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23. Ciaran

23

CIARAN

I fled the pool, not even grabbing a towel or looking back at Matty. I just ran up the basement stairwell, dripped water on the floors in the main house and into the backyard, and stalked into the guesthouse like a serial killer intent on finding my next victim.

Why did I care if Matty brought someone back to the guesthouse last night?

Except, he'd been lying . Why? Why lie about it?

Why'd I care if he lied about bringing someone back to his room?

His lying about it and my reaction to it made zero sense.

Franky, who was pulsating yellow and green mush in the blender at the kitchen counter, looked up and stopped what she was doing to openly gawk at me.

"Heya Ciaran," she said cautiously, pulling earbuds away from her ears. "You received a call in the main house. Miss Paulina transcribed it, and it's printed on sheet of paper on your desk upstairs."

"Thank you," I all but yelled, still dripping on the floor like a drowned cat.

"Um…" She hesitated before coming into the living room. "In general, I don't pry, but did something happen in the pool?" She handed me a kitchen towel that smelled of lemons. "Like, did you have to wrestle an alligator or something?"

I stifled a laugh as I dried my hair. "Alligators are not native to California, Franky, but I have a feeling you knew that."

"Yes. That's why it would be a noteworthy event." That coaxed a smile out of me, which I'm sure was her intent. She was great at defusing a bad situation. Reentering the kitchen, Franky continued, "It might also explain why you're as tight as a bowstring, ready to snap."

"No alligators unless that's a euphemism for Matty being a dick."

I followed her to the counter as she pulsed the mush a few more times in the blender.

Franky poured all the contents of the smoothie into a large tumbler cup with a wide straw. She didn't offer it to me, so it must be for Matty. She placed it in the fridge.

"I like that. Instead of asking Matty, ‘Why are you being such a dick?' we could say, ‘Stop being an alligator.' Would that work?"

"I can work with that," I said. "It will be our own inside joke, which will irritate the hell out of him." I was already imagining the irritation it would cause Matty.

Franky's face bunched up and she leaned into the counter.

"Listen," she started, her steady tone like that of an older sister trying to impart wisdom on an inattentive sibling, "I don't mind jokes at the expense of others, and Matty is, in most cases, fair game, but maybe rethink your motivation on this one."

"What do you mean?"

I opened the fridge behind me to grab a bottle of water. Franky had been busy. I counted three smoothies, several bowls of chopped fruit, egg quiche muffins, and ziplock bags of steaks marinating in amber liquid. Beef patties and packets of hot dogs were loaded on the bottom shelf. With Memorial Day coming up, Matty must be having friends over in the next few days for a cookout.

"Your actions and decisions should be for yourself or for the benefit of others…and not done to spite someone else. Trust me when I say it won't actually bring you joy and, in fact, it may make you feel worse in the long run. All I suggest is you examine why you're upset and either remedy it, accept it, or ignore it. You've entered an entirely new world so I know everything will take getting used to."

"Not to mention my mom left last night," I added, more to myself than to Franky, though her eyes were sympathetic. "Thanks Franky. That's good advice."

Mom had sent a heart text earlier telling me she'd send a message from each stop on the honeymoon. I was, essentially, on my own in a house full of strangers in a town where I barely knew a soul.

I desperately wanted someone to confide in. Someone who would be my friend and not judge me for the confusing emotions tumbling around in my head.

Franky, however nice she might be, was an employee here at Vaulteneau.

She wasn't here because she wanted to be, any more than most people wanted to be at their jobs. She was here because it was her job as Matty's personal assistant.

It wasn't Franky's job to become my den mother.

"You're in new territory, Ciaran," Franky said gently. She wrote something down on a slip of paper and handed it to me. "I'll be off duty soon, but here's my number. I live inland, but call or text me if you need help or don't know where you are or what to do. In a few hours, the staff in the main house will be a skeleton crew. During the week, while Matty is in school, especially when Mr. Vaulteneau is away from the estate, it is a ghost house here."

"I'll be busy with my own schoolwork, too," I explained. I didn't want her to think I'd be wondering around helplessly.

She nodded. "If you get bored, I'll write down a list of fun places you can get to by ordering a rideshare. The estate has a chef on retainer, but there are plenty of restaurants you can order from if you're in the mood for something different. Charge everything to the estate. Matty can help you with a new wardrobe, though between his school assignment, swim practices, and Trojan events, you may not see much of him. I have a fashion friend who is trying to break into the business. I think he'd happily help you, provided you were interested in that. His name is Claude."

"All of that sounds great, thanks, Franky." She was correct in that I didn't want to depend on Matty for everything. If he was as busy as described, then I probably wouldn't see much of him except for the weekends, and even then, if he was involved in competitions and celebrity parties, it would be very, very quiet here on the estate. Strangely, with this newfound knowledge, I felt a sense of abandonment. "My attire is sadly inadequate for my new life here. I'll probably call Claude this week to get started."

"Perfect," Franky said, twirling the pen in her hand. "This will take me a few minutes. You best get cleaned up. I have a few more errands to run for Matty before noon, but let me know if you need anything. Lunch and dinner are already in the fridge, with heating instructions written on top."

Franky was still writing things down when I ran upstairs. I was showered, dressed, and at the desk in my bedroom in no time. I picked up the envelope from Miss Paulina and removed the letter inside. When Franky said the message had been transcribed , she wasn't fibbing.

The message had been typed out on official paper with the Vaulteneau seal at the top.

It read: "Dear Mr. Galbraith, the following message was received from your high school counselor Mr. Jones from the Clark County School District concerning your virtual login and assignments loaded into Schoology for the upcoming week."

I sucked in a breath and sank in the swivel chair when I saw Drew's name in the first line.

Of course he'd send instructions through official channels, but still it stung that he hadn't bothered to email me directly. Why go through the estate? Was this Drew's way of putting additional distance between us?

Power through it, Ciaran. You can do this.

Gritting my teeth, I folded the letter and placed it in the top drawer of the desk. Next, I retrieved my school laptop from my bookbag, logged into my school's network, and reviewed each class's lesson plan, quiz instructions, required reading, and the details for all assignments due by Friday.

There were a lot of things to do and I'd have to keep myself honest and manage my time well.

At least I knew what the week ahead looked like. Hopefully Franky wrote down nearby bookstores on her list. I had a few books I needed to buy before the end of the day.

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