The Rules of Engagement (Mercer #2)

RoE Chapter Three

“Hey Miss!” someone else called while I concentrated on getting through the simple task of taking roll call.  “What you got hidin’ underneath all those layers?  Bet that’s one fine ass you’re coverin’ up.”

I rolled my eyes internally.

“Damn, whores be dressing nice these days,” another yelled.

“Carlos Vega,” I called, almost at the bottom of the list.  As per normal, I didn’t find it hard to dismiss the hooting laughter and shouted obscenities.

The class generally quieted down once I’d finished marking their names off, more content to start their own conversations or doodle for the entire fifty minutes they were subjected to my teaching.

“I didn’t know Justice Montoya went for skinny white bitches.”

I froze halfway through saying ‘Cisqo Ward’ and my eyes snapped up, so wide they immediately started to sting.  I blinked, trying to locate where that comment had come from.  It was on the tip of my tongue to snap out some acerbic retort but I managed to bite it back.  A stab of anger hit me like a hot poker in the chest, accompanied by a painful ache at the mention of Justice.

“Cisqo Ward,” I repeated through clenched teeth, and saw one of the CBK boys jerk his chin in acknowledgement.  His dark eyes were narrowed in the direction of the TLF, and an uneasy feeling went through me.  Strangely enough, I was starting to wonder if today wouldn’t be as uneventful as every other day.

Across the room, one of the TLF boys, Andre, clapped his hands together and gave me a malicious grin.  He’d caught my initial startled reaction and was preparing to go down that road.

“Man, what did he see in someone like you?” Andre sneered, slouching leisurely in his seat.

Ignore it, I chanted in my head, snapping the roll book closed and tossing it onto my desk.

In my peripheral, I could see both CBK boys sitting up a little straighter, their shoulders tensing.

“Okay,” I said, folding my arms over my chest, forcing a calmness into my tone I didn‘t feel.  “At the beginning of last week we discussed the main themes of Hamlet, and I -”

“Not much,” Ricardo, TLF asshole number two said, picking up where Andre left off.  “But then, Montoya can’t have been all he was talked up to be, right?  ‘Cause, well, if he was as badass as I’ve heard, he wouldn’t be dead.”

“- assigned you a 1000 word essay, which some of you handed in on time to be marked.”  My fingers tightened convulsively around my biceps, and I could hear my heart speed up in my chest.  

Keep it together, damn it.  The last thing I needed was to lose my cool and snap in front of the entire class.  “I’ve got your papers here, you can collect them after -”

“Yeah, and it’s no wonder he died.  Pendejo was brought down by you, right Miss Mercer?”

Andre’s eyes were practically glowing with victory, his grin inviting me to fight back.  To scream at him, deny it all.  Something.  My head and ears were buzzing with the effort it took not to respond.  My hands had grown clammy, and I had to take a deep breath before I spoke again.

“Andre, Ricardo, if you have nothing relevant to say, then keep quiet.  As for the rest of you, get out your copies of Hamlet.  Today we’re going to decipher -”

“How does that make you feel, puta?”  Andre continued relentlessly.  “Knowin’ you killed him?  Might as well have pulled the trigger yourself, huh.”

Before I could say anything stupid like, “Fuck you, he’s not actually dead.”, Vargas from the newcomer gang turned around in his seat, curiosity obviously having got the better of him.  “I thought it was your people who took Montoya out.”