Cell Mates

10|| When the Dust Settles

note: Sam's room in the making pictured above

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10

Since our little incident in the cafeteria I hadn't seen Connor at all. Thank God for life's small mercies. Somehow we managed to miss each other when it came to the service hours – I'd ducked home to shower and get fruit cup out of places fruit should never be, and he'd most likely stuck around to dust some mats in the gym, thus completely avoiding seeing one another for the entirety of that afternoon.

I'd taken a paint solvent from the custodian's closet and set out to the courtyard to remove the "offensive blemish on the fine face of our school" as Clark had put it earlier. I couldn't decide if she'd been talking about the tag or me. It certainly would take a lot more than a paint solvent to get rid of me though.

I sighed in frustration as the solvent barely scratched the surface. "Mrs. Clark" had started to fade but the remaining words in my witty message were just as apparent as when they'd been when I'd put them there. Dissolved paint streaked down the brick wall giving the words a creepy crawly script instead of the original block letters like something straight out of Goosebumps.

"I'm never getting this stupid thing off," I muttered looking sullenly at "can suck it". The image of Vic's smug face floated in my head and my hand started scrubbing furiously with the brush, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to fully regret it. I'd spent years pissing off Mrs. Clark and this wasn't really any different. Besides, the offense was minor and it wouldn't do much to my future to have a vandalism charge since I was still a minor. Despite all that I made sure never to rely on Vic for anything ever. Sure we'd been at a party a year ago and sure I'd been drinking and sure we could've gotten caught by the cops if it wasn't for her but...turned out it was just postponing the inevitable.

When I got in two hours later after the last of the words were mostly washed off and the brick's rust color was once against visible, I managed to slip by Jack easily enough and into my room.

By six o'clock I was quietly avoiding the pile of homework on my desk (which was in actuality a table from the room next to mine) and dozing on my bed when the door to my room burst open. It swung out with such force it hit the wall and bounced back, but I barley noticed. What caught my attention was a furious Connor standing a few feet into my room, shoulders hunched and eyebrows drawn.

"You have some real nerve," he started. "I don't give rat's ass that my uncle decided to take you in like a stray cat, but that doesn't mean I have to tolerate you. If you ever pull shit like what you did today again I'm going to make your life so miserable that you'll be opting to live next to the homeless guy down the street."

For a second I sat on the bed in stunned silence before I heaved a sarcastic laugh. "You think you scare me? Honestly, if either one of us can make good on threats it's me." I finally got off the bed and stalked towards him, the familiar anger that somehow managed to creep in whenever he was around started to churn in the pit of my stomach. "I don't want to be here any more than you want me here. It's not like I had a choice in the matter - "

"So why are you here? I don't think Mia would approve of you living with – what did you call me earlier? The ex-con?"

I made a face and glanced away from his inquiring gaze. There really wasn't any rational explanation to my living here.

Connor must have misinterpreted my silence because he asked in a much quieter voice, "She doesn't know, does she? You never told her."

"You'll keep your mouth shut about it if you know what's good for you."