Scandalous Arrangement

BOOK: Scandalous Arrangement
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Scandalous
Arrangement

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mia Grandy

© 2013 Mia Grandy

 

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form electronically, mechanically, by imagery, scanning, or any other means of distribution. Very brief quotes in reviews or articles are permissible.

Table of Contents

 

 

Chapter 1
: Southern Memorial University

 

Chapter 2
:
Moving In

 

Chapter 3
:
Mr. Daniel Tenley

 

Chapter 4
:
It’s all out

 

Chapter 5
:
It has begun

 

Chapter 6
:
Time for something new

 

Chapter 7
:
Something is a little off

 

Chapter 8
:
It’s time to go

 

 

Chapter 1

Southern Memorial University

As
I sat on the couch in the waiting room I began to think about how my life will be now that I have left home to attend college. My mother never had the chance to pursue her education past high school. Guess you can say she didn’t need to. Some of us use what we have to get what we want in life. My mother is a thing of beauty, that’s where I get my great looks from. She was the type to get by on her looks and she did it quite well. We are similar in height and build, and since I am in my prime, gravity is still on my side.

I filled out in early high school. I was curvier, bustier, and more confident than my counterparts.
She taught me all I needed to know about getting what I want out of this life. She would say “some of us are just blessed with better looks and charm than others, so we might as well use it to our advantage.” My mother always looked like a Barbie doll and she made sure I did to. It was one thing to be a blue eyed blond beauty, but a totally different thing to be half white half black with hazel eyes and curly hair. There was no comparison, I always did and always will stand out.

 

The difference between me and every other young woman is that they try to look good, it comes naturally for me. My mother would always say “always put your best foot forward, let confidence flow from you, and own every opportunity to be the center of attention.” Her advice hasn’t led me astray yet.

“Julie Pierce” called the housing assistant “here I am”. I was next in line to get my room and board in order to attend Southern M
emorial University this fall. Where I come from most single parent families, don’t have any money saved up for their kids to attend college. I knew I was going to live off of student loans and whatever job I could get. I talked to enough people to understand how “the system” works. If you work it just right you can get all kind of incentives from the government. I had a long list of things to take care of before the week was up. This was my first stop, up next was financial aid. So I went in to speak with the counselor about my options for on campus housing. It looks as though I was able to get a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom apartment.

They would pair me with the next availa
ble person who was looking for 2 bedroom accommodations, unless I had a specific person in mind to room with. Since I was sort of a “party of 1” kind of girl, I felt better with just being paired up with a stranger. Who knows maybe my charm and confidence will rub off on her?

 

There were 15 apartment buildings on the east side of campus; my dwelling was on the 3 floor of a 3 story building. Just my luck, there weren’t any elevators, just stairs. Well I guess it’s better than being on the 1
st
and 2
nd
floor and hearing the noise above you. This just means that I am going to have to find some strong guys to help me unload my things. I had until next week to move in and get settled, class starts the following Monday.

I arrived at the financial aid building with the help of the
P.A.W.S; they were student helpers there to assist incoming freshmen. I got a few weird looks and glances from other girls as I walked to my destination. That was something I was used to, what can I say I turn heads everywhere I go. The waiting room wasn’t that packed. I took a ticket from the take a number counter and sat by the window. I noticed that I was number 43, they were on number 37. I had a small wait ahead of me, so I whipped out my phone to check my messages. My mom sent me a message asking me how it was all going.

One of my guy friends left me a voicemail letting me know that he was
registering for his classes. I mostly had male friends; they were less drama and were great when I needed some muscle around to help with odd and ends. A few of the guys I chilled with were going to S.M.U to. So it would be just like old times with my typical crew. My buddy Mike was a ladies’ man, he sent me a few pictures of some random girls he took pictures with while touring the campus. I didn’t expect anything less from my guys; they were real characters. I replied to my messages and told everybody where to meet for lunch.

I checked the number counter I was up next. I gathered up my
things and waited until my number was called. Funny enough patience was a virtue that I did have. My mom used to say, just sit back and wait for all the good things you desire will come to you. I took what she said and added on to it. Yes good things come to those who wait, but greater things come to those who go out and take them. Acquiring what I wanted and living my life to the fullest was my top priority. I mean I only had one life to live so I might as well do what I want, when I want, and get everything I desire no matter what.

A very handsome man walked out of the cou
nselor’s area and called my number. I stood up and said, “Right here”. The look on his face was priceless. He looked at me like I was a pink unicorn floating from the sky. I walked over to him and said “so, I am next right”; he stumbled over his words a bit and said “yes, umm come on back to my cubicle.” As I walked in front of him, I felt him staring at the only thing guys could stare at as I walked in front of them…my voluptuous derrière.

It was a show stopper indeed. Many men have tried to cop a feel, and have failed.
You only get that close when an invitation has been extended. The counselor walked past me to show me to his cubicle. I noticed his name on the cubicle wall; Mr. Charles Johnson senior financial aid counselor. He sat down in front of me and smiled. I gave him a rundown of what I had researched and what I thought I would need money-wise to last me a year.

I
told him I filled out the proper financial aid forms online and that they were waiting for me to speak with a counselor to send the money to that particular school. He told me how impressed he was with me being on top of my game. I told him I like to be in control over what’s happening in my life and to make sure things run as smooth as they can at all times. There was an awkward silence for a minute, and then he cleared his throat and said “well let me check the system and see when your money will arrive.”

I gave him my student id number, which was given to me when I got
my acceptance letter. Mr. Johnson told me that my award money will be in this Thursday. I thought to myself that is perfect timing, I can get all the stuff I need for my apartment and get settled in quicker. I asked him would I have enough money to cover housing, books, tuition, food, etc. He said that I would have to take out a loan to cover my books and part of my housing. I figured he would say something along the lines of taking out a loan. When I get a night job it will cover my other expenses and the loan will pay for anything else I needed. I told Mr. Johnson thanks for everything and that I will be in touch if I need further assistance with financial aid. He shook my hand and I went on my way to the registrar’s office to resister for my classes.

 

I took a map out of the financial aid waiting area to find the registrar’s office. Funny thing was it was 2 floors down, good thing too; I didn’t want to endure the blistering heat at that particular time. It was 95 degrees outside, and the humidity was a bit elevated. Living in the south had its ups and downs. The winters were more tolerable and the price of living was lower. The cons were the heat, mosquitoes, and worst of all humidity. I often thought about moving to a remote island where the weather was always perfect and I could relax and look good all day.

I arrive
d to register for my classes and as luck would have it there was no waiting line. I walked in and the lady behind the counter asked me what she could do for me. I pulled out the piece of paper that I printed off with the classes I needed as an incoming freshman. I was taking 12 credit hours which meant I had a full load. I knew I needed to take 12 credit hours in order to get financial assistance. The classes were mostly fluff, meaning I didn’t have to try hard to pass. The lady told me that every incoming freshman has to take economics, I hated economics. So she switched around my schedule and took away my intro to history to add economics. I guess the reason I hated that subject was because I didn’t care about the business side of money, I just wanted to spend it.

 

I grabbed my newly revised schedule and headed out the door. The lady tells me that I should locate all the buildings where my classes are held now, so when class starts on Monday I won’t be a wondering fool. I told her thanks for the tip; I will take her up on that. My classes were somewhat located together. No more than 5 minutes apart and no more than 10 minutes from my dorm room. My earliest class started at 8am and my last class was at 3pm Monday-Friday. Seemed like the perfect schedule to me. All this walking around made me hungry so I called my guys so we could go eat. I called up Mike and Jack to see where they were and if we could get together within the next 5 minutes. We met in the student center; it had a few options of foods to choose from. Asian, American, Mexican and Italian food stations, I choose American just so I could get a burger and fries.

Whenever I was with my guys I never paid. We sat down to enjoy our lunch and I told them to help me move out of my moms’
house into my apartment
.
I
also told them about my plan to get food stamps so we can all eat well, or sell the food stamps for cash. The thought of me getting food stamps was funny to them. I didn’t care how funny it sounded, I knew they wouldn’t complain when they were eating all kinds of fancy foods at my apartment.

Chapter 2

Moving In

I found
out that I qualified for $150 a month in food stamps, because I was a student living on my own and not depending on my mother for financial assistance. That’s money that I didn’t have before and I know it will come in handy right when I need it. I will be getting a food stamp card in the mail in 2 weeks. Next up on my list is to apply for a night job. I needed to gas up my car on the way into town. My car wasn’t your usual 20 year old mode of transportation. I had a male friend about a year ago that “wanted” to give me a nice car and clothes. He just wanted me to be his “eye candy” over the course of the year for his corporate functions. He was a very interesting man, we both got what we needed out of the relationship.  I walked away with a 2013 Lexus IS convertible, candy apple red, leather interior, fully loaded, and all the designer shoes and clothes a girl could use while in season.

 

My first stop was at a local bar, they were hiring for hostesses and bartenders. I went in to apply for a hostess job, something easy and stress free. I spoke with the manager and he said I would do ok as a hostess, but I would do a hell of a lot better as a bartender. He said I had the face and the personality to get tips. I informed him that I only had a small amount of drink mixing experience. He told me that it didn’t matter because someone would train me; and not to worry about my age no one would know that I was under 21. That was all I needed to hear, I got the job on the spot. I will be starting tomorrow night. Training with a guy named Henry Davis. He was an expert at bartending; he has worked there for over 8 years. 8 years is a long time to be at one job, he either loved it or he made great money doing it. I prefer to be in the latter category, I love money, not being stagnant. I hate to admit it but there really is a first time for everything. I needed to call my mom to tell her the great news.

 

I spoke with my mom about all the recent events that had occurred today. I told her that I would be home later today to gather all of my things so that I could move into my on campus apartment. She told me she was very excited and proud of me. My mom lived about 45 minutes from the university. Her name is Joan; she had me when she was 19. She never married my dad; she felt she was too young for all that seriousness. I can’t blame her; I wouldn’t have gotten married that young either. From that moment on she was able to talk to guys and get exactly what we needed, not only to survive but to flourish. We stayed in the trendiest clothes and cars all throughout my childhood and even until now. Even now my mom is still living the fabulous “single” life.

 

I arrived at my moms’ house to gather my things with the help of my guys. Thankfully I had my guys to rely on because I had so many things that I needed to pack. We got everything packed up within 3 hours. They put it all in their trucks and, I said my goodbyes to my mom and headed off to school for my 1
st
semester. It wasn’t like my mom had to travel far to see me, but she did understand that I needed my space to live my life now. She was always respectful like that.

 

I told my guys to drive cautiously because they were carrying expensive cargo. We got to my apartment and the guys began to unload my stuff and haul it all upstairs. The entire time I was getting jokes about why do I have some many shoes and handbags. Guys will never understand women and our need for great fashionable accessories. My roommate was actually there and we got a chance to meet for the 1
st
time.

 

Of course I took a visual evaluation of her and I noticed that she was a brunette with shoulder length hair, tall in height, small busted, thin and acne prone; the average girl from next door. At first glance she lacked confidence and style. She walked over to shake my hand and of course she gives me the preppy hand shake, the kind of hand shake that symbolizes when another woman doesn’t want to touch your hand. Being the confident and bold woman that I am I shook her hand strong, showing her the authority I had over her; just by shaking her hand. She pulled her hand back and rubbed it as if I hurt it. She gave off a smirk and introduced herself. Her name was Tiffany Harrison; she was 20 years old as well. I told her that I too was 20; I took a little time off between graduating high school and coming to college. She was a theater major and she seemed nice enough.

 

She showed me her side of the apartment and some of her things. This girl really needed some fashion advice in the right direction. She seemed like the girl who just tried to fit in. There is nothing wrong with just fitting it as long as you have your own style, which was something she obviously lacked. I said that I would catch up with her later. I got all my stuff moved in and now it was time to unpack and organize. I had more things in my possession than I realized and it was going to take me a few hours to really unpack. I decided it was better to go and get supplies and a few grocery items and unpack later tonight. I went to the local grocery store to grab my feminine hygiene products and a few freezer dinners and snacks. I headed back to my apartment to continue unpacking. Fortunately I have the weekend to get everything in order.

I turned on my radio so that I could jam my favorite R&B tracks
. I am always listening to music; the soothing sounds of jazz and the descriptive words of true R&B; puts me in the right frame of mind every time. I finished unpacking about 3 hours later, I kept starting and stopping but I did get everything in a specific spot. Now my mind was at ease enough to go to sleep.

 

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