Everyone in life is dealt a hand of cards. The player can't control if they are dealt a good or bad hand but the player can control the outcome if they play their cards right. A bad hand doesn't automatically mean you lose, it just makes the game ha...
"Out. Also, don't talk to us, don't look at us, and definitely don't tell anybody we're your step brothers or we can make your life a living hell."
Darren and my aunt already took that spot but I'll let them know you're next in line.
I let the confusion show on my face but his glare was enough to make me get out. Now I was stranded on the side of the road looking like an idiot. Micheal only told me the name -Mountain Hills High School- but I had no idea had to get there. I walked behind the direction of their car before it was completely out of sight.
Well shit.
I kept walking straight, limping with each step until more and more cars passed by me. I finally reached my destination, cars filled the parking lot but was void of students. I must be late.
Maybe because I took 45 fucking minutes to walk here.
I walk in only to be welcomed by empty halls and a big ass sign labeled 'Main Office'. I walked in immediately greeted by an older looking woman, brown bangs swept across her face and grayish hairs scattered across her hair. She looks up from her computer with a smile on her face.
"How may I help you?"
"Hi, I'm new here. My name is Rayland Cook."
She quickly started typing on her computer, confusion flashes through her face. "There's no one enrolled with that name but there is a Rayland Brown."
Que estúpido cabrón, pinche pendejo, hijo de -
(Stupid bastard, fucking asshole, son of-)
"Yeah that's me." I forcefully smiled. She typed more on the computer until grabbing a piece of paper and handing it to me.
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What idiota signed me up for art, I haven't done it since-
"Are you alright?" She looked at me with concerned eyes.
"Yup, can you tell me where the science lab is?"
Playing Poker
You can do this, you can do this, you can do this.
I twisted the door handle open after five minutes of searching for this classroom. I was already late to the class because my dumb stepbrothers decided to drop me off which turned a 7 minute car ride into a 45 minute walk.
I step into the classroom, all eyes cast to me immediately. A younger looking man looked at me and down at a piece of paper on his desk.
"Name please?" He stated not looking up from his paper.
"Rayland."
"Last name?"
"Co- Brown." I mumbled making sure no one else heard me.
"Any relation to the Brown brothers?" I quickly shook my head no. I wasn't lying, we're not related.
"Age?"
"Would you like my social security number too?"
Stifled laughs filled the class while the teacher playfully glared at me.
"Sorry, 14."
"Take a seat next to Myles, please." He pointed to a tanned skin boy with black rimmed glasses and jet black hair covering half of his face. A gold chain dangled over the white shirt he was wearing. He glanced up at me, rolled his eyes, and started doodling on his worksheet.
I walked over to the seat next to him realizing I had no idea what we were doing.
"Hey, what are we doing?" I asked politely. He ignored me and continued doodling. I asked again louder thinking he didn't hear me. "Fuck off." He spat loud enough for the whole class to hear.
"Principal's office, Mr. Jones." He huffed and puffed before storming out, not forgetting to glare at me on his way out.
Well fuck you too.
I went to my next class and when that ended it was lunch time. I had no idea where the cafeteria was in this big ass school so I kept wandering around until I heard loud yells coming from around the corner. Curiosity getting the best of me, I let the chants guide me leading me to a fight. It wasn't really a fight though because there was a guy on the floor getting his ass beat by an older looking boy. He was beating up someone that looked at least a year younger than him.
Curiosity killed the cat.
But satisfaction brought it back.
I turned my attention to the battered looking boy on the ground begging for the older boy to leave him alone, which brought back too many bad memories. I remember wanting someone to help me, but nobody ever did. Before I could stop myself, I pushed through the crowd. I heard my name being called by none other than Jaxon. I got closer and stared at the scene.
Why can't you ever mind your own business nosy bitch?
The older boy was about to land another punch but I grabbed the back of his arm, preventing him from hitting the blonde boy on the floor. Well, he didn't end up hitting the boy, but when I grabbed his arm, he was swinging it back further, attempting to get out of my grip. This only resulted in him successfully hitting me in the nose with his elbow. He turned around, probably to see who had the audacity to stop him from hitting the boy.
Once our eyes connected, it was like time froze. His gray eyes captivated my attention. Those once lively eyes looked dull; dead.
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