There were four gated communities in Shaleport: Peur, Blesse, Haine and the biggest, Honte. Their roads met in Aviax Centrale, a gated city complex complete with prestigious primary and secondary school, luxury mall, garden plaza and records office. It was there that the richest of the rich rubbed elbows in the day and night, when they visited the Arrow Club and had their existential conversations over $3000 champagne.
Honte was the biggest of the four, a sprawling, three three hundred hectare gated village that housed six multi-million dollar mansions, a country club, and an exclusive six-star guest mansion. It also housed the richest people in Aviax.
This village is where I grew up.
But I wasn't biologically born to any of the families in Honte. My aunt Emma and her husband, Tomas Theroux took me in and raised me as their own. Since they couldn't have any children of their own, they considered me theirs and loved me like I was their own daughter.
Even if a rich family raised me, the other residents weren't as nice. The staunch traditionalist wives looked down on me because to them, I was an outsider. They would push their kids to avoid me like the plague. Ironically, I became best friends with one of those kids. Ava Faust and I had to keep our friendship secret from her mom, but things changed in middle school when Ava's mom died. After that, we became the best of friends. But the bad blood never died... they may have respected my adoptive parents, but they continued to hate me.
This is why I hated going home, and relished the idea of going to college outside Aviax. New York University was my ticket away from all the things that had tormented me growing up. It was only about three hours away from Shaleport, but it was far enough for me. I worked my hardest just to get in, and cried for days when I found out I had been accepted at NYU, my dream school. Emma and Tomas were awfully tolerant of me during the early months, driving out just to celebrate holidays away from the rest of the neighborhood: opening presents in hotel rooms in Manhattan and B&Bs in California. This time, though, I didn't have much of a choice.
Emma and Tomas lived in Luxenhouse: an elaborate home designed like a Tuscan villa. It had three floors and a museum that housed priceless cubist pieces that Emma collected on her travels. Growing up, it was the perfect escape from all the hate I had to go through.
"Natalie Jane Abernathy..."
Aunt Emma stood on the top step of the porch, her arms folded. Dressed in a bright orange sundress, a cream cardigan and a pair of classic pointed shoes, she looked like a walking carrot with hair.
The moment I got out of the car, I knew she was glaring at the torn green shorts I had chosen to wear on my trip back.
"So I forgot to change,"
"Clearly, you haven't been shopping."
"I don't have time."
"You've been to London twice, you could've at least bought something decent there!"
"Relaaaax I have my summer shorts ready."
"At least you haven't got fat."
"AUNT EMMA!"
She shushed me with a tight hug. "I'm glad you're home."
That was all I needed.
We had lunch and tea in the garden while catching up on all that had happened when I was gone. It was the usual: the parents were miserable because their kids were in school, so they held endless champagne parties in the central mansion, blabbering on and on about their 'glory days'. James Sorrel had managed to settle another maid harassment case, Anderson and Rachel Evermore paraded around the neighborhood with their perfect marriage. Bella Santorini made all the older, flabbier women jealous by deciding to jog around the circle every morning with nothing on except a long, skintight tennis dress.
"She's married for Christ's sake! What kind of a wife does that?" Emma cried. "I sometimes wonder how Gee—is it Gui or Gee? Oh gosh... I never get this right!"
"Giuseppe, Aunt Emma. Giuseppe Santorini."
"Yes, him! He's awfully tolerant, you know. I guess it must be some culture thing."
"Maybe it is."
"Oh, by the way before I forget..." Emma fished out a thick scented envelope from the drawer in the table behind us and handed it to me.
"And this is..."
"The annual summer invites," she answered. "Of course, you would know
about these if you actually went home for the summer."
I looked at her with an expression that said: 'I have my reasons'. She scowled, nodding. "Just open it."
Greetings, resident!
It's that time of the year again—when our children are home from school, the sun is shining and the water is cool for a great swim—Summer! This year, the Honte Ladies Club, in partnership with the Honte Mens Club, brings to the neighborhood a series of parties and events guaranteed to make your summer back home an experience you'll never forget!
We're starting off with Solarium, a short and suave cocktail party where we welcome back our fellow residents and their kids after their long, tedious months of schooling. This is set to be followed by one of the grandest events of the summer season—the Solstice Ball. Set to signal the start of the summer season, the grand party will be held at the Frigade ballroom of the Merkala Centrale, the evening after cocktails.
Event Details are provided below
Solarium
The annual welcome back cocktail party
June 10, 2013
Sorrel Home: 7 Paragon East, Honte subdivision, Shaleport, Aviax
Solstice
The grand summer opening party
June 11, 2013
Frigade ballroom, Merkala Centrale, Shaleport Drive, Shaleport
Sunset
The annual summer-end beachside party
August 27, 2013
Shaleport Harbor Country Club, Shaleport
Hoping for your attendance!
Catherine Grace Sorrel Honte Ladies Club, President
James Byron Sorrel Honte Mens Club, President
Warren Coddington Honte Ladies Club, patron
Jeffrey Duke Faust Honte Mens Club, patron
"Do we have to?"
"Well, What do you have to lose? They haven't seen you in two years, Natalie. It might be a pleasant surprise for some of them."
"I'm not counting on anything. Has Ava arrived yet?"
"You're her best friend... aren't you supposed to know that?"
"She was having exams the last time we talked, so I really don't know if she's even coming home."
Emma sighed. "Patrick Faust called to tell me she'll be back tomorrow morning. In time for the ball."
"Okay. I'm really tired right now, so is it okay if I..."
"Just promise me you'll go to this cocktail thing."
"I promise. Now can I get some sleep?"
"I'll wake you up when its time."
I ran straight to my bedroom and fell right asleep, forgetting that it had been two years since I saw the inside of my room. Yes, I was THAT tired.
YOU ARE READING
Honte
Short StoryNatalya 'Natalie' Jane Abernathy reluctantly returns to the picturesque village of Honte for the first time since she began her college years, expecting nothing more than unwanted reunions with Honte's not-so pleasant residents, and a relatively bor...
