Bastards and Scapegoats

just met.”
“I was kind of shitty, wasn’t I?” Jess asked.
“A little? But it doesn’t really matter. Jack’s about to be here, and I have to move into a new apartment I’ve never seen, learn about a school I don’t want to go to, and deal with the trauma of a home invasion that happened yesterday. But hey. Thanks for giving me a stamp of approval that I never asked for.”
Jess rolled her eyes, like my speech was an inconvenience. “Are you done? Give me your phone,” she said while holding out her palm.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to give you my number and we’re going to be friends. I might be a little eccentric and a hell of a lot overprotective of Hamilton, but it’s with good reason. You know, in the four years we’ve lived together, he’s never once brought someone home? He always fucks at hotels. He has some guy friends, but even they don’t come here.”
Holy whiplash, Batman.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tossed it to her, not caring if she saw the text from Jack. She typed a bit and then called herself so that she could have my number too.
“Jack’s here,” she said while handing me back my phone. “Do me a favor and tell him to get fucked for me.” She licked her middle finger and grinned playfully.
“I like Jack,” I answered.
“Sure you do. Everyone hates him eventually,” Jess replied ominously. “I’ll call you later. We’re going to hang out. I can see why Hamilton is nice to you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t call me? Yeah?” I asked while throwing my duffel bag over my shoulder.
“Too late. I like you now. I’m going to wear you down,” Jess said before grabbing the TV remote and turning on the news. I made my way to the front door, with Little Mama hot on my heels.
I paused before opening the door so I could scratch behind her ears. “See you soon,” I promised the perfect pooch. She wagged her entire lower body in excitement.
“Morning! Do you want a tour of the campus?” was the first thing Jack asked when I settled in the cool leather passenger seat of his Aston Martin. When did Hamilton bring it back to the house? Jack’s tone was giddy as he gripped the steering wheel. Something about his demeanor made me think he was avoiding what had happened yesterday with Saint and our phone call about Hamilton.
“That would be great, Jack,” I replied.
“Perfect!”
I was still shaken from all the things that had happened yesterday and today. Saint showing up. Hamilton coming to the rescue. Jess interrogating me. It felt like an earthquake tearing apart my own existence. Shaky ground didn’t make for a good foundation, and it felt like my entire world was cracked right down the middle. I had nothing really to hold on to.
Four boxes. Four measly boxes lined the back of Jack Beauregard’s Aston Martin. My life summed up in flimsy cardboard stuffed with mementos from a life that now felt foreign to me. Thankfully, Jack had grabbed my belongings from the house and brought them here. I was glad I didn’t have to go back to his estate so soon. Even though I was anxious about this new phase of my life, I was glad I didn’t have to stay there any longer. Saint really freaked me out, and the more I could distance myself from that, the better. I just wanted to feel normal for a bit.
According to Jack, interior designers had already taken over and moved in brand new top-of-the-line furniture. Expertly tailored outfits for every occasion were also delivered two days ago. It felt like too much, but he assured me that he was happy to do it. “We have a lot of events coming up with my reelection. I want you to feel comfortable and have nice things to wear to them.”
Was what I already owned not enough?
I tossed him a polite smile while adjusting the freezing cold air vents off of me. It was only fifteen minutes away from Hamilton’s house, and Jack was all too happy to tell me every single detail he could recall about Greenwich University, his alma mater.
The opulent campus was timeless. The sprawling manicured lawns were filled with lounging students wearing preppy designer clothes, even though classes didn’t start for another two weeks. I immediately felt out of place at this private university, but Jack proudly boasted how he always felt at home when visiting.
“Over here is the new Beauregard Business Building,” he said while pointing at a statue of...holy shit...himself. The bronze statue was tall and imposing.
“Whoa,” I said.
“You like? I made sure they shaved some of my stomach off. Didn’t want to be eternally fat, you know?” He chuckled at his joke and turned down another street. I didn’t even want to think about how much money you had to donate to have a new building named after you and get a statue erected in your honor.
“My wife and I first met outside the chemistry building. She wore a plaid skirt and was clutching a mountain of textbooks to her chest. She dropped them all, and I helped her carry them to her dorm,” Jack recalled with a secret grin. “She made me work for a first date but oh, it was worth it. When she died, I had her favorite park bench here moved to the gardens at our summer home.”
“I bet you miss her.”
“Every day,” Jack replied.
I chewed on my lip, not sure what to say. Jack continued his tour, pointing out sentimental spots while groaning about changes to the campus. He was a traditionalist and made it obvious how much he hated the new buildings being built—aside from the one named after him, of course.
“So, you want a degree in social work, yes? What exactly do you want to do?” Jack asked.
“I want to be a child welfare specialist,” I replied while looking out the window.
“What made you want to do