Page 23 of Deeper Than the Dead
Vera hated high school.
It wasn’t about the grades. Her GPA was a perfect 4.0. It wasn’t even about the annoying people who surrounded her day after day in the classes she would rather do anything than attend.
It was about her life.
For the most part it was over.
Bent had left. Months ago now. The bastard.
Hurt and anger curled in her stomach. She hadn’t meant to like him so much. Mostly he had been a distraction. Her mother had died, and then her father had married the crazy Sheree. By the time their love child was born, Vera had been desperate to escape her life. She had another whole year of high school left, and she had zero dollars. The car she drove was a total piece of crap. Her dad should have given her the Toyota, but he refused. Her mama had loved that car so much. It stayed in the shed, and no one was allowed to touch it. Not even Sheree. If he’d given it to Sheree, Vera would have freaked for sure.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Vera had nowhere to go.
She glanced around the class. Others were still working on today’s test. Another twenty minutes until lunch. Vera supposed she could read until the bell sounded. She reached for the paperback in the front pocket of her backpack, but a rap on the classroom door tugged her and the rest of the class’s attention there. If they were lucky, it would be some sort of drill that would take them from class for the next half hour. Wouldn’t that be great?
The secretary, Mrs. Parton, stepped into the classroom and walked to the teacher’s desk. The two whispered for a moment, then looked straight at Vera.
Vera started. She covertly glanced around to see if maybe there was someone else they were looking at. Another student who had finished his or her test and sat behind her. Before Vera confirmed the target of their collective stare, Mrs. Parton hurried in her direction. Uneasiness slid through her. This couldn’t be good.
When the woman stopped at Vera’s desk, Vera prayed for the floor to crack open and swallow her. Everyone in the room twisted to look. God, she hated high school.
Mrs. Parton leaned down and whispered, “Vera, you need to go home. There’s an emergency.”
Fear nudged her. Eve had stayed home sick today. Was she really sick? Vera had figured she was faking it. “What happened?” she demanded several decibels above a whisper.
The older woman frowned at Vera. “I don’t know, but your mother called—”
“My mama is dead,” Vera pointed out, annoyed that anyone would call Sheree her mother.
Mrs. Parton took a breath. “Your stepmother then, I suppose. Whatever the case, you need to go home.”
The secretary scurried away without further explanation or instruction. Vera reached for her backpack. As she stood from her desk, she glanced at the teacher, who nodded in acknowledgment of her need to leave.
Vera hurried from the classroom, sprinted down the hall to the exit. Whatever was going on at home, she couldn’t help a sense of elation at being freed from another tedious day of boredom. When the exit doors closed behind her, she drew in a deep breath. As worried as she was that Eve had gotten sicker or that her father was hurt, she was so glad to be out of that classroom.
She climbed into her car and quickly lowered the windows to allow some of the heat to escape, and then she was out of there. If she had a cell phone, she could call and find out what was going on, but her father insisted cell phones were for responsible adults with paying jobs. Not for kids who talked too much anyway instead of helping out around the farm.
Vera rolled her eyes and roared out of the parking lot. If it was an emergency, she had cause to drive fast, right?
Driving too fast made her think of Bent.
She wanted to hate him for leaving ... but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything except sadness and disappointment. She missed him. Damn it. Why the hell had he joined the army? Without telling her! She could write to him, but then he’d know how pathetic she was. Not happening.
No point dragging it out. They were over.
Hadn’t she been through enough the last eighteen months? She’d lost her mom. Her dad had married a joke. And Bent had left.
She poked her head out the car window and screamed.
Vera HATED her life!
As she passed Monroe & Floyd, the distribution center where her father worked, she slowed and scanned the lot for his truck. She spotted it and felt a fraction of relief. He was still at work. That had to be good. If he was sick or hurt, he wouldn’t be at work still. She sped up.
“Don’t let it be Eve,” she murmured. Her little sister was the most important person in her life. She could not lose her too.
Sheree could be dead, and Vera would feel nothing but relief.
Okay, so she didn’t wish death on anyone, but for sure her life would be far less miserable without that obnoxious person in it.
