Genesis Girl (Blank Slate #1) - Jennifer Bardsley Page 0,29
where I supposedly released him according to my own initiative. Or that first night under the tree when we kissed beneath the stars. Or our morning together alone in his room. Or yesterday, eating oranges in the sunshine.
Seth whips around and points his finger right at Cal. “Did you tell her to do all of it? Did you make her pretend to like me?”
“I told her to release you from jail.”
“Is that all?” Seth’s voice is deadly.
“Almost,” Cal answers. “I told Blanca to be friendly, to encourage you to come back home. That’s it, Seth. I swear. I want Blanca to make her own decisions.”
“Does she or doesn’t she, Dad? Does Blanca make her own decisions or not?”
“No,” Cal admits. “Not usually.”
“It’s better that way.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. I can’t stand having them look at me like I’m a freak show. I need to make them understand. “People make crappy decisions all the time. Then they plaster them over the Internet! Vestals are free from all that. We completely abstain.”
“Abstain from technology, yeah, I get that. It’s messed up, but I get it.” Seth shakes his head. “But abstain from decision making?”
“I make lots of decisions,” I protest. “Cal tells me what to do, and I decide how to do it.”
“That’s ridiculous,” says Seth. He turns his derision on Cal. “I can’t believe you’d go along with this.”
“But it’s not your dad’s fault! It simply is how it is, and it’s for the best. Please, Cal. Please don’t make me see Headmaster Russell and Ms. Lydia without directions. They’ll know!”
“You don’t need directions,” says Cal. “Be yourself, and you’ll be fine.”
I don’t bother considering this. “Myself? I am loyal. I am discrete. I follow the rules. How can I be any of that if you don’t tell me what to do?” I grab Cal’s hands in mine and beg. “Please help me!” When that doesn’t work, I get down on my knees and beg him again. “Please. Give me some directions.”
Seth’s gaze bounces back and forth between us. His attitude oozes revulsion. “You’re both sick,” he says. “I hope you know that.”
Cal’s expression is twisted in pain, but he comes through for me after all, like deep down I always hoped he would. I knew he’d be a good purchaser ever since that first night he told me his plans.
“Get up off the floor, Blanca.” Cal squeezes my hands. “Take a quick shower and get ready. You’ll follow my lead, okay? We’ll tell your teachers everything is fine and then figure the rest out.”
My tears start all over again. I knew I could count on Cal.
“Will you stay for this?” Cal asks Seth. “So Blanca doesn’t have to face these people alone?”
I don’t know what Seth is going to say. I don’t think Cal knows either. Maybe Seth has to think about it, because he doesn’t answer for a while. Then he says one simple word that proves once and for all he’s loyal.
“Yes.”
That bastard. That tech-addicted, ink-polluted bastard.
He just made me like him for real.
I’m showered, my face is scrubbed, I’m wearing a white dress, and I’m sitting between both of the McNeals. I’m pulling it together all right, exactly like Cal told me to.
And it’s not like Headmaster Russell can do anything to me anyway, not with Ms. Lydia here. She appears graceful as always in a simple white dress. She’s deceptively elegant, her power of persona cloaked in cotton.
Headmaster Russell is in full Vestal regalia, right down to his white leather boots. It’s warm in McNeal Manor, and sweat beads his forehead.
“Does that Virus have to be here for this?” Headmaster Russell asks.
Seth opens his mouth, but Cal stops him. “This man has a very distinguished career.”
“A career?” Headmaster Russell scoffs. “A scumbag like him?”
“Who are you calling a scumbag, asshole?” Seth retorts.
“He’s not a scumbag, he’s a viral blogger, and he also happens to be my son,” Cal says. “I’m proud of what he’s accomplished. Veritas Rex has broken ten top news stories in the past year alone. It has more followers than the president.”
Headmaster Russell is about to pop.
Ms. Lydia stands up just in time. “You have a lovely home here, Mr. McNeal.” Her heart-shaped face is the perfect type of tranquil. She’s a reminder to me of all the ways I’ve screwed up.
“Thank you. My late wife oversaw the decorating.”
Ms. Lydia doesn’t balk, but Headmaster Russell does. He must know about the redhead.