My mother would be pissed if she knew about my grandmother put me in a private school. She would not want me to be around some, fake rich kids.
My grandmother says “It is a great honor to go to a school like this, Aleta.”
“Oh yeah, if this is an honor, I don’t want it,” I say with a smirk on my face.
As I think about my day ahead, I glad I don’t have to sit around looking at my grandmother take care of my grandfather all day. I feel like I am living in an old folk’s home. She will drop me off and rush back to make lunch for him as they forget all about my struggles. I’ll stay here for the day to get away from that brain numbing routine.
Maybe, I will pretend to like going to this place just to get through the school day. I don’t want to have her drive me here all of the time.
“Are you going to drive me to this place every day?” I ask.
“No, I don’t have the time to do this,” she said as she makes a left following the sign to the main building. “Your grandfather needs all of my time these days.”
“Are you going to let me drive your beamer to this school?” I ask turning my head towards her.
“Oh no, dear, you have to get your license first,” she replies.
“No, grandma, I know how to drive, just let me drive myself,” I beg, shifting in my seat.
“I will not,” she stated. “I may pay for driver’s training for you at some point to help you get your license.”
“When?”
I shouldn’t be here long enough to need a license in Florida license. I did not even think about driving in New York or getting a driver’s license.
“If you do a good job here and earn good grades, I will pay for driver’s training for you,” responded my grandmother.
“Oh wow, I can’t wait,” I said in a sarcastic tone.
I am not planning to earn good grades. I hope I fail the fuck out of this place. She does not know anything about my past at my old school. I am not stupid and know how to get my work done, but if I want to play around, I can do that too. I can focus when I want to and make the honor roll. It was practically too easy with my teachers. All you had to do was pay attention when the teacher was talking, turn my assignments in on time, and smile here and there when they were looking. Most of the kids were either sleeping or talking to each other, so the teachers appreciated an attentive student.
My grandparents have made a lot of money as real estate investors and they would love to make deals with the parents of these rich kids. They offered a house for us to live in down here, but my mother never wanted to live close to her parents. That’s why she took us far away from New York.
Ever since my grandfather has become more of a handful for my grandmother, she talked my mother into moving us into their mini mansion to help out. I wanted to stay with my friends riding the subway, laughing, and singing our hearts out to the latest hit.
My mother always said she loved my voice and that I had a gift for music. She sang around our little apartment all of the time too. She would teach me her favorite songs from the nineties. I will not be singing down in this hot hell of a place.
My grandmother turns the car into a large parking lot driving alongside a white sidewalk until we drive into a u-shaped loop. We come to a stop to wait in a line behind large SUVs and expensive sedans as students bounce out of their vehicles looking happy to be here.
“No, I’m not doing this every day, Aleta,” she says with a sigh. “I’ll sign you up for a car service until you make some friends. I’m sure there is a carpool you can join.”
I look up at her open sunroof wishing I could jump out of it an run away from her and this stuck up school.
“Take it all in, dear,” she says tapping my arm. “Look at where you’re going to school.”
I put my head back down and stare out of my window at the art deco buildings. They look like they were designed by a young architect trying to make this school look like a fun place to be. The buildings are all tan with light blue, coral, and light green accents. They are all three stories spread out on both sides of the drop off loop.
There is a large tan stucco archway that all of the students walk through with the words Greenfield Academy written across the top of it.
Situated right outside of Palm Beach County, the school owned by a group of wealthy corporate families, they charge enough to make sure only the offspring of the rich can attend.
CHAPTER FOUR
Istudy the tall palm trees swaying back and forth in the wind. I can tell they were planted to be the perfect distance apart from each other and didn’t just grow up here on their own. Below
