by Harmony Grey
My sorrowful eyes fall and land on my own attire, and I have a chest tightening, sickening feeling that my sorry ass clothes aren’t going to fit in here. An outfit I thought looked pretty decent until my bubble was burst a few moments ago. Usually, a cute pastel jumper and skinny jeans paired with my trusty black ballet flats would see me through any ordeal. It’s cute, but not too cute to make me stand out any more than I want to, and now there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m going to stick out a whole lot more than I intended and for all the wrong reasons. The most annoying part is that there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it, even if this whole mess could have been avoided.
My eyes snap again towards the doors to the main entrance, and I take in the Manorcroft crest again, not that I really need to feel any worse right now, and that’s when I see the school’s motto and it kind of feels like it’s laughing back at me as it reads:
Excellence, style and class.
Yeah, that totally isn’t me right now. The words burn my eyes while I sink lower into my seat, hoping that if I can’t see it then all these strange people won’t be able to see me. Then maybe this whole fucking fuck-fest won’t really be happening.
I need to come up with a plan and fast, yet my usually overactive mind is barren. How the hell could my mom do this to me? Doesn’t she realize she’s embarrassed me enough over the past seventeen years? Sure, I’m used to looking after myself. That’s something I had to learn to do a long time ago, because I had no other choice if I was to survive my mom’s self-obsessed antics. But this, this is fucking ridiculous. My own mother couldn’t even be bothered to tell me that I’d be needing a uniform, and a pretty expensive one from the looks of things for this posh as fuck school.
So, now, thanks to my mom’s major lack of giving a fuck I’m going to be the talk of the school, and not for the reasons that I’m used to.
Maybe I should quickly start up the engine and get out of here. I could make out that I’d got my dates mixed up or something. At least that way I’d be able to save myself from the heat of embarrassment until I’ve found some way to sort this mess out.
I know it’s not as easy as that though. Unlike my mom, I have a conscious. It’s obvious that my place at this school wouldn’t have come easily or for free like all my previous ones and going AWOL on my first day could cause all kinds of implications. No, just disappearing won’t help me. And the last thing I want is for anyone to think I’m nothing more than a stupid, ungrateful little bitch, because that really couldn’t be any further from the truth.
A heavy sigh ripples through my body as I try to weigh up my options. Am I going to be like my mom and run at the first hurdle, or am I going to own this?
It’s no good. Throwing my head back in despair when I realize that the time is ticking away and my whole body is crying out for me to hit the gas and drive away from this mess, but somewhere underneath all the noise, I know running away won’t be one of my wisest moves. I highly doubt it won’t solve the problem either. Clearly some strings have been pulled somewhere to make my place here even a possibility and if I had to guess then I’d say Dean would have most likely been the driving force behind it all. Whether I like it or not, I know I’m going to have to go inside and face the music, even if I don’t look the part.
And then it hits me. Why didn’t I think of this sooner instead of working myself into a state? I’ll go to the office as planned and when I’m there hopefully I’ll be able to try to explain the current mix-up. I’ll be able to collect my books and schedule while I’m there, apologize some more, and then get the hell out of there.
Then I’ll jump straight back into my mom’s truck, hoping that not too many people see the new girl running out on them before heading back to the monstrous mansion of dreams to see my mom, and otherwise else engaged or not, I’ll be giving her a very deep insight into how I really feel about her setting me up for a major fall and her apparent lack of giving a fuck.
Maybe she’ll surprise me and actually listen.
Maybe she won’t.
I guess only time will tell.
CHAPTER SIX
KANE
Twenty missed calls.
Twenty times he thought he could try to feed me endless amounts of bullshit excuses.
Twenty times I should have picked up and told the son of a bitch to go and fuck himself. But we both know it wouldn’t really matter what I said to him because underneath his fake persona, one he’s mastered since my mom’s untimely death, my father just doesn’t give a damn about anyone other than himself, and right now he’s far too busy fucking some two-bit whore and playing happy families in my mother’s house.
He’s acting like a foolish little boy, only thinking with his dirty cock, and acting as though my mom never fucking existed.
While that whore’s living it up in my mom’s house, I sure as hell won’t be and the sooner my father realizes that the better.
My father’s made his bed—literally—and now the heartless, selfish bastard can fucking rot in it for all I care. I rub my head, trying to ease the pressure as it feels like it’s about to cave in from all the bullshit and stress he’s so recklessly causing. And no matter how hard I try; I just can’t work him out for the life of me.
Before my mom died, my dad was the perfect family man. He was my role model. I wanted to be just like him when I was growing up, and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was that he was my protector.
Fuck, I could laugh at my naïve, gullible younger self—how little he fucking knew. If only I’d known then what type of guy my precious father was going to turn into. I know for a fact my mom would be turning in her grave right about now. There’s no fucking doubt about it.
My father was always so well put together. He was hard working, focused and majorly ambitious. Some people thought he might have been pushing himself too far, a wannabe over-achiever, but my father always made sure to reach and smash his dreams out of the park, no matter how far stretched or unachievable they seemed at the time.
My father was a man who stopped at nothing to make sure me and my mom were provided for and we never wanted for anything. His perfect little family, or so he used to tell us.
It’s stupid when I think about it now, but my father wasn’t just my hero. He was my best friend too. And now fucking look at us. Now he’s nothing more than one half of my DNA, and there’s been many times where I’ve wished that it was him who died instead of my mom.
My mom had so much love to give and she had so much to live for and she had it all snatched away from her in an instant.
“Did you manage to sort things out with Taylor?”
Ryder’s voice pulls me out of my angered thoughts and straight into another conversation I don’t want to have. It seems like everyone in my life is determined and dead set on destroying what little control I have left, and I have absolutely no idea why. What the hell have I done so badly to these people—except exist.
“Not yet,” I reply through gritted teeth as he watches me expectantly, like I might jump off the handle at any given moment, and to be honest, that could still happen. Nothing is impossible right now. The heated ball of anger rotted deep in the pit of my stomach ignites some more, growing larger by the day, the flames getting hotter and hotter as it eagerly licks at my insides, desperate to find a way out, to escape and unleash itself onto the unsuspecting world around me. I’m slowly edging closer to self-destruction and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
“The less I see of her right now, the better.” I tell my best friend truthfully.
I actually don’t think I have ever uttered a truer word. As soon as Ryder told me about my slut of a girlfriend and Rodriguez yesterday, something wild erupted with me and took my body for its own. A bit like I was nothing more than a measly vessel, forced to look on from the outside. I didn’t even realize what was happening until I was halfway across the school, heading towards the girl’s gymnasium.
I was ready to rip her apart for having the
sheer audacity of trying to humiliate me. Like I wouldn’t find out what she’d been up to behind my back. And with Rodriguez of all fucking people.
Taylor should know better than anyone that the good old people of Manorcroft love to gossip, and nothing ever stays secret for long. Especially around here. What bothered me most was that she really thought she’d be clever enough to get away with disrespecting me like that.
But the second I stormed into the gymnasium I was greeted by a dozen wide eyes, waiting with bated breath for my next move.
They knew why I was there, and I’ll give it to them, they sure knew to keep their distance as well. Everyone at Manorcroft High knew me and Taylor were a thing. Everyone knew that Rodriquez was my sworn enemy, and everyone here knew what had happened between them before I did.
Yet not a single one of those pussies opened their dirty little mouths to speak to me. And, surprise, surprise, Taylor was nowhere to be fucking seen.
I was beyond pissed, but as usual, Ryder was around to cool me down and made sure I stayed levelheaded. And sure enough, I woke up this morning and suddenly decided that the likes of Taylor and Rodriguez weren’t all that important right now. Their bullshit is totally irrelevant and if the two of them are brave enough to go behind my back like that then the two of them are fucking welcome to each other. A perfect match made in hell.
My father can join them too. Right after he’s finished destroying the tiny slither of what’s left of our family.
One thing I know is that I’m not here for it.
I’m not here for the drama, the bullshit or the broken, empty promises. I’m sure as hell not wasting my time by surrounding myself with people who only want to drag me down to their sorry ass level.
I don’t owe my father or Taylor a goddamn thing and if they think they can both play me for a fool then they can sure as hell think again.
“And Rodriguez?” Ryder asks, and I see the sparkle of curiosity blazing in his wide eyes. I swear he should have been a chick. He loves to gossip more than most of the chick’s I’ve fucked and that’s saying something.
“What the fuck do you think?” I hurl back a little too sharply, the venom in my voice whipping through the air between us. Ryder and I both know that if I’d have paid Rodriguez a visit then I wouldn’t be standing in the grounds of Manorcroft High right now, that’s for sure. I’d be too busy digging that motherfuckers grave before tossing him in it alive. Beaten within an inch of his life, but alive all the same.
“So, what now? Are you just going to stand back and let that kind of shit drop?” There’s an air of surprise in his voice, and I can’t say I’m surprised because Ryder knows me better than anyone else.
“I wish I could, man. But he’s gone way too far this time. Trying to come after me eager for a reaction? No problem. That shit doesn’t bother me, and I’ll handle him just fine, but to actively go after my girl?” Damn, that motherfucker is more idiotic than I initially thought. “Hell no. That kind of shit just doesn’t sit right with me.” I feel a wicked smirk etch onto my lips as I look at my best friend and he’s wise enough to take a couple of steps away from me. “His time is coming; don’t you worry about that. And this time I want his fucking blood.”
“Egan.”
Seriously? I grit my teeth the second I hear the sound of Mr. Bright’s grating voice bouncing off the cold walls. Mr. Bright is our delightful Principle and it’s no secret around here that we’re not exactly each other’s biggest fans.
And although it’s a hard task, we try to keep our differences at the door and try to stay amicable during school hours. It’s not like I had much of a choice as it’s the only way I’ve been able to stay on the school team. And putting up with Bright during school is a price I am more than happy to pay. A sacrifice I’m prepared to give.
If Bright had his way then I would have been kicked off the team from the get-go, but fortunately our coach knows talent when he sees it and he wasn’t afraid to put up a fight for what he wants or believes in.
“Sir…” I finally reply in the politest manner possible and his narrow nostrils flare in disgust as though I’m nothing more than the trash he’s just walked by.
He’s a small thin man, complete with ugly rodent features. His hair is thinning rapidly and it’s easy to see why he’s so goddamn angry all the time. The poor guy probably hasn’t felt the touch of a woman in one hell of a long ass time. Even the whore houses wouldn’t take someone like him. I guess the only way of making himself feel better is by taking his rage out on us.
“I’ve been looking for you.” He snarls and I don’t miss the tone of suspicion in his voice, which causes my own nostrils to flare. I mean, come on. Is this weirdo being for real right now? I’ve only just stepped through the double oak doors and already the bald prick’s on my case. He’s suffocating my every move, as per usual. No doubt he’s probably about to accuse me of someone else’s fucked up actions. Maybe one day soon he might just realize that when I fuck shit up, I’m sure to cover up my tracks so nothing and no one can ever come knocking at my door.
But to the likes of Bright, that doesn’t matter. No matter how big or small the drama might be, whatever goes down at Manorcroft High, as far as his greasy little mind is concerned, I always seem to have some part to play in it.
“Look, whatever’s happened, it’s got nothing to do with me.” I hold my hands up and hear Ryder sniggering by my side and I’m quick to shoot him down with a heated glare. Ryder is my right-hand man through and through, but I so don’t need him making things more complicated for me right now. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask him.” I shrug my shoulders casually and nod my head in Ryder’s direction, and with just one look at the giant beside me, Bright shrinks back on himself, shuddering like the true pussy he really is.
Bright hates me, for sure. And that feeling also filters down to anyone else who associates themselves with me. Including all the guys on the team. Actually, I think Bright hates the Manor Cats a whole lot more than he’d ever willingly admit out loud. But seeing how my fuckface of a father wipes his ass on the regular, there’s not a whole deal he can actually do about it.
“Usually, I’d be extremely wary of your defensive attitude, Egan. However…” his nose wrinkles in disgust again as though something foul has just invaded his senses. “There’s something that I need your assistance with this morning.”
“What, like now?” I demand, sure that I couldn’t have heard him right. Can’t he see there’s somewhere I need to be?
A sly grin spreads across his weasel like face and I can tell he’s really enjoying himself while trying to mess up my schedule. He’s always been at his happiest when other people are suffering—even more so at his hands. “Right now.” His voice booms back at me and his grin grows even wider, displaying his crooked, tobacco-stained yellow teeth for all to see.
“You know, I’d really love to help out,” I lie freely, “but…” I point to my jersey like it’s my get out of jail free card, “I’ve got practice and you know how coach hates any last-minute changes to his line up.” I can’t help but smirk back at him knowingly because everyone knows that it’s best to stay on coach’s good side—at all costs.
Game over motherfucker.
There is no way in hell that he’ll be able to drag me away from practice. That is one area where Bright has zero control over. All too soon he narrows his beady little eyes at me and a strong sense of dislike simmers in the air between us. Some days I often wonder why the jerk hates me so damn much. I mean, if I had something to go off then it would make watching him squirm so much more enjoyable as I made sure to play up to the hate.
I give him one last glare before turning to walk off, eager to get to the changing rooms, away from Bright’s disapproving and judgmental gaze but he’s quick to stop me in my tracks.
“Oh, did I forget to say? Practice is cancelled. I thought you would have gotten the memo.”
I cringe at the sound of Bright trying to stay down with
the kids. It’s wrong on so many levels and it’s embarrassing as fuck. Bright isn’t what we class as a cool teacher, and he never will be—period. The slimy maggot is passed it, and the sooner he realizes it and wiggles out of here, the better.
“What did you say?” I demand, my voice rising as my inner beast comes clawing to the surface, threating to erupt and finally unleash itself on anyone standing in its path. Bright can’t cancel shit. That’s coach’s call and his only.
“I said, practice is cancelled.”
“Since when? Practice has never been cancelled before.” Come rain or shine, we play. We always play, and that’s how we make sure that we’re always on top of our game.
Bright decides against answering me straight away. Instead, he watches me closely, wide eyes like an insect about to get squished. Man, how I’d love to fucking squish him too. Sure, he might be the principle of Manorcroft High, but that’s all he is. He doesn’t get so much as a say on the school team.
When I step closer to Bright again, I take all of his frail frame in and see that his grey bushy eyebrows are furrowed together, like two caterpillars trying to get down and dirty as he burns his empty, emotionless black beady eyes into mine.
“Since I said so.” His voice is even and full of warning this time. “Do you have a problem with that, Egan?”
Yes. Yes, I fucking do. I have a major problem with it, but I don’t think it would be wise for me to tell him exactly how I’m feeling about it right now. I swear he’s such a fucking jerk. He should have retired a lifetime ago, yet here he is giving it his all to make our lives a living hell.
I guess he must be really bored and lonely to hold so much anger and resent the kids the way he does. But then that’s a problem for him to deal with, not us. One thing I do know is that it’s not natural and it sure as hell can’t be all too healthy either.
“I could always discuss this issue with your father?” He presses, eager to push me as far as I’ll go, no doubt hoping to get some kind of reaction out of me.