CHARACTER VIEWS DO NOT REPRESENT MY OWN. Please be civil in the comment section.
After two challenging hours, Joe loosened his tie and wiped the whiteboard. "Mock exams are in two weeks. You'd be wise to start revising if you haven't already. If you need any extra help, stay behind..." the bell rang jarringly, marking the end of class. Joe collapsed in his chair, rubbing his temples and muttered to himself about how no-one was listening to him anymore.
I pushed my chair under the desk and was about to sling my backpack on my shoulders when Ivy shoved into me, elbow stabbing into my ribs. "Oops!" she tittered. "I'm so clumsy."
I was going to let it go until Rachel barged into me, also, and chortled. "I feel clumsy, too." Her other two friends cackled. Rachel stared at me defiantly, daring me to retaliate, smug smirk on cracked lips. Ivy was out of harm's way, at the door and looking back at the scene, mouth breaking into a crafty grin.
I set my backpack down, clicked my tongue irritably and promptly backhanded her a little too sharply. The blow stopped students in their tracks. Joe looked up, alarmed and then infuriated. "Miss. Canon!" Surnames were reserved for the troublemakers and moments of anger so I knew I was in a deep, stinking pile of shit.
Rachel gasped, hand on her cheek, wide eyed, stunned. "You...you white trash bitch!"
Yolande, a student, remarked coolly. "She's not white."
Ivy let slip a bubble of laughter and then quickly gathered herself, yelling in false outrage. "Did you see that?"
Joe had sprung up from his chair. His face was red as if he'd scrubbed hard and his shoulders were tensed. He pointed a finger at me and exploded. "I've given you far too many chances–"
"That's unfair." Yolande interrupted. Ivy icily glared at her but she continued, unfazed. "Rachel and Ivy hit her first. You only seem to notice when new girl responds."
"Exactly what are you implying?" Joe was struggling to contain his anger. He turned to Yolande with a harsh glower. The class seemed to hold their breath, darting eyes to Joe and then back to Yolande. The insinuation was scandalous and juicy enough for gossip to ruin a career. Joe's career.
"I'm not implying, merely suggesting–"
"You're a liar." Ivy spat.
A boy from the back called out. "Get the fúck out, Ivy. You did hit her first.
"Don't you have a manga comic to jerk off to, Byrson?" Ivy bit out crudely.
Bryson corrected. "It's Hentai, babe."
Voices erupted. Students offered their side of the story and one particular boy shouted for a rematch. Rachel whined on about assault and how I should be arrested and sued for damages to her face. Ivy was snidely announcing to the class about how much of a 'dirty, disgusting whore' Yolande was to which Yolande responded. "Funny. That's exactly what your dad said to me on Saturday night when he was fúcking me in his car. Grey SUV with the busted number plate. Am I right?" It was wild.
"Enough!" Joe roared, spit bursting from his mouth, his face had turned a fascinating shade of dark plum-red. "Ivy, Rachel, Shay, Yolande, Bryson, stay behind. Everyone else – leave!" He hurried and pushed students out and kicked the door shut, walking to sit on the edge of his desk, shirt too tight on his chest. "Sit on the front row. Go on."
He waited until we were seated. I was sat between Yolande and Bryson. Byrson was dark-skinned, with wild unruly black hair. He wore black combat boots and a green check shirt and a white tee. Yolande was unfazed, pursed painted red lips, dyed caramel-blonde afro and she wore a baby pink tee and baby blue jeans. Ivy scoffed softly and murmured how ridiculous it was to make her stay behind.
Joe wasn't having it: he barked at her to shut her mouth. "You're not kids anymore. I'm not going to hold your hand and force you to apologise to each other. If you don't like someone, avoid them. Don't talk to them. Don't hit them. Don't instigate a fight and act innocent."
"Why are you looking at us, sir?" Rachel asked sourly.
"Because I'm talking about you," Joe snapped. "You got a problem with someone? Take it out my class. If any of you disrupt my class again, you won't be sitting your Law exams. Now get out. I only have an hour for lunch and I don't fancy spending it nagging at you."
Everyone scrambled out. The five of us silently walked down the corridor, avoiding each other's gazes. It was tense. Ivy was steaming but no-one really cared. We then split into two groups of two and three. Yolande, Bryson and I headed to the canteen. "Thanks for that." I said.
Yolande pushed a few stray curls from her forehead and shrugged. "Irvin told me to look out for you. You really shouldn't let them walk all over you."
"I didn't."
"And don't accept punishment so easily. Joe's a good guy but he refuses to see what'll cost him effort."
"So about Joe and Ivy...?"
Bryson spoke. "He's a good looking guy."
"Debatable." Yolande said.
"Seriously? What is he, forty? I pulled a face.
"So?" Yolande said. "Older guys are experienced."
My eyebrows rose and then fell. "Hmm." I shouldn't turn my nose up at Joe considering I've slept with both Doriano and Cole. It was hypocritical of me but that didn't mean I didn't have standards. Sleeping with a teacher was a messy cliché.
Yolande waved goodbye to us and promised to catch up with us later. For now she headed to the library, pencil stuck behind her ear, coursework on her mind. Bryson rocked on his heels for a moment and looked at me. "Wanna grab lunch?"
"Sure."
**
In English, Lauren instructed the class to get into pairs. The seat next to me was empty. Pari wasn't here. I had to turn around and work with the twins: Amy and Annie. They falsely smiled at me and although it was awkward and edgy working with them, we got through the booklet and answered all the questions by the time Lauren came round to check up on us. "You haven't heard from Pari, have you?" Lauren asked, hand on hip.
I shook my head and Lauren hummed. "Weird." She walked off to help another student.
Amy waited for a minute before leaning forward and casually asking. "So did you tell?"
"What?"
"On us." Annie said impatiently. Her sister shot her a glare to quieten down but Annie persisted. "You said you were going to last week. You know we were only joking. Pari is our friend even though she is a – a ..." She trailed off.
"A lesbian?" I finished for her. "And no, I didn't."
Amy beamed. "Cool! Are you free after class today? Annie and I were thinking of heading to Pari's house and checking up on her. See if she's okay. Maybe chuck a couple of magazines and ice cream tubs at her." That sounded ...awful. Poor Pari.
Annie looked at Amy in surprise. "We are?" She clearly couldn't contain her horror at the idea. Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline and she looked disgusted.
"I'm good," I said. Amy waited for an excuse but that was all I offered and she huffed to herself.
"Too good for us, huh?"
"No," I smiled. "I'm going to see my father. Have you heard about him? He's on the run for murder. You should tag along. I bet you'll love him."
Amy and Annie muttered and stuttered and sadly, told me they were too busy. They were terrified and rushed off as soon as the bell rang. Although it was stupid lying about him, the expressions on their faces were worth it. Maybe they'll leave me alone now.
I headed to therapy. Students headed towards the exit as I made my way up the staircase and along the empty Art corridor. Mrs. Holmes was waiting for me in an empty classroom. She greeted me pleasantly and asked how I was as I sat down opposite her.
I set my backpack down on the floor. "Good."
"You look chirpier today. Good news?"
"I had a day that wasn't entirely bad."
"Hmm? Tell me about it."
"Well..." I relaxed in my seat and then straightened up. "I think I made a friend or two. I'm not sure. I also ate edible lunch food today. Cheese sandwich. It had pickles in it which I tossed in the trash where it belongs. The only people who eat pickles are uncivilised savages who are ruining the economy."
She cracked a smile. "Tell me about your new friends."
"He's cute and she's cute and I guess they're both pretty swell."
"And the man we spoke of last week...?"
"He's still a cúnt flake."
"Do you–?"
"I don't care to speak about him. Not meaning to be rude but can we talk about something else?"
"OK. Do you talk to your brother?"
"Not really. I mean, we say hi and smile when we pass each other in the corridor but I haven't really had time to talk properly. I want to but the timing is never right."
She wrote something down. "Can I set you a task? Take some time this weekend to get a coffee with Seth. It'd be good to talk. You could help him understand questions he may have and rebuild the relationship you once had with him. I'm sure you miss him terribly and–"
"I will." She didn't need to lay on the guilt. I had already planned it out in my head. Things will go well. Fingers crossed.
**
The hour-long therapy session came to an end and Mrs. Holmes and I parted ways and agreed to meet again next week. I was sort of looking forward to it although I'd never admit it. She was like a diary. A stress-reliever. I babbled on and on today and she didn't seem to mind.
With hardly any students around, I headed down to the reception area and then out of the revolving doors and to the car park. My gut twisted as I came closer to my beloved Shogun. "Son of a..." I could hardly believe it. Someone had keyed the Shogun. I traced the wobbly scratches along the body and winced in pain. Seeing it made my eyes water.
Furious, I looked around for the culprit even though I knew whoever did it must've been long gone by now. I kicked the tyre in my blind rage. And then my gaze fell to the slashed tires. "Motherfúcking fúckers!"
"That's quite a potty mouth you've ..." Bryson trailed off as his eyes landed on my Shogun and he whistled in amazement. "You've sure made some enemies, ain'tcha?"
"Did you see who did it?"
"I just got out of detention," he took off his cap and pushed a hand through his curls. "But someone must–ooh. Look at the tires. Shit, man. You pissed off the wrong bitch."
"It was Ivy, that stupid cúnt. I swear I'm going to–"
"You can't throw around accusations. You never know, it might've been Rachel or any one of Ivy's posse of snakes. Hey. Come on. My brother's a mechanic. I can give him a bell. He'd be here by morning to pick it up." Bryson tugged me away to his car a few feet away. "I'll give you a lift."
"I should report it. I won't let that bitch get away with it." I was so mad I was shaking. I wanted to throttle Ivy.
Byrson unlocked his car, frowning at me. "Don't you know the first rule of life? No snitching. Get her back without announcing it to the world. Heck. I'll help you plot. Just don't be stupid and tell tales. No-one appreciates it. Not even the teachers."
I was conflicted on what to do. On one hand I wanted to toss my keys into a trash can and forget about the Shogun but on the other hand it was my first love and I couldn't abandon it in its time of need. Sighing in aggravation, I turned my back and opened the passenger door. He inserted his keys and the radio came on. "Seatbelt," he ordered.
"What sort of crap do you listen to? What is this?"
"I have a Drake CD."
"Drake's good."
"Check the glove box."
I played the new CD and tossed the old one–it was a southern gothic band–in a random case. I was still pissed but the anger was slowly trickling away. There was nothing more I could do for today so I left my worries in the car park and focussed on Bryson.
"You wanna come back to mine? Smoke a bowl? My parents are out."
"Order a pizza and I'm in."
"Deal."
**
Bryson's home was small but cosy. The living room was overflowing with flowery scatter cushions and doll ornaments in glass cabinets. A lazy brown cat mewed softly from an armchair. "Sorry about the mess," Bryson scratched the back of his head. "Mum's a hoarder freak."
"It's cool, I like it," I petted the cat's head and it purred softly. "Who's this precious baby?"
"That's Marvellous. Dad found her on the street years ago. She was a skinny, vicious tramp but now look at the fat lump." Bryson said fondly. He switched on the TV and settled for a black and white film before tossing the remote on to the sofa. "Make yourself at home. I'll go see about that pizza and call my brother about your wheels."
The pizza arrived just as Bryson's parents walked in. I was greeting his parents and introducing myself when Bryson shoved me out of the door, yelling to his parents he'd be back later. "We're going to yours. I love my parents but I'm not going to give them a chance to embarrass me."
"I'm going wherever that pizza is going," I said and Bryson dropped the pizza on my lap. I ate as I gave him directions to the flat. I was slightly anxious during the ride, hoping that it would be empty and Cole would be no-where in sight. We hadn't spoken since he stormed out this morning and I preferred it. I decided to stop chasing after him like a desperate dog. He only wanted me for sex and I'd be alright with that but he loved an argument and I didn't have the energy right now to play with him.
The flat was dark. I flipped a switch, doing a quick check of the rooms to find out no one was home and sighed in relief. I returned to Bryson and he waved the whiskey bottle at me. "You live alone?"
"With friends."
He poured me a glass and I threw it back even though I was supposed to be staying sober. However, it'd been a hard day. I deserved a small drink. I'd start my days to sobriety tomorrow. I don't know how it happened. Between drinking almost an entire bottle of whiskey between us and accidentally dropping the last slice of pizza on the dirty kitchen floor and then trying to scrape the cheese and laughing tipsily and shit-talking people we knew and touching and shoving each other and then suddenly we were in the dark living room kissing and I was thinking of Cole even though I didn't want to and then Bryson asking if I was sure and then muttering about having a condom in his wallet and then he was smiling and the room was spinning and my head was numb and I wrapped my naked legs around Bryson's waist as we kissed and he groaned and then I zoned out.
My mind went blank.
CHARACTER VIEWS DO NOT REPRESENT MY OWN. Please be civil in the comment section.