Island Rush (Sample)

Chapter 1

I refused to get another detention. I worked too hard all school year to earn the money back I had to pay to go. If I get another detention, all that hard work would be lost considering we already paid the school. There were no refunds. Plus, it was only a week away as the end of school neared.

"You can have it back at the end of today, Janice," Mr. Rush sighed as he put my phone on his desk.

He went back to the lesson he was teaching. I sighed, eyeing my phone with trembling worry. He didn't understand. Nobody did, and I gave nobody the chance to either. He didn't know how important it was to obey my dad. He didn't know that it was him I was texting.

I pretended to listen like I always did. As usual, my mind was elsewhere. Like how was I supposed to convince my boss to give me a raise? I was stupid for deciding to go to the Bahamas with the juniors. But at the time, I didn't know I would need the money for something else now. Compared to the price for the Bahamas, it would take a lot more money to bail my brother out of jail. A raise wouldn't get me close to the amount I needed for my brother, but it would help.

At the end of the day, I walked to Mr. Rush's classroom down the nearly empty hall. I opened the big wooden door and entered. He sat, looking dazed, which was shocking for a jerk like him. He was a very serious teacher after all. Always so strict, never really social, never joking or showing many feelings. However, he was tense in his chair and appeared worried. I stared for a moment, taking in the sight. I didn't think he had it in him to feel worried.

When he finally noticed I was there, he jumped up and seemed even guilty. His eyes locked on mine, and he was breathing hard. It was so unlike him. I mean, this is the kind of dude who knew everything before it happened, having planned everything. Often, he just looked bored. Strangely now, though, he was surprised with a face full of emotions.

He didn't look annoyed or mad at me. He usually is when I came after school to his room. Not to mention, this was the first time he caught me texting. Usually, I would just talk back in class. I accomplished both today.

After that dazed expression had calmed slightly, he grabbed my phone and moved around his desk. He didn't waste time when he approached me with averted eyes.

"What's with you?" I asked, taking my phone back.

"Nothing," he replied. "I-I just realized I'm late for something."

Wow, he actually stuttered. I knew he was lying. He just wanted to be away from me. That much was clear so I didn't waste time. I quickly turned away from him and left, not wanting to be anywhere near him.

I reluctantly left and headed home to a dirty house as usual. Plates were piled high in the kitchen and on the glass coffee table. Dust drenched over everything. The floor was cluttered with clothes, shoes, and empty bottles. I saw, thankfully, my dad was passed out on the couch, drunk. It was great for me; I didn't need to face him. I headed to my room and threw my bag of textbooks on the floor like I always did after school. It wouldn't be acknowledged until tomorrow morning.

After just laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, I heard my door open. It was a sound alone sent chills through my body. I knew who it was. Who else lived here? I wasn't looking forward to this encounter in the least. When I moved and jumped to my feet, there my father stood.

His hair stood up straight on the side where his head had been pressed against the couch pillow. The rest of his graying hair was in knots. His cheeks and below his nose were full of little gray hairs. What caught my attention about him was his brown eyes and big feet that couldn't focus where they were heading. Which is how he ended up on my floor.