The Mentor (Necessary Lies Book 1) Read Free

country before, unless you counted a trip to Niagara Falls with my freshman class in which we briefly crossed over into Canada, I think mostly for the benefits of the “normals” at Choate, kids like me who didn’t go globetrotting every summer break. As I threw every decent outfit I had into my suitcase, my mind raced with all the possibilities. Not only was I getting to leave school for almost an entire week, but I was doing it with my dad. It was something I saw other kids do all the time. I’d envied them, even though most of them would roll their eyes anytime their parents came near them. If only they knew how lucky they were.
    I finally stuffed my suitcase to its breaking point; I’d had to sit on it to make it zip closed. I glanced in the mirror above my dresser. My skin was flushed, my long brown hair a wild mane of curls and waves. It was the first time I noticed that I was at least half pretty. I’d mostly avoided mirrors since puberty when my body began to betray me. But now it seemed most things had caught up to one another and I had to admit, I didn’t look half bad. Maybe I’d meet a cute foreign boy and have my first make out session. Who knew what awaited me?
    When I walked outside my dorm to meet up with my father, I awkwardly lugged my overstuffed luggage behind me. I noticed kids were gathered outside staring at something. I looked around to see what fuss was about.
    I heard it before I saw it. I thought it was the sound of a plane at first, but it was too loud for that; whatever it was, was closer than any plane could be. The trees around Memorial Hall whipped around in a frenzy. My father was waving to me with both arms in the middle of the green field in front of Memorial, a gigantic smile on his face.
    “Is that a fucking helicopter?” A boy a few feet away from me asked his friend. “Someone’s getting picked up in a heli?”
    I looked up, and sure enough there was a helicopter landing in the middle of the lawn in front of my dorm. For a moment, I wondered who it was for. But as my father continued to wave to me and yell out my name, it suddenly dawned on me.
    The helicopter was for me.
    “Holy hell,” I muttered, somehow making my legs move forward toward the waiting chopper. “My father brought in a helicopter.”
    “You mean that’s for you?” A girl I recognized from my English Honors class was standing next to me. She was one of the intimidating ones- her mother was a famous television actress and her father owned an NFL team. She’d never spoken or acknowledged me, even having been in at least three or four of my classes over the years.
    “Yep,” I said, trying to sound cavalier and bored with the whole thing. “My dad’s here for the weekend. We’re flying to Europe.” I had no idea if this was true yet, but what did it matter?
    “Wow,” she said, clearly impressed. “I had no idea. Have fun.”
    “Sure,” I said, walking past her toward my adventure. “I always do.”
     
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    “Since when do you own a helicopter?” I asked when we finally landed in New York. It had been almost impossible to talk in the “heli,” even with headphones. It was loud and I was still speechless and in awe that I’d just been picked up in front of the entire school in a Bell 430.
    “I don’t,” Dad said. “The firm uses it sometimes. But I was owed a favor and I wanted you to make a grand exit.” He looked at me, serious for a moment. “I know sometimes that kind of thing can help at a school like Choate.”
    That’s what I loved about my father. He knew a lot about how the world worked, even without me having to tell him. Most parents were so clueless.
    “It was pretty cool,” I said. “Where to now?”
    “Austria,” he said. Nothing else. He walked ahead of me, leaving me to ponder what was next.
     
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    A couple hours later we were gliding above the Atlantic Ocean in a Gulfstream jet, my father punching the keys on his laptop as I sat next to the