Chapter Twenty.

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Darien tapped his pencil against his history test, trying to figure out the answer to the last question. Who cares about who was the third emperor of Year of the Five Emperors in old Rome? That's in the past and Darien doesn't really care about who it was. But he picked an answer anyways.

After a tortious twenty five minute, he finally finished his test and got up from desk and walked over to Mr. Beckett and handed it to him. Mr. Beckett threw a chip in his month and took the test, "Thank you, Darien. I'll grade it later. Pull a chair up.".

Damnit, Lena, he thought when he grabbed a chair and sat in front of Mr. Beckett desk. "So, uh, a friend said I should talk to you. You said you would know how I--am. You were a badass--my bad--in your days.".

"Yeah, I was pretty rebellious in my youth. Most of my childhood and teen years were back in California.", he said.

"California, how'd you end up all the way here in Vermont?", he asked.

He smiled, "A women was there in training, she was in the Military. She surprised me cause not much women were in the military , women just began to join, but I was impressed by her independence and how free spirited she was. She talked me out of the street and to join the military. Two years after, been together for the last twenty years.", he said and he unbutton his sleeve collar and rolled his sleeve up--his arms covered in tattoo's, "Didn't expect me to have this much, huh?", he questioned, a grin on his face. "I've been getting tattoo since I was fifteen years old and got addicted to the needle. Do you have any, Darien?".

Darien rubbed the back of his neck, "Uh, yeah. Mine and my mother zodiac sign on my chest and swirl lines going down my rib cage.".

"Those hurt like hell, on your rib cage.", he said.

Darien raised his eyebrows and chuckle, "Mr. Beckett, language.".

"School hours are over, Darien.", he said, leaning back in his chair. "Call me Ric.".

"Ric?", he tried it out. "It's weird calling my teacher by his first name.".

He shrugged, "Whatever you feel comfortable with. But anyways, yeah, I did everything while growing up. Steal, did drugs and sold them, drank until I blacked out, street fights, get pointless tattoos, and didn't take shit from anyone. I almost even got in a couple of gangs.".

"Why you do all of that?", he asked.

He sighed and bit his lip, "I never knew my father and my mom, she got around. She was only sixteen when she had me and my grandparent took care of me, but I was always angry when my mom would come home and leave me again. She abandoned me a lot and the old me, I hated her. I hated her so much. I just grew even more angrier when I was thirteen when my mom overdosed on cocaine in front of me and died.".

"Oh shit.", Darien said and almost apologized, not needing to hear it from a teacher, but remember what he said. "My mom. . . she also died, in a car crash with my father. I was passed through relative to relative cause I was...I was just bad and they didn't want me.".

"I can see how that'll make you angry.", he said.

"My father was an asshole.", he said. "He beat us both and he was always drunk. He was drunk that night.". He rubbed his hand over his lips and sighed, "I always wonder. . .where did that leave me with? I had nothing after they left, an orphan nobody wants.".

"Of course there is always somebody who wants someone. Someone wants you, Darien, your just blind right now.", he said. "And your past, it only makes your stronger.".

"Sounds like something my old therapist would say.", he said. "The only one who try to deal with me is my cousin Ash, he's who I'm living with right now. He tries to my friend, but I can see how much I am to handle with him.".

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