Chapter 3 Chapter Three
The bus ride home was somehow worse. People stared at me, their eyes lingering on my stained dress and the liquid still dripping from my hair, but no one said anything. I kept my head down until I got to my stop, praying no one from school was on board.
Mom was on the night shift when I got home, thank God. She would've taken one look at me and started asking questions I didn't have answers to, and somehow that would've turned into a conversation about responsibility and choices and everything I was already doing wrong. She had enough to carry without adding me to it.
I locked the door behind me and stood in the entryway, my dress sticking to my skin, the smell making me nauseous. I couldn't stand being in my own skin. I stared at my phone that hadn't stopped buzzing since I left Chloe's house. The screen was shattered, but it still lit up with notifications from numbers I didn't recognize. I didn't need to open them to know what they were saying.
I made it to my room before the tears I'd been holding finally came. The dress had practically fused to my skin, and I had to peel it off inch by inch, feeling every pull.
I went straight to the shower and turned the water on as hot as I could stand, letting it pour down and wash everything away.
Elma's call on Snapchat jolted me back to reality. I had forgotten how long I stood under the shower. I quickly stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around myself before reaching for my phone on the counter.
The notifications had tripled. I ignored them even though part of me was desperate to know how bad it was. I couldn't bring myself to look.
I definitely gave them a show.
I stared at Elma's call longer. She had been calling since I got on the bus, but I knew she'd keep calling until I answered. I let it ring twice before picking up, my voice coming out scratchy and raw.
"M? Oh my god, finally. I've been calling since last night." Her relief flooded through the phone. "I'm so sorry. I never should've pushed you to go. Kem is such a bitch. I can't believe she used to be our friend."
"How did you…" I stopped, realizing everyone probably knew by now. I dropped onto the edge of my bed, water still dripping from my hair.
"I saw the videos," She muttered, barely audible. "M, I'm so sorry. I've been reporting them, and I'll keep reporting until they're taken down.”
"Thanks, El." I smoothed my hands over my arms. “I should’ve known better and stayed home.”
"Don't say that. This isn't your fault. They're the ones who should be ashamed, not you."
I wanted to believe her, but all I could see was Chloe's face as she smashed the pie into mine and the way everyone laughed.
"Maybe you could do online classes for a bit?" Elma suggested carefully. "Just until things calm down?"
I heard her exhale softly.
“For how long? I can’t hide forever.”
“You’re right.” She sighed. “I wish I wasn't ten hours' drive away from you. But you know I’m always here for you, right?”
“I know.”
My phone started buzzing in my hand with another call. I glanced at the screen and saw Mrs. Yulan's name.
"El, I have to take this. Mrs. Yulan's calling."
“Okay. Call me later?”
“Yeah. I will.”
I hung up with Elma and stared at Mrs. Yulan's name on my screen for a second before answering. She owned my favorite bookstore downtown. She'd been letting me sit and read for hours since I was twelve, even teaching me basic Mandarin when the store was slow.
I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal.
"Hi, Mrs. Yulan."
"Did I wake you, my child?"
"No, I'm awake." I sat up a little. "Do you need help at the store tomorrow?"
"No, dear, but one of my old friends is looking for a nanny and tutor for her eight-year-old daughter. Twenty dollars an hour. Are you available?"
Twenty dollars an hour was more than I made in a week at my current job. I gripped my phone tighter.
"Yes, I'm available." The words tumbled out. "That would really help with college textbooks."
"Good. I will send the address right away."
She hung up and I fell back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling as my phone buzzed with her text a minute later.
356 Willowbrook Crescent, Willowbrook Heights. 4 pm. Mrs. Helen doesn't tolerate lateness.
Twenty dollars an hour could change everything. Eight hundred for textbooks, maybe a thousand for a laptop that didn't take five minutes to boot up, and if I could save enough, I could help Mom with the mortgage before the bank started sending more letters.
I stood in front of a magnificent building, wondering if I should ring the bell or adjust my hoodie the fifth time. Finally deciding that I had adjusted enough, I took a deep breath, positioned myself at the door cam, then forced myself to ring the doorbell before I lost my nerve.
“Hi, Mrs. Helen, this is Mirabel, the new nanny from Mrs. Yulan.”
A few minutes passed, and I started second-guessing whether I should ring again or just wait. I looked around at the perfect houses and remembered growing up in a neighborhood like this before everything fell apart, and we had to move.
The door swung open.
A woman stood there in a silk robe with a sheet mask plastered across her face, looking at me like I'd personally inconvenienced her.
"You're late."
"It’s three fifty-five. I thought the appointment was at four."
Her expression stopped me mid-sentence.
"Bedtime is eight-thirty on school nights, but tonight she can stay up until nine since it’s Saturday. She's allergic to shellfish." She turned and started up the stairs without waiting to see if I'd follow. I hurried after her. "No junk food. I don't want her getting fat."
She stopped on the last word and turned just enough to let her eyes scan me from head to toe before continuing up.
My face burned, but I kept my voice steady.
"Noted."
“There’s a housekeeper who comes in the evening, so you won’t need to worry about cleaning.”
"Emma, I'm off for practice. Don't miss me too much!" A voice called from upstairs, cutting through Mrs. Helen's words.
Then a door opened somewhere above us, and footsteps came down the stairs. I looked up, and my entire body went cold.
Nathaniel Martinez.
He walked down with his hair still wet from a shower, wearing a white vest that fit tight across his chest.
Every part of me wanted to make up an excuse and leave before this got any worse, but my legs wouldn't cooperate.
"Nat, this is..." Mrs. Helen snapped her fingers at me. "What's your name again?"
"Mirabel." I barely got the word out.
"She's Emma's new nanny."
His gaze snapped to mine, his jaw setting as his hand clenched at his side. He held my eyes for a beat, then shoved a hand through his damp hair and brushed past me, his shoulder hitting mine as he went down the stairs. I followed Mrs. Helen down the hall in a daze, stopping outside a door near the end.
"Emma!" she called, knocking twice. "Your new nanny is here."
"Go away!" a small voice yelled from inside.
“I have things to do.” She sighed. “She’s all yours. It’s twenty dollars an hour, paid at the end of your shift. I’ll handle the payment when I get back. Emergency numbers are on the fridge.”
And then she was gone, leaving me alone in the hallway outside a locked door.
I took a shaky breath and knocked softly.
"Emma? It's Mirabel. Your new Nanny."
"Don't care. Just leave."
Great.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.
Of all the houses in all of New Jersey, it had to be his.
