DOUBLE LIFE
Chapter 1: Package
RENEE’S POV
THE PAST
T h r e e y e a r s a g o
"Jonah is concealing things from me,"
I drum my fingers repetitively on the table in the cafeteria, forsaking my untouched food due to the turmoil in my mind. The fact that my boyfriend is engaging with unfamiliar individuals, skipping classes excessively, and barely sparing time for me troubles me deeply. I'm reluctant to believe he would cheat on me; he surely wouldn't sink so low to shame me in such a manner... would he?
"I'm sure she thinks she's attractive," Loretta, my best friend since 5th grade, disregards my concerns and gestures towards one of the girls at the isolated table, dubbed the 'forgotten table' by Loretta due to its inhabitants' lack of social interaction.
"Can't you see that Jonah's recent behavior is unusual?" I retort with frustration, grabbing her full attention.
"Renee relax, Jonah has no motive to cheat on you, in case that's what you're worrying about. I'm certain he's dealing with personal problems. Look at yourself: beautiful, intelligent, popular, the best in this school. Even a fool wouldn't betray you, and Jonah is no fool."
Her words provide some solace, yet the unsettling feeling inside me lingers. It's as if she knows more, but I brush it aside, as usual.
"What if we remind those girls at the forgotten table who's in charge?" Loretta pulls me to my feet, prompting other students to tremble in response.
At times, I resent how every student fears us, but on days like today, I allow myself to revel in the influence that Loretta and I wield in this high school. I stride beside my best friend towards the socially isolated students.
As soon as the girls notice us, their speech falters into incoherent babbling, nearly provoking a chuckle from me.
"D - Did uhm I am ehm..."
"Silence," Loretta commands, and they comply immediately.
"I am the queen,"
I wanted to question Loretta about her consistent reference to herself as the queen, but the venom in her tone makes me hesitate, almost fearful. Unfortunately, Loretta doesn't get to finish her statement, as the bell rings and everyone rushes back to class.
***
P R E S E N T D A Y
My stomach let out its familiar growl once more, the fifth time now, signaling its urgent need for food. Rubbing my eyes, I sluggishly moved from my room to the kitchen. The vacant space met my gaze, prompting a heavy sigh to escape my lips. Even the fridge held nothing of value. Frustration surged within me, and I slammed the fridge door shut before collapsing onto a kitchen stool. Kelly's deliberate act of withholding groceries, a result of the recent gang incident, left me exasperated. As the rumbling in my stomach persisted, I found myself wandering towards my sister's room.
"Kelly, how can we have an empty kitchen again?" My voice rose with irritation, but she remained absorbed in her makeup application. Unfazed, I raised my volume, hoping to capture her attention. Briefly, she acknowledged me with a look that conveyed her annoyance.
Damn it! Amidst my anger, I couldn't help but admire her stunning appearance in the mint green dress, her natural beauty enhanced by her olive skin and impeccable fashion sense. A fact her boss seemed to appreciate as well.
"Mom would never treat me like this." My tone was softer this time, yet still audible enough to reach her ears. Her reaction gave me pause; I had clearly struck a nerve. Slowly turning to face me, her emotions were inscrutable, but her glare spoke volumes.
"Should anything happen in this house or if you find yourself in trouble again, don't expect my forgiveness."
With those ominous words, she grabbed her designer handbag and departed. My lungs expelled the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, relief flooding through me as the tension in the room dissipated.
Recollections of the trouble I'd landed in a week prior resurfaced—being exposed for pilfering drugs by a snitch, leading the mafia to unleash destruction upon our home. I couldn't replace the shattered dishes and destroyed TV. Kelly's trust in my lies saved me, as she could never learn of my involvement with the Mafia.
"Damn it."
Collapsing onto her bed, I pondered ways to satiate my grumbling stomach, but my mind remained blank. A sudden vibration from my phone soured my mood, the caller ID revealing an unwanted presence. I couldn't refuse him, and my heart sank.
"Hello, Jace."
"Renee, I have another delivery."
Ever since Cecilia's henchmen wrecked our home, Jace had offered a steady supply of drugs for me to sell, a means of earning my own money. But, my inability to resist the allure of the drugs left me conflicted. I clenched my eyes shut and bit down hard on my lower lip.
"Are you still there?" Jace's voice broke my reverie.
I released my abused lip, responding reluctantly, "Yeah, you can drop by."
After seven hours of selling to my regular clientele, I began counting the little earnings. While modest, these few dollars could at least contribute to restocking our kitchen with groceries. I set some cash aside and resumed partaking in the little stash of drugs I kept for myself. However, my gaze was captured by the framed photograph of my deceased parents, hung next to our antiquated wall clock. The weight of my guilt for causing their demise froze me in place, and as per routine, tears welled up and streamed down my face. Suddenly, a deafening noise shattered my reverie, jolting me back to reality.
"Quit banging on the damn door!" I shouted, hastily finishing the remaining drugs and brushing off any residue from my face and clothes.
"Renee, you've got two seconds to open this damn door!" Kelly's voice boomed from the other side.
"What took you so long?" She inquired as she entered.
"I'm sorry."
"Is everything okay?" Suspicion colored her gaze as she scrutinized me, and I shook my head.
"You're hiding something," she stated, arms folded.
Damn it!
"I-uhm, I couldn't buy groceries because work was demanding," I stammered. Yet, unlike her usual trust, skepticism flickered across her eyes again. She dropped her designer handbag beside the cash I left.
"You've been working as a sanitation worker, right?"
"Yes, and you know I've been doing that for three years, so why ask now?"
"You're going to quit. And before you say anything, listen. I've arranged a part-time job that's less strenuous, giving you time to continue your education," she declared after a few moments.
I stared at her, utterly blank, then began pacing restlessly. She remained unaware of the dire straits I was ensnared in, how leaving my job wasn't a viable option despite my desire to do so.
"Renee," her hand touched my arm, and I flinched.
"You don't get it. I can't quit."
Before she could process my words or respond, I turned away.