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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Young Adult · #1578250
Jason of course requires a price if he's going to help Valerie, but what is it?
Chapter 3

“Is there a cure for a broken heart? Only time can heal your broken heart, just as time can heal his broken arms and legs.”—Miss Piggy








“Ah-ha! I knew there was something. With guys there’s always something. So what is it you want, new guy?”

    “First off, can you stop calling my ‘new guy’? Even if you don’t believe it, I do have a name and if we’re going to working together I would really appreciate it if you would use it.”

    “And your name is…Jack or something, new guy?” Okay, I couldn’t resist. Sue me.

    “It’s Jason.”

    Hmm…that’s interesting. It looked like new guy had some spine to him after all. How cute.

    “Okay, fine, Jason.” I took his hand and shook it mockingly. “I’m Valerie Steele. Nice to meet you.” I let go. “Now that we’ve gotten the introductions out of the way, do you think you could enlighten me on what it is I have to do for you? Because if you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend or something so you can ‘score’ other chicks then I’m going to need a bit of a warning.”

    Jason snorted. “Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself. You complain about guys having egos? Well, what do you call yours?”

    “Healthy,” I replied.

    “Ha, healthy as in McDonald’s Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese-healthy?”

    “No, healthy as in carrots and bananas with a side of low-fat yogart-healthy.”

    “That’s not that health—Ah, never mind you’re getting me off topic.”

    “I’m getting you off topic?”

    “Anyway, if you’ll just try the impossible for a moment and stop talking I’ll tell you what I want you to do for me—”

    “Which is?” I interjected with a smile.

    “Okay, so you know how my dad’s business isn’t doing so well?”

    “Yeah, you told me that already.”

    “Well…” He trails off looking uncertain.

    I waited, tapping my foot impatiently. When he didn’t say anything I said, “Are you going to tell me or not? Spit it out.”

    “Well, he just doesn’t have it in him to solve cases anymore. I’ve been helping him when I can when I’m not in school, but it’s too much. I need someone who knows this area since we don’t, to help out with some of the other cases. Already, he’s got a handful too many.”

    “So you want me to help your dad solve his cases?”

    “No. I want you to find someone to help my dad solve his cases.”

    “Why?”

    “Because…You must have connections here, right? How long have you lived in Jacksonville?”

    “All my life.”

    “Okay. And what does your dad do for a living?”

    “How the hell should I know? I haven’t seen the bastard in over a year.”

    Jason pauses. Then asks, “What about your mom?”

    “She’s a lawyer.”

    “Criminal defense?”

    “No, prosecutor.”

    “So then your mother has to know people in the detective business, right? Like assistants who help her win her cases? The ones that do the investigating work that provide all that evidence in court?”

    “Sure.”

    “Then can’t you ask her to get one of them to help?”

    “I don’t know…I would assume that they’re busy doing the investigative work that pays them, wouldn’t you?” I asked sarcastically. “I really don’t think any amount of begging will get my mother to let me borrow one of her assistants to play detective for a while, even if we were on speaking terms.”

    “Then how do you expect my dad’s business to pick up if no one’s there to find the clients’ missing relatives, or animals, or help them in whatever else they need help with?” Jason demands exasperated, throwing his arms in the air.

    “Find?”

    “Yes, a lot of the clients loose something or are missing someone and it’s my dad’s job to find it.”

    Hmm…Lost…

    “Don’t worry,” I suddenly said, reassuringly. “I’ll have someone for you.”

    “Really?”

    “Oh of course,” I reply smiling sweetly. “Where shall we meet?”

    “Uh…why don’t we meet in front of that weird-looking naked cherub thing with the fountain in front of the main building? So I can catch this person up to speed on what I’ll need them to do?”

    I nodded. “Tomorrow after classes then?”

    “Sure.”

    “And then when will you need them at your dad’s office?”

    “Two days from now too soon?”

    “Nope. Perfect.” I grinned. I knew exactly who would be perfect for this. And I didn’t even have to look for her…







The following day classes began for the new school term and I wasn’t in a particularly good mood when Maddie shook me away in the early morning. I was not a morning person.

    “Val, you really need to get up now. You’re going to miss breakfast.” Maddie attempted to yank the covers off of me but I clung tight to them in my still-blissfully-in-dreams-state. She groaned. “You are the most stubbornest person I’ve ever met in my life!” she yelled.  I vaguely heard angry footsteps leave and sunk back into my dreams where I was in the middle of kissing Orlando Bloom and Christian Bale while being fought over who got to dance with me and remove my sexy nun outfit and garter (wtf?) with their teeth.

    And then I was dragged viciously out when a bucket of ice water was dumped over my head.

    I shrieked and flung myself away from the cold and ended up falling off my bed and landing painfully on the hard floor.

    Ouch.

    I was soaked and shivering and extremely pissed.

    “Sorry, Val…” Maddie said apologetically, standing a few feet away. I was about to snap something mean and nasty to her in my foul mood but I saw Rebecca Story still holding the bucket from which the ice water must have come from.

    “You-you-you—” I stutter, my teeth chattering.

    “Time to get up,” Becca said cheerfully and walked out still holding the bucket.

      Well, damn. How could anyone fight with a girl Rebecca’s size? She was Amazon-tall with a solid build and well-developed biceps. She was the most intimidating girl I’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. That is, until I realized how unmerciful she could be with a bucket of freezing water and a smile.

    I staggered my way into the crowded bathroom, overflowing with hyperactive, stressed girls running around trying to put on their make-up, do their hair, and find the perfect lingerie to wear all at the same time.

    When I went back into my dorm room Maddie was completely dressed in an ugly uniform.

    “What the hell is that?” I demand, pointing at the atrocity on her.

    Maddie grimaces. “It’s our new school uniform.”

    “Since when do we have a uniform?”

    “Since more girl students have enrolled.”

    “Ah, crap.”

      Last year since only a few girl students were attending Emperor, Dean Crabs had not bothered to assign a uniform since it forced him to have to get one made and he would rather spend his precious school funds on improving the boys’ uniform and quarters than the girls. But now that their were more than ten girl students it seemed he felt he needed to inflict a uniform on us.

    “Yours is in the closet.” Maddie nodded her head toward the box called our closet.

    I strolled over to it and opened the doors. The ugly thing hung there forlornly. I pulled it out and studied it. On the hanger hung a white, pressed button-down blouse with a knee-length ruby and black checkered skirt and a matching tie and blazer with the embossed initials of the academy on it.

    “I am definitely not wearing this,” I said, fingering the fabric. “At least, not like this...”

   



I ended up skipping breakfast and missing the first twenty minutes of first period but it was well worth it when I walked into my chemistry class and Professor Dawson’s eyes about bugged out of his head. Everyone else in the class’s eyes were lasered on me as I stepped confidentally to my desk and took a seat.

    “I’m sorry I’m late, Professor,” I announced loudly, my voice echoing around the lab. The entire class was dead silent. “But I had some trouble with my uniform…”

    Professor Dawson looked speechless and I could almost hear the internal battle he was having on whether or not his should send me to the dean or just leave it be. In the end the necessity of continuing the lesson and not allowing my outrageousness to get any more attention, he turned his back to us and picked up where he left off.

    I was pretty impressed. After all it was hard to ignore the damage I’d done to my uniform. In the hour and twenty-something minutes I’d had, I’d managed to shorten the skirt by about three and a half inches, and roughen it by snipping off the hem and adding pretty black lace; I’d also ditched the blazer and removed the sleeves on the blouse while cutting out a V under the collar and knotting the tie in a sloppy, loose-way. I’d added various multi-colored accessories including a nice silver chain belt and biker gloves; I hadn’t had time to do anything to the shoes so I’d left those and put on my comfortable sneakers and pulled on mismatched high socks. All in all I had to say I looked pretty damn good—even with my messy short hair.          

    Of course I didn’t escape penalty-free for long. In 2nd period, my Algebra teacher, Mr. Powers, immediately let loose a string of unpleasant profanities that had me giggling hysterically when he took in my outfit. He was preparing to write me a detention and send me to see Dean Crabs but I threatened to tell the dean exactly what he said—especially since I always carried around a minature tape-recorder in my bag (you never know when the opportunity to blackmail someone presents itself) and instead he just wrote me the detention.

    I was surprised to realize Jason Knight was also in this class.

    He slipped me a note as soon as Mr. Powers started his boring lecture on log roots and formulas.

    Hey, so after classes, right? he wrote on the note.

    I turned in my seat and nodded to him—he was sitting in the seat adjacent to mine. And, as my crappy luck would have it, Zachary Daniels was sitting two seats back in the row next to mine.

    So, I wrote, have you come up with anything that will make Asshole #1 regret the day he ever had the misfortune of meeting me, yet? I’m getting tired of watching him and Barbie attack each other in public. It’s digusting.

    I folded the note up and shot it at him. A minute later the note landed on my desk.

    Yeah, I’ve been kicking some interesting plots around lately. Since your so impatient I’ve got one we can do tomorrow after visiting my dad. How ‘bout it?

    Okay,
my reply read, what is it?

    Well…I can’t write it down, but just make sure you bring a tube superstrong-super--glue, a carton of magic candles, five boxes of nails, a pair of prongs, a pack of matches, and a roll of duck tape, alright?

    Jeez, and what are you bringing?

    My ingenius plan of course.


© Copyright 2009 Kitty Hart (angelneko at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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