The Legend of Ronnie Valentine

The Second Day of Ronnie Valentine

I was awoken the next morning by Pete yelling furiously from the living room. I sat up, trying to make out the words.

"...ridiculous! He's already gotten away with murder, and now the scumbag has the nerve to claim HE's the one in danger!" I heard Lisa say something in response before he replied, a little more calmly. "He claims someone broke into his apartment last night. Conveniently he's too traumatised to identify them, but now the judge has placed him into protective custody. Bastard would've been perfectly safe in a prison cell..."

I sighed. It was officially over. My reckless impulsivity had meant that Russell Adamson had gotten away scot-free. My inner monologue gave a series of slow sarcastic claps.

Well done.

I groaned and started to get dressed for college. I hoped I'd be able to avoid Pete before I left; after hearing his response to the news, I didn't want to risk revealing it was my fault. I lowered the door handle as slowly as I could...

"Jay?" I cursed under my breath.

"Yeah?" Pete came into the hallway.

"Are you feeling okay? You sounded pretty sick last night. Where did you go?" I hesitated.

"Some of the guys from college wanted to check out that new fried chicken place in town."

"Oh yeah, I'd heard that was opening up. How was it? Actually, I can probably guess." He put his hand on my shoulder. "You sure you're okay? You probably heard the news." I nodded slowly.

"I did. It hurt, but I'm not gonna let this beat me. The justice system may have failed my mum, but I sure as hell won't. As long as I live my life the way mum would've wanted me to, Adamson's not won." Pete beamed with pride, before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.

"You're definitely Julie's son alright. Come on, I'll give you a lift into college."

I glanced up at the clock and groaned. Today was my chemistry practical exam, but because I'd been absent for the last two weeks (despite my insistences I was fine, the doctors had demanded I stay home) I hadn't been kept up to date with the course so I didn't have the faintest clue what the exam would entail. I could only pray that my lab partner was someone with half a brain.

"Abbie, Jenna." The professor called out, reading from his clipboard. "Danny, Ben. Lizzy, Hayley. Jason, Todd." I bit my lip so as to mask my grunt of frustration. Todd was the class clown who was funny only to himself. Still, I could probably scrape through this if he kept his mouth shut and let me do all the work.

"Todd, what was the last reading? I think we've gone wrong somewhere." No answer. "Todd? The reading?" Nothing. I glanced up, only to find my partner was more interested in flirting with Hayley on the next table. I slammed my notepad on the desk. "For god's sake Todd, are you actually gonna do any work or do I have to try to pull this off myself?" He grinned idiotically.

"That's what I said to your mum last night!" He replied, before falling into hysterics of laughter. Hayley nudged him roughly.

"That's not funny, Todd. You know his mum died two weeks ago."

"Yeah? I thought she was a bit quiet." I gripped the table tightly, my knuckles turning white.

End him. I stepped closer, so we were toe to toe.

"You'd better shut your mouth, before I shut it for you." I hissed quietly. Almost instantly I began to internally panic. I'd never actually been in a fight before, and my encounter with Russell had shown me I was no good with confrontation at the best of times.

"And what if I don't, Roberts?" He sneered, shoving me back. "What are you gonna do? Tell your mum?"

For god's sake, if you want something doing... I swung my fist back and hit Todd as hard as I could in the face, his nose making a very satisfying crunch as it broke. I couldn't celebrate for too long though, as I realised he was still conscious and very angry by this point. As he raised his fist I couldn't help but grin. Jay's teenage years of video game addiction had honed his reflexes to perfection, so I was able to duck under each punch as if it were coming in slow motion.