All of the girls in my class wanted to be friends with Mira. She was popular, charismatic, a good student, and beautiful – not to mention that her parents were filthy rich. An 18-year-old couldn't dream of a better life than that.
Well, I tell a lie. Most of the girls wanted to BE Mira. But if you couldn't do that, being her friend was also good.
So when the bell rang at the end of the school day, and Mira asked me if I wanted to hang out that afternoon, I jumped at the opportunity.
We spent an hour or two at the mall, trying on skirts and sipping some eye-wateringly expensive lattes. For the sake of my pride, I'd made a token effort to pay for my coffee myself, but she insisted on treating me – which was fortunate, because I had very little money and really didn't want to waste it like this. I didn't even know they sold such expensive drinks in my little town, but I guess when your parents are loaded, you get used to treats like that.
Our shopping trip done, we headed back to her home to relax. As we entered the house, we were greeted by a very angry-looking maid. Yes, they have a maid. One who walks around all day in that silly black costume from old movies, and who cleans so they don't have to. Did I mention that her parents were rolling in it?
The maid, who was a tall, slim woman with short, red hair, folded her arms in front of her chest and glared at Mira. "And where have you been, young lady?"
I was slightly taken aback; I'd never had a maid before, but I didn't think they talked to their employers like that. Maybe it was because she was the daughter of the house and not the owner. Mira sighed, rolling her eyes. "I was at the mall, Abigail. Chill."
"Your parents gave you strict instructions to come straight home from school today. They wanted to talk to you before they left for their evening out, but they couldn't wait any longer." She raised an eyebrow in a way that reminded me of the expression my mother wore whenever I was in trouble. "They had also told you to clean your room yesterday, if I recall correctly."
Mira huffed. "I'm hanging out with Jenny right now. I'll do it later."
Abigail the Maid nodded. "Yes, you will. Your parents instructed me to make sure you cleaned your room today. They also asked me to deal with your disobedience so far." She sat down on a straight-backed armless wooden chair that stood nearby, patting her lap. "Come here, Mira."
I stared at the maid. She didn't mean what I thought she meant, right? I just had a dirty mind – there was no way in hell that my eighteen-year-old classmate was about to be spanked by her maid. I glanced over at Mira, about to share my amusing mistake with her, and I was shocked to see her fidget and nervously chew her finger, suddenly transformed into a naughty little girl. She'd come to the same conclusion I had, and from her reaction, it wasn't the first time it had happened.
"Come here, Mira," Abigail repeated, her voice several degrees colder as she patted her lap again. I guess Mira's words had accomplished something – the maid HAD chilled.
Well, I tell a lie. Most of the girls wanted to BE Mira. But if you couldn't do that, being her friend was also good.
So when the bell rang at the end of the school day, and Mira asked me if I wanted to hang out that afternoon, I jumped at the opportunity.
We spent an hour or two at the mall, trying on skirts and sipping some eye-wateringly expensive lattes. For the sake of my pride, I'd made a token effort to pay for my coffee myself, but she insisted on treating me – which was fortunate, because I had very little money and really didn't want to waste it like this. I didn't even know they sold such expensive drinks in my little town, but I guess when your parents are loaded, you get used to treats like that.
Our shopping trip done, we headed back to her home to relax. As we entered the house, we were greeted by a very angry-looking maid. Yes, they have a maid. One who walks around all day in that silly black costume from old movies, and who cleans so they don't have to. Did I mention that her parents were rolling in it?
The maid, who was a tall, slim woman with short, red hair, folded her arms in front of her chest and glared at Mira. "And where have you been, young lady?"
I was slightly taken aback; I'd never had a maid before, but I didn't think they talked to their employers like that. Maybe it was because she was the daughter of the house and not the owner. Mira sighed, rolling her eyes. "I was at the mall, Abigail. Chill."
"Your parents gave you strict instructions to come straight home from school today. They wanted to talk to you before they left for their evening out, but they couldn't wait any longer." She raised an eyebrow in a way that reminded me of the expression my mother wore whenever I was in trouble. "They had also told you to clean your room yesterday, if I recall correctly."
Mira huffed. "I'm hanging out with Jenny right now. I'll do it later."
Abigail the Maid nodded. "Yes, you will. Your parents instructed me to make sure you cleaned your room today. They also asked me to deal with your disobedience so far." She sat down on a straight-backed armless wooden chair that stood nearby, patting her lap. "Come here, Mira."
I stared at the maid. She didn't mean what I thought she meant, right? I just had a dirty mind – there was no way in hell that my eighteen-year-old classmate was about to be spanked by her maid. I glanced over at Mira, about to share my amusing mistake with her, and I was shocked to see her fidget and nervously chew her finger, suddenly transformed into a naughty little girl. She'd come to the same conclusion I had, and from her reaction, it wasn't the first time it had happened.
"Come here, Mira," Abigail repeated, her voice several degrees colder as she patted her lap again. I guess Mira's words had accomplished something – the maid HAD chilled.