by Hart, Rebel
Stupid and idiotic. Sounds like something you’d get yourself into.
“You think I should go over to his house after school sometime this week?”
Allison poured the clear liquid into the beaker. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Look, it’s bubbling up.”
I watched the bubbles turn all sorts of fluorescent colors as it climbed up the neck of the glass beaker. It overflowed and we quickly moved our notes before jotting down what we’d witnessed. I kept stealing glances over at Allison. I watched her pen move quickly across her notepad. Something looked different about her. I couldn’t place it, but I knew it.
She was hiding something from me.
“Allison.”
“Hmmm?”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
And when her pen faltered, I knew I had her.
“Rae, don’t do this now. Okay?”
I scoffed. “So you have been talking to Michael.”
“Rae—”
“Just tell me the damn truth, Allison.”
I kept my voice at a hushed volume, but I still felt people’s eyes on me and Mr. Abernathy lingering around us. I still felt as if the world was shining its great, big beacon directly into my fucking face.
And after Allison was done jotting down her notes, she turned her attention to me.
“No, Michael hasn’t talked about the incident between you two. But yes. We’ve talked, a lot, over this past weekend. Which was the first reason I knew something was up. He called every day, multiple times a day. Came over a few times. He talked about anything and everything other than this one thing, and you know Michael. You know he’s just not like that. He’s not a chatterbox about his life.”
I paused. “Is he okay?”
She nodded. “He’s fine. He’s angry. He’s hurt. He’s upset, clearly. But he’s fine. So, when I tell you to give him time, that’s what you need to do. From someone who spent practically all damn weekend with him? Give. Michael. Time.”
Then the lunch bell rang, causing the class to scatter and rush for the hallways.
Just like the entire world seemed to rush around in my mind.
28
Clinton
I sat in math class staring out the window onto the school lawn. The weekend had been rough. Solitary. Filled with a lot of sleeping and multiple hangover cures. Roy ended up pulling me back into that fucking party of Marina’s, where I ended up getting so shitfaced that I passed out on the porch. The fucking concrete porch. I woke up the next morning to Marina shaking me like a damn blender, telling me to wake up and get out before her parents got home. I drove back to my place tipsy and tired, trying my hardest to keep my bike steady on the road as I chugged back the lukewarm bottle of water still stuffed down into my pocket somehow.
Only to be met with my father at the front door.
My neck still hurt from that encounter. But as far as brushes with my father went, this one was pretty tame. Cecilia pulled him off me, which was a first. And to punish her for it, my father left a few hours later for a business trip without her. Left her behind in the house to mope around in her heels and her perfectly-manicured fingernails.
Making me feel like a stranger in my own damn childhood house.
The rest of the weekend was spent in my room. I hoarded food there like a wild animal and didn’t come out until it was time for school this morning. I skipped Monday. I didn’t like Mondays, anyway. I called in for myself, actually. Made a few retching noises. Let loose a few burps. Talked to the school nurse. And in the span of ten minutes, I had a free day from school without a phone call to my father.
Which was the last thing I needed to happen right now.
I slept all day yesterday, and as I sat there in my boring as hell math class, I wished to be sleeping again. In the comfort of my own bed with music softly playing in the background. But no. I had to be here. Because the school breathed down our throats and sent out needless phone calls to parents if we didn’t show up. Like I still wasn’t some legal-ass adult at eighteen. I mean, everything happened at eighteen. I could buy cigarettes. Doctors didn’t have to go through my parents anymore. I could schedule my own medical shit. Fill my own prescriptions. Buy fucking nose medicine over the counter with my I.D.
So why the fuck didn’t schools stop calling parents when we turned eighteen?
If the doctor couldn't do it, why could they?
Makes no damn sense.
“Mr. Clarke?”
I whipped my eyes to the front of the classroom, where Miss Abigail was staring at me from beyond her black-framed glasses.
“Yeah?”
She pursed her lips. “What’s the value of ‘x’?”
I shrugged. “Depends on how you dumped them, I guess.”
But, instead of the class laughing like they usually did, I watched them shake their heads and scowl at me. A couple of the girls from the party at Marina’s rolled their eyes before passing notes to each another. I felt like that monkey again. Only now I was failing at my job. And if I wasn’t here for entertainment and laughter, then what the fuck was I here for?
I suddenly felt out of place at school, too.
Like I had at home this past weekend.
“Very funny, Mr. Clarke. Explains why you haven’t done your homework in a week, too.”
And with that, Miss Abigail turned her attention away from me. A flippant response before paying attention to the students that were really important. The students that made teachers like her proud. The students teachers like her wanted to mentor. Wanted to remember. Wanted to mold and shape.
Just another retired circus monkey.
I felt something hot against the nape of my neck and turned around. And it didn’t shock me one bit when I found Michael mean-mugging me from behind. He’d switched his seat in class to sit behind me instead of in front of me after that schoolyard fight. Why he’d done it was beyond me, but it wasn’t something I cared about debating. Every time I saw that squirrelly little fucker, he made it a point to glare in my general direction.
Only his glares had gotten hotter with each passing day lately.
I blew him a kiss before turning around, then slumped into my seat. I let my eyes fall back out the window, gazing out at the green grass and bright blue sky as Miss Abigail’s voice faded into the background. Classes changed and I gathered up my things. I went and flopped myself down in English class and saw Allison continuously stealing looks in my general direction. I didn’t pay it any mind, though. I didn’t give a shit about Michael or her. The only person I gave a damn about was Rae.
And I couldn't even get her to look at me.
I saw her in the hallways and tried to meet her eyes, but she always turned her back to me. I tried scanning the cafeteria at lunch time, trying to catch where her and her friends would park it. I wanted to hear her voice again. Even if it was in anger, cursing me out before slapping me across the face. Yelling at me was better than the whole barrel of ‘nothing’ she was tossing my way now.
And when I saw her walk into the cafeteria, hope ignited in my chest.
I stood up from my chair as Roy rattled on about some stupid-ass nonsense. Marina nibbled at her banana, keeping the trend of her starving herself going. I stood there, listening as voices faded into the background. And as Rae’s eyes found mine, I saw her lips turn down at the sight of me.
Then she turned around and walked back out of the cafeteria.
“You good, Clint?”
Roy’s voice pulled me back from the brink, as I felt my fists balling up, my arms shaking, every part of me tensing up as Allison and Michael appeared in the cafeteria doorway. Michael had a scowl on his face before he walked up to the lunch line. Allison rolled her eyes at me, the two of them moving in the opposite direction of Rae. That made me even more furious. Why the fuck weren’t her friends with her during a time like this?
Roy tugged on my leather jacket. “Dude, sit down
. I was getting to the best part. Marina did this new thing that—”
“I don’t give a shit what your girlfriend does to your dick, dude!”
I whipped around, glaring at him as the cafeteria came to a grinding halt.
“I don’t give a shit how she kisses you, or how she sucks you off. I don’t care how much she puts out or the new shit you can get her to pull. I literally give no fucks about any of it. And you want to know why?”
Roy grimaced. “The hell’s wrong with you?”
I chuckled bitterly. “I don’t give a damn about it because I know you only do it to be cool. You do it to get attention and to try and be the big man, when you’re not. It’s pathetic. And you really need to stop, because you look like a shithead.”
Roy slid Marina off his lap before he stood up, standing toe to toe with me. And despite the fact that I towered over him by almost five inches, he held his ground. Which was impressive, but stupid.
“You wanna run that by me again?”
I licked my lips. “I don’t know. Were you dumb enough not to hear it the first time around?”
Marina hissed. “The two of you, shut up. Teachers are coming over.”
I jumped at Roy, causing him to step back before I grinned at him. And as teachers in the cafeteria came to settle down the riff-raff, I strode to the cafeteria door. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t thirsty. The only thing I felt was anger. Frustration. Confusion. The three-course meal I’d been dining on for fucking days. I marched right out of that damn cafeteria, ignoring the teachers that called out after me. I got around the corner and charged for the glass double doors, slamming into them with a pop.
And when my eyes gazed down onto the football field, I saw three senior students from the school down the road laughing and joking around, and dumping shit onto the grass.
Perfect.
I made my way for the field, practically leaping down the stairs. I heard them laughing as one of them whipped out their cocks to literally piss on the painted outlines of our mascot on the green turf. I whistled to myself as my fists unclenched. I breathed a sigh of relief as their laughter came to a grinding halt. I hopped over the fence, touching down onto my feet as I smiled broadly at them.
“Afternoon, boys,” I said.
And I chuckled as my victims cowered in their own fucking boots.
29
Raelynn
I got halfway down the hallway before I rounded around the corner. I didn’t want to come into contact with Clint. Not now. Not when things were so rough with, well, everything else. I waited for a few minutes, listening as Clint’s voice boomed across the cafeteria. I didn’t know what he was saying, but I knew he wasn’t happy. I heard Roy’s name tossed into everything, then I saw teachers getting up from the corner. Part of me wanted to rush to Clint, to help him calm down before he really got himself into some trouble.
But then his heavy footsteps faded away before the slamming of a door echoed in the distance.
I heard teachers fruitlessly calling out his name as a dull roar rose from the crowd of students in the cafeteria again. And after a few deep breaths, I made my way inside. I took my seat quickly in the corner, like I always did. The place where Michael, Allison, and I always sat. The place where Allison had kept me company yesterday while Michael strode past us, making his way for the outside patio.
Only this time, he slammed his tray down beside me just as Allison sat in front of me.
My eyes widened as I turned my body to face him. I peeked over at Allison, watching as she nodded toward Michael. I licked my lips, feeling the whole of my body lock up as my eyes met his.
This was the first time he’d so much as acknowledged my existence since his appearance on my doorstep. And I wasn’t sure what to make of it all. He looked angry, but also tired. He looked frustrated, but also worn. Frazzled. Part of me wanted to reach out and hug him. But the rest of me knew better.
He sighed as he rested his elbow on the table.
“Look. I’m still pissed off. You hid this from me, and I don’t get why you went for Clint of all the guys in this school. I don’t get it, and I never will. But I want to put this behind us. Can we? Please?”
My jaw dropped open. “I, uh… don’t know why you’re asking me. I’m not the one to make that decision.”
Michael snickered. “You have just as much of a choice about it as I do.”
“I mean, not really. I’m not the one hurt. I’m the one doing the hurting.”
“It’s clear you’re hurting, Rae. Just in a different way.”
I paused. “Maybe so.”
Allison darted her eyes between us. Michael sighed as his free hand settled against my knee. I looked down at it and smiled with tears in my eyes, then settled my hand on top of his. It felt good, having him back. Having him talk to me. Having him near me. I’d missed my friend, my confidant, my cheerleader and my guiding moral light.
I nodded as I held back tears. “I’d really like to put this behind us, yes.”
Michael took my hand, ripping me out of my seat. And as he wrapped his long arms around me, I squeezed him around his waist. I giggled breathlessly as he nuzzled against me, trying to soothe my invisible wounds. I heard Allison get up before a soft pair of arms wrapped around both of us, causing Michael to chuckle to himself.
“Had to get in on the action, huh?”
Allison smiled. “I mean, I can never resist a good happily ever after.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been watching Disney movies again, haven’t you?”
Allison scoffed. “Just let me say, ‘And then everyone lived happily ever after, the end’.”
Michael laughed. “Okay, but only this once.”
All of us gave one last big squeeze, then we unraveled ourselves from one another. We sat down and started unpacking our lunches, smiling and talking like we used to do. It felt nice, having some semblance of normalcy around this table again. And it felt really good to hear Michael’s lame jokes as I talked about Mom and D.J. I rehashed the conversation, telling them about my mother’s decision. How I really felt she was serious this time. How it felt like things might actually be different.
But soon, I felt my eyes scanning the cafeteria.
“He left.”
Michael’s voice pulled my eyes back to him, and he gave me a knowing look.
“What?”
Allison giggled. “Oh, come on, Rae. Don't play that game.”
Michael shook his head. “Lying’s what got you into this mess, you know.”
I sighed. “No, omitting information is what got me into this mess.”
Allison smiled. “So, you admit you’re lying now?”
I paused. “I plead the fifth.”
Michael scoffed. “He left, and he hasn’t come back yet.”
I shrugged. “Oh, well. His loss. I was going to throw a Cheeto at him.”
“Uh huh,” Michael said as he spooned a bite of chicken pot pie into his mouth. “Sure, you don’t.”
I rolled my eyes at him before focusing on my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Mom had actually packed me a lunch today. For the first time in years, I came downstairs to a brown paper bag that she handed off to me with a big smile on her face. And thinking about it made me smile with every bite. Mom looked radiant lately. Like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. I mean, I knew she’d end up stressing herself out over money and bills. But being free of D.J. looked good on her.
I really hope it stays this way.
“So you actually told your mom about Clint?”
Allison’s question made me nod as I swallowed my sandwich.
“Mm-hmm. I did. And I’m actually glad I did. It’s been a long time since I’ve really been able to talk to her like that. And, despite the hiccup of that evening, we still enjoyed our pizza and movie marathon.”
Michael grinned. “Shame you didn’t invite me in for pizza.”
I giggled. “You didn’t stick around long enough for us to get to that point
.”
“You have a decent argument there.”
“It’s not an argument, it’s just the truth. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Refreshing, coming from you.”
I playfully glared at him. “That one feel good?”
Michael nodded. “Actually, it did.”
“Good. Because it’s the only one you’ll get.”
The three of us laughed again before a commotion started in the back of the cafeteria. Kids rushed to the windows and poured out onto the patio, their hands clapping and cupping over their mouths. I furrowed my brow deeply as I craned my neck, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.
Then, I heard it. I heard what they were chanting.
“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”
Allison’s face fell. “Uh oh.”
Michael shook his head. “Shit.”
And as a sinking feeling filled my gut, I felt myself standing from my seat.
Clint.
I abandoned my lunch and pressed myself between Michael and the wall. I slipped away, listening to them yell at me as I headed for one of the windows. I pushed people out of the way, trying to catch a glimpse of what they were looking at. And when I saw a towering black mass dancing around on the football field, I felt my lunch creep up the back of my throat.
Shit.
I pushed away from the window and charged for the cafeteria exit. I had to navigate the masses, since they had already started rushing out the door. Teachers were trapped. The principal was stuck at the back of the hallway. It took all the effort I had to shove people to the concrete in order to get ahead of them.
And all the while, Allison and Michael yelled for me to come back.
30
Clinton
I took a blow to the jaw and stumbled back. Actually stumbled. On my feet. That hadn’t happened in a fight in quite some time. Usually, it was only my father that made me stumble backwards. These boys fought harder than I’d originally given them credit for. And I was happy for it. The pain gave me something to focus on. Their beady, disgusting little eyes gave me targets for the fury in my fists. I felt blood pumping through my veins and fire coursing through my bones. I felt alive. More alive than I ever had before.