Read Online Confessions of a Wild Child by Jackie Collins - Free Book Online

‘I never had no fancy private education. I was out bustin’ my ass to make a buck long before I was your age.’
    Yes, Daddy, I know. You’ve told me countless times.
    ‘You – kiddo – are getting’ everythin’ I never had. So whyn’t you shut the fuck up, an’ remember how fortunate you are.’
    Thanks, Daddy. What a lovely fatherly speech .
    ‘So here’s the deal,’ Gino mutters. ‘You’ll do as I say, an’ one of these days you’re gonna kiss my ass an’ thank me. Got it?’

Chapter Fourteen
     
    ‘N ew girl . . . new girl . . . new girl.’ Everywhere I go I hear the whispers. Yes, I am indeed the new girl – however, I do not fit the image of the other girls. Most of them are uptight white girls with hair neatly tied back, no make-up and pristine uniforms. I stand out with my wild black curls, deep olive skin, and touches of mascara and lip gloss. I have also adapted the school uniform to suit me. I have shortened the skirt, unbuttoned the blouse and abandoned the tie. A far better look.
    Within days I am summoned to the principal’s office, another tight-ass with major attitude.
    Here we go again , I think.
    Thanks, Gino , for sending me somewhere I hate .
    ‘We have an extremely strict dress code here,’ the principal, a woman with a vast expanse of forehead and large horse teeth, informs me. ‘And we certainly do not allow our girls to wear make-up.’
    ‘Lip gloss isn’t make-up,’ I object. ‘That’s stupid.’
    And for those few words I get detention, which is not all bad because detention takes place in an outer building, and directly outside the building I observe a young Mexican gardener doing his thing. Well, he’s not exactly doing his thing – that sounds rude – he’s actually sweeping up leaves and looking quite pissed off about it.
    Once I’ve written Lip gloss is make-up five hundred times, I make my way outside to maybe get acquainted with the gardener. I soon discover that his name is Lopez, that he works for his father, and he is twenty. He’s also major cute, with flashing eyes almost as dark as mine, extremely long eyelashes, and a dangerous scar running down his left cheek.
    I ask him how he got the scar. He tells me he was in a gang until his father whisked him out of the Bronx to the greenery and calmness of Connecticut.
    I am impressed, and slightly excited. We arrange to meet later, and he fills me in on the safest window to escape from.
    I like Lopez. He’s my kind of guy.
    Am I boy-crazy?
    A bit .
    Why not? It’s all part of growing up .
    Lopez and I enjoy three nights of unbridled lust (Almost still in play) until Miranda, a sour-faced girl with a righteous attitude who bunks in my dorm room, gives us up.
    Lopez is fired.
    I get detention.
    Here we go again.
    I realize the time has come to make a daring escape.
    Later that night I think things through. Where is Olympia? What is she up to?
    Once again she will be my salvation. I know it.
    *  *  *
     
    I think I have inherited my dad’s street smarts along with his looks. I do look just like him, only I’m taller. I enjoy being tall and lean, and it’s fortunate for me that I can pass for at least eighteen or nineteen, ’cause this makes my flight to freedom so much easier.
    Olympia comes through as usual. I track her down via phone to Paris where she is holed up in her father’s Avenue Foch apartment, taking a Russian language course which she informs me she hates. Thrilled to hear from me, she arranges to get me a plane ticket to France, then she has a male friend phone the school pretending to be Gino, saying there is a family emergency and that I have to leave immediately.
    Quite frankly I don’t think anyone is at all sorry to see me go, especially Miranda, who gives me a triumphant snarl of a smile and a fake – ‘Have fun at your next school. We’ll all really miss you here.’
    A typical mean girl. I wish her nothing but the worst.
    The plane ride to France is uneventful. Olympia is at