Divine Deception"Name Game"There is one mirror in front of me. I stare into the eyes of my reflection. My blue eyes, the ones dreading my next action. I only have to do it once more, though this is where I usually screw up and let go before I am completely finished, leaving a pain I can't rid myself of for another few days. I push back the locks of red that begin to block my vision, taking a couple deep breaths. "One more and that's it," I mutter, tightening my grip on the piece of fabric. I giggle hysterically for a moment before I can muster the courage to pull the waxed up slip up my leg, tearing out any hair that had once been underneath. "Son of a--"
"Delilah!" The voice scolds me from the other side of the bathroom door. My mother is always there when I least expect it. Like she's got a natural gift to see, and hear obviously, the future. "What did I say about cursing?"
"Sorry," I grumble. I stumble forward to the sink, crumpling the wax strip in the palm of my hand. I toss it in the garbage bin right after. I hate waxing, but after my experience with shaving left me with a nasty gash on my upper thigh, I decided blades were something I wanted to avoid if I could. It's a phobia. I eat my steak with a butter knife too. I should have known better than to try and shave. My psychologist says that my fear of blades comes from back when my father was murdered by the hired help, the nanny named Sadie Lawrence.
"Stop dilly-dallying," says my mother and I can hear her making her way down the hall. "You're going to be late for school."
I brush my teeth.
My mother has never understood how much work goes into being a woman of the Alto name. I mean, she should. She was the mayor many years ago. She and my father built the name off of nothing, growing it to be something of worth. It's funny. From how she goes on, she never uses it to her advantage. She never uses the family name like it is something to be proud of. She keeps it very hidden and goes about life in a simple manner. A simple woman in a simple time. Meanwhile, high school is a extremely pressing time in a young woman's life, like my own, and I flaunt that name like sprinkles at an ice cream truck. It's what's made me who I am today: head cheerleader.
"Delilah Alto, if you are not in that car in five minutes, the Vita-mobile is leaving and you're to take the bus."
I rinse my mouth out and run to my bedroom as fast as I can. I hate taking the bus. Only the losers take it, or those who can't care less about their status. That'll be the day that I take any bus of any kind. I hate public transportation on a whole different level. People have called me shallow, sure, but I need clean air to breathe. Not stuff that's contaminated by body odour.
My mother has laid out three outfits for me. One is an ugly pink dress that was sent over seas from one of my aunts a year and a bit ago. It still fits, unfortunately, but immediately I roll it into a ball and kick it under my bed. The second is a simple tee-shirt and shorts combo that looks as if it was found in the bargain bin at the local clothing store. The third choice isn't so bad. I slip on the long sleeve shirt with the tank top over it. Pulling up my shorts, I step into my flipflops and run as fast I can out the front door.
By the time we make it to school I still have five minutes until the bell rings. I ask my mother to drop me off at the corner of the street so I can walk in. She doesn't refuse. She doesn't even question it. She just sighs, slows the car down, and when she leans in to kiss me on the cheek, I offer my right first and then my left, never making contact with my lips.
"You'll be home for dinner?" she asks as I step out of the car.
"Uh, I'm not sure. Maybe." I don't say anything else and close the door.
As I make it up the stairs to the crowd of kids waiting to go inside, I see Heather McMaster. She's the other rich girl from the other side of town, blessed with perfect features and a nose that her parents got fixed for her. A freak in my own opinion. She likes to prattle on about how she's related to Katy Perry, but we all know it's a lie. Who does she think she's fooling? I roll my eyes as I make my way over to her.
"Heather!" I wave my hand as I get closer to her and we both, at the same time, lean in for a social kiss on the cheeks as if we are from Italy.
"Deli, I didn't see you at the bonfire on Saturday. Were you with a boy? Maybe Keith Sanderson? He wasn't there either."
The crowd around us turns into oohs and aahhs and I smirk to show that Heather might be onto something. Actually, I was stuck at home grounded because of the F I got on my last assignment. My mother had a freak out when I showed it to her after my teacher asked me to get a parent's signature.
Before anything else can be said, Tom Zaas is pointing and laughing at one of the other kids in our year. When I get a better look, I notice that it's Jordon. I used to be good friends with him until he got weird and started dressing like a girl. He obviously just wants attention and attention he will get. When the other kids start laughing, I can't help myself. I laugh too.
"What are you? Gay?" Tom snickers, getting the whole crowd to join in. "Come on, Jordon Sparks! Jordon Sparks!"
"This is who I am!" Jordon yells out at all of them. His eyes make contact with mine and I can see the little boy inside him. The one I had been friends with once. He stares me down as if pleading for help. Tom is on the other side of me, trying to rouse me into the crowd's chant. Deep inside, I know I have the power to end all of this. I can have the control over everybody else and can bring this all to a stop. There's also this little slice that reminds me that it could turn everybody against me too. That if I side with a freak, I am a freak as well.
But I have a name, I remind myself.
I have the Alto name."Whaddaya say, Alto?" Tom urges me again. "What do we do with Jordon Sparks here?"
I take a deep breath. "I have an ugly pink dress back at home that will fit him perfectly."
The crowd around me starts laughing and calling Jordon names and I watch as he pulls into himself, pushing past everybody and into the school where I know the taunting will never stop. I drop my gaze to the ground and follow the line of students into the school. I could have stopped it. I could have hurt myself at the same time.
The rest of the school day is uneventful. At the end of the day I pass Heather and a group of the other cheerleaders in the hall. Heather asks me if I want to go shopping with them. I tell them no, that I have a ton of homework to do and if I don't finish it by the end of the night, I'll have my mother on top of me. So I head to the library. I am able to finish my book report and do an essay on entrepreneurship within two hours. When I check the time, I decide to start on my literature paper. Even if it's not due for another week, I may as well get a head start since I'm here.
"I heard what you did this morning," somebody says on the other side of the table. When I look up I see a weighty girl who knows no bounds when it comes to highlighting her hair.
I raise my eyebrows in disgust. "Excuse me?"
"What you did with Jordon!"
I roll my eyes and lean back in my seat, glancing down at my notes. "I'm sorry, but don't you have a toad to kiss or something?" I dismiss her with a wave of my hand, not bothering to look up at her.
"You are appalling!" she snaps. "You think because you have looks and money you can treat anybody you'd like like crap. You cheerleaders are all the same."
My glare soars up to meet hers. "Listen, whoever you are, I get it. You're mad. Jordon will get over it and we'll all move on."
The girl makes a noise that I can only decrypt as contempt. She grabs her book and sticks her nose inside it. "Whatever."
This girl's dismissal frustrates me and suddenly makes me feel the need to appear above her. "Hey, it's a game of survival and the sooner you realize it, the better off you'll be."
"This isn't
The Apprentice. Besides, all you have in your survival pack is a name. A name that was tarnished a long time ago." She snorts at herself. "I'd be careful who you speak to about the Alto legacy."
The girl's nose may be stuffed in her book, but I am about ready to bore a hole through the pages and into her skull. My hands clamp around the side of the table and my right knee bounces up and down, bleeding my frustration into the air. Who is she to talk to me that way? "The Alto name is strong--"
The girl chuckles. "No it's not. It's a laughing stock."
"What do you mean?" I ask. I am more interested in seeing her fail at an explanation than anything.
She puts her book away and gets up from her seat. "Do your own work and figure it out yourself. Stop getting everybody else to do your dirty work for you."
I grab onto her hand to stop her from leaving. "You're lying, right? Trying to get one over on the top cheerleader? Payback for Jordon maybe?"
"As if," she snorts. "Now, let go of me."
"Tell me what you mean, exactly."
"No." She pulls her hand away.
"I'll pay you."
"I don't want your money."
"Then I'll let you have dinner with me. Eating out in the open with the most popular girl in school is sure to get you some points with everybody else in the yard." I can see by the repulsive look in the girl's eyes that she doesn't agree. "Whatever, I just want to know what you mean."
The girl sighs heavily, checks her watch and then says, "Fine, but only because I'm starving."
We head to the nearest diner and grab a seat. It smells like cooking oil and greasy food. Where the corners of the windows are caked in grime and the tops of the salt shakers are always loose from teenagers like me. Once my platter of fries and a hamburger arrive, I check my salt to make sure I won't be pranked. Just to keep on my new friend's good side, I suggest that she be careful about the pepper and vinegar too. When everything is all set, I ask her again what she meant about the Alto name being a laughing stock, and she tells me.
My mother was the mayor of Sunset Valley and before she could be elected again, a surveillance video was broadcasted all across the town of her wanting to take sponsorship money and run off with the hired help. "Mr. Alto wasn't much different. He'd had a lovely affair with some other chick who ended up killing him."
"The nanny?" I ask bewildered. I scan her face for any signs of lies. "H-He never had an affair with her. She was jealous of my mother and killed him because of it. He never had anything to do with her."
"No, Mr. Alto was very promiscuous, although he did end up marrying that woman."
I glare at the girl across from me with an emotion I don't know a word for. Fury, repulsion, antagonized? "I never caught your name."
"Alicia."
"Well, Alicia, you obviously know nothing about my family--"
"Oh, I know more than you think."
"No, you don't. It's obvious this was a ploy to get me here. To be seen like we were friends in public."
"You're the one who wanted me to stay. Not the other way around."
I shake my irritably. "It's not my fault for thinking better of a lesser."
"It's never your fault, is it?"
I push my chair from the table and throw what I owe on the table. "Watch your back tomorrow at school," I growl and make my way out of the diner. The story that Alicia made up swirls around in my mind making me chuckle to myself all the way home. I think about how I had believed that girl held some information that I wanted. That she had some inside chink on my family's name. Instead, it turned out to be complete hogwash and I can't get any of it out of my head.