate.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “A roommate. She will be arriving tomorrow. Might be good for both of you ladies to get to know each other. You know, have someone to talk to.”

  “About what? Fitz, I’m not the kind of girl who needs to confide in others about my current brand of tampons or the cute boy down the hall. That isn’t me. I actually enjoy being alone. I’m splendid company.”

  He smiled at my snide comment. This man didn’t rile at all. “I’m sure you are, but this isn’t only for your benefit. It’s for Nora’s as well. You wouldn’t want to do anything to impair another, would you?”

  He played dirty.

  My lips tightened at his words. I looked up at the ceiling, refraining from saying what I really wanted. I took a deep breath then looked at Fitz. “No, Sir. If that is what’s best for her, then count me in.”

  “Wonderful. See you at dinner.”

  I made my way down the hall, somewhat pouty, passing an open door to the activities center. There were maybe eight to ten teenagers reading, playing video games, and listening to music. Everyone walked around without escorts—talking on their phones. What kind of facility were they running? It seemed more like a college dorm, but unfortunately, the professors lived there too. There would be no wild parties, but there were rumors of crazy card games on Friday nights.

  I could hardly wait.

  My gaze ran across each one, wondering who they were—where they came from—until a tall, muscular guy with black hair and olive skin caught my attention.

  At first I thought he was older, more mature, by his size and strong facial features, but his age was evident in his youthful gaze. A stare that betrayed him as he took me in from head to toe. We made eye contact for a few seconds before I remembered the dark depths of that gaze. The courtyard. He gave up his private spot for me.

  To keep from looking dewy-eyed, I pasted an unnecessarily stern look on my face and stomped away, uncomfortable. Something about him was too . . . intense. I’d been attracted to guys before, but he unnerved me.

  I hurried down the hall, eager to return to my solitude. Turning the black iron doorknob to my room, I gave the wooden door a push and stepped into my room. I shut it quickly and leaned back against the frame, taking in the solitary chamber I’d call home for the next three months.

  In May, I would turn eighteen. Two months, three weeks and five days to go. Tension eased from my shoulders, and I breathed deeper at the thought of being on my own. I turned to the right side of the room—bare except a twin bed and dresser. The one Nora would soon occupy.

  I had agreed to everything else. He could’ve at least given me privacy. I didn’t need a roommate, and I couldn’t see how I could be any help to her.

  Hasn’t he met me?

  I crashed down on the bed, then rolled my eyes at my foolishness. “Get over it,” I whispered.

  I closed my eyes as the mattress softly molded around my body. I nestled into my favorite quilt from home. The black and white geometric design, hand sewn by my grandmother who I’d never met, had been my father’s. Something about the blanket comforted me. I’d never slept without it in seventeen years.

  The wooden bedside table housed a black lamp and the only picture I possessed of my dad. The quilt and the picture were all I’d asked for after seventeen years in that house. What clothes I owned, I had bought myself after babysitting for our neighbor last summer.

  We never went shopping for new clothes—Mom handed down her old ones to me. Eventually, I tired of the snickers and comments. She and I were not the same size.

  Even at my age, I stood taller and curvier. She didn’t care if they made fun of me, but I did. I cared more than I should have. So, I worked hard to save up for my first shopping trip. I went alone after she refused to go and I even had enough money to have my long hair cut and styled. The stylist took additional time to show me how to tame the wavy tresses. That had to be one of the happiest memories of my life. I felt pretty that day, normal even.

  Walking into school the following Monday with my new jeans and peplum top, there were no embarrassing comments. No finger-pointing or dirty looks. I realized what everyone else must have felt like, and the comfort of blending in overwhelmed me. I have never forgotten running into the bathroom stall, in tears from the relief of not being the center of negative attention.

  I opened my eyes from the memory and bare white walls reminded me I had nothing. I imagined the other residents had covered their walls with family pictures or concert posters. I felt so empty, like I had missed out on life. The need to get out on my own and build a future for myself outweighed everything else. I also knew nothing in life went as planned, and a tiny voice in the back of my mind warned me not to get my hopes up. Why? I didn’t know.

  A high-pitched bell chimed in the hallway, signaling dinner. Since I arrived, they’d been kind enough to bring a tray to my room. After my conversation with Fitz, I didn’t see that happening again. He’d be in the dining hall and would expect me to show. I promised I would try. I didn’t belong at Fremont, and the only way for me to get out of there was to prove it.

  If I planned on going all-in, I’d at least look decent. The ‘homeless and hadn’t washed my hair this week’ look wasn’t my best. I jumped in the shower, hoping to look less depressed. Considering the time, I braided my hair over one shoulder. After throwing on my favorite jeans and Beatles tee, I chewed the side of my lip, contemplating the pale face staring back at me in the mirror.

  I’ve never liked makeup. Mascara made my hazel eyes pop, and my already full lips looked even better with gloss. That’s all I ever used. I enjoyed being a minimalist. I tried the total makeover once and counted down the hours before I could wash the thick layers from my face.

  I applied my usual basics, hoping the added color would liven up my appearance. I walked out of my en-suite bathroom, giving myself a mental pep-talk.

  You’re an attractive girl, Mercy. Be beautiful on the inside too. Blend in.

  Keep your mouth shut.

  4

  ⥈

  Sweat coated my palms and regret haunted me for not spraying one more round of deodorant. Ridiculous—it felt like the first day of school all over again. I entered the main dining hall, where eight round tables were scattered throughout the center. Exposed brick along the outside wall bordered large windows overlooking the city.

  The same hardwood floors from the hallway continued into the dining room, adding w
armth. I assumed the swinging doors on the right led to the kitchen and dirty dishes would go to the stations in the corner. Of course, I was last to arrive. The ruckus of conversation simmered as residents took notice of me standing awkwardly in the doorway.

  “Mercy, I’m so happy to see you.” Elise stood, weaving around the crowded tables.

  My smile tightened. “Well, Fitz didn’t give me much of a choice.”

  She grinned, but didn’t comment. I wouldn’t put it past her to have a part in all of this. “Have a seat, and I’ll let them know you’re having dinner with us, alright?”

  “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

  I searched the room for an empty chair, as curious eyes met mine. It was the exact situation I wanted to avoid. One table in particular, sat empty except for a single teenage boy—wild red curly hair, his barely-there chin peeking out from under his plump cheeks, and a button-up shirt fastened under his neck—tight enough to cut off his flow of oxygen.

  He looked safe. Plus, sitting with him seemed like the polite thing to do. I stepped in his direction, and a voice stopped me in my tracks.

  “You don’t want to do that—trust me.”

  My head spun toward the table on my right, and a young guy with a dark complexion and buzzed head smirked. Even from a sitting position, his lean body appeared somewhat muscular under the fitted shirt. His dark almond eyes gleamed with mischief as his sexy smirk—a beacon of warning—could woo any teenage girl in the vicinity.

  “Excuse me?” I looked around to see if he’d been speaking to someone else.

  “That’s Cyrus, and if he doesn’t know you, then he could be allergic to you. Just the thought of you sitting beside him will give him hives and breathing issues. It can get ugly until he’s desensitized himself and knows you’re safe.”

  He studied me intently, taking a bite from his crisp red apple.

  I stared at the strange man like he had lost his mind. Then, I remembered we were in an institution and decided to go with it. At least he was civil.

  “Well, no need for that, I guess. Especially since I don’t carry an epi-pen for our dear Cyrus. Is there a chance you’re allergic to strangers?” I asked.

  “If I’m ever allergic to beautiful women, just put me out of my misery.” The sexy smile on this one shouted trouble. “Would you like to sit down?” He pulled the chair out beside him.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. So far so good. “Thank you. I’m Mercy.”

  “I’m Ren. Is this your first day?”

  “I arrived a few days ago.”

  Saying it out loud embarrassed me. Ren frowned, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. I could understand his confusion. It would be hard to miss someone new in a place this size. A flush of heat ran up my neck. “I’m an introvert.”

  “Ah, okay. Well, I hope you won’t keep yourself hidden from me.”

  He was definitely flirting with me. I wiped my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans. When was the last time someone came onto me? I had only dated one boy in school, and it didn’t last long. He grew tired of the hateful looks and comments I’d grown accustomed to over the years.

  Needless to say, I was out of my element.

  “Ren, leave the girl alone. You don’t have to pounce in the first few seconds. Look around, not a lot of competition,” a voice across the table rang out.

  A gorgeous girl with dark ebony skin and remarkable fashion sense smirked at Ren. She wore a green floral dress under a fitted brown leather jacket. Short curly ringlets and long lashes highlighted her high cheekbones and straight nose.

  “Hi, Mercy. I’m Neela.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Neela.” Classy and chic, I couldn't help but envy her confidence. “I love your style,” I told her.

  Her eyes widened. “And you’re my new best friend. What room do they have you in?”

  “Seven.”

  Neela’s eyes lit up. “A single. Sweet.”

  My shoulders slumped. “It is until tomorrow. I’m apparently getting a roommate.”

  “I’m not surprised. There are more girls than guys here. Most of them have singles. We aren’t so lucky.” She slumped. “Your roommate can’t be any worse than mine. Trust me.”

  A thin, older woman walked up with a plate of food and sat it down in front of me without a word. I turned to thank her, but she had vanished. The swinging door to the kitchen settling into place. How did she get away that quickly?

  Staring down at my plate, I couldn’t help but be impressed. Roasted chicken with green beans and rice with a slice of lemon meringue pie for dessert. My mom couldn’t boil an egg—or chop potatoes.

  Thoughts of delicious food dissipated as shouting pulled our attention toward the corner of the dining hall. A thin, blonde-headed boy threw down a stack of cards, red-faced and angry, toward a shorter guy with curly black hair. Overhead lights flickered as two boys stood from their table, shoving each other.

  Other residents jumped up to stop the fight as a loud crack of thunder shook the building. I could have sworn the sun shone against a backdrop of blue clouds moments before.

  “What’s going on here?” Dr. Lee shouted.

  Everyone froze. The storm drifted away in mere seconds and the overhead lights stabilized. I watched as Dr. Lee escorted the boys from the room and everyone sat down as if it was just another day. It ended as quickly as it began.

  Memories surfaced . . . sitting under a large oak table eating cake while a large crack of thunder shook everything around me. I pushed the image to the back of my mind. This wasn’t like that. They were normal—not like me.

  I turned my attention back to Neela, and in the corner of my eye, Ren grazed his finger through the top of my meringue. She gave him a dirty look and stared at my dessert. Preparing to scold Ren, I looked back at my plate, but the meringue looked to be untouched. My gaze darted across the table, but Neela avoided eye contact. What just happened? Did I do that?

  Ignoring the baffling incident would be more comfortable than confronting him. Neela and Ren made small talk, but the table had gotten awkward since the boys argument, not to mention the meringue incident. I stood to take my dishes to the station, and as I spun, I bumped into someone with their head down, focusing on their phone. The phone fumbled, flying out of their hand, and slid across the wood floor.

  “What is wrong with you? Watch where you're going!” a high-pitched voice shouted.

  Ah, yes. I knew this type. Long blonde hair, big blue doe eyes, an inch of makeup with a designer purse on her arm. Who carried a handbag in an institution? Yes, I had lots of experience here. Be tactful, Mercy, I told myself. She wouldn’t run over me—I stopped tucking my tail and running after the gym incident years ago.

  I smiled sweetly. “Nice to meet you as well. I’m Mercy, by the way. You did have your eyes glued to your phone.”

  Her mouth fell open in shock, and someone behind me gasped. “How dare you waltz in here and talk to me that way. Do you have any idea who you are dealing with, Missy?”

  “Mercy. My name is Mercy. I apologize if this offends you, but I don’t care who you are.”

  I had to control my temper. Fitz wanted everyone to keep their fingers.

  Cassie opened her mouth, then closed it again as if unsure how to respond. When she realized we’d drawn an audience, she narrowed her eyes. “You little b. . .” she yelled, but was soon cut off by a deep voice from the doorway. A voice I recognized.

  “Cassie, what’s going on?”

  I looked up to see the guy from the activities lounge—the same one from the courtyard. Of course, he would be even more attractive up close. An overwhelming desire pulled at me, and I had to plant my feet so I didn’t gravitate toward him. I’d never felt anything like it.

  “Oh, Drake,” Cassie cried.

  The toddler, Cassie, collapsed in Drake’s arms dramatically. He soothed her—rubbing her back and holding her close, but appeared bored and indifferent.

  “This horrible girl, Missy, ran all
over me, and you won’t believe the things she said!” She threw her hand on her chest in shock at . . . well, I wasn’t sure.

  “Mercy. My name is Mercy.” I don’t know why I bothered to correct her.

  “Calm down. I’m sure it was an accident,” Drake assured her.

  I rolled my eyes and sighed.

  “It wasn’t! I know it wasn’t!” Cassie cried.

  I clenched my fists, struggling to hide my anger. Fear coursed through me at the thought of losing control in front of everyone.

  “Cassie, here’s your phone. Are you okay? I saw the whole thing, and I was so worried about you,” a squeaky voice called out.

  I looked over at the boy they referred to as Cyrus, and his eyes twinkled as they settled on the beautiful Cassie. He had it bad.

  “Thank you, Cyrus. I’m glad someone is here for me!” Cassie stomped off toward the hall and left us all staring at each other awkwardly.

  “That would be my roommate,” Neela whispered. “I wish I could say it gets better, but it doesn’t.”

  Silence filled the dining hall as everyone’s gaze focused on the floor or empty plates in front of them—anywhere but the new girl that caused a scene.

  Drake sighed. “Look—I’m sorry. What’s your name again?”

  My blood boiled at his tone. The air felt thick and electric, as though my anger charged the room. Dishes clanged loudly against each other in the corner, but no one stood at the station.

  Calm down.

  “Mercy. My name is Mercy. You’re David, right?”

  He smirked at my attitude. “Drake.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Derek. I’m terrible with names.”

  He ignored my jab. “I apologize about Cassie. She isn’t always emotionally stable, and she tends to rile easily.”

  An arm wrapped around my shoulders, somewhat too familiar for my liking. I didn’t know these people well enough for physical contact.

  “Tell your girlfriend to back off, Drake. If she wants to antagonize Mercy, you and I are going to have issues.”