Rebel: Enemies to Lovers Bully Romance

by Savannah Rose

  “Sit down and shut the fuck up Kace, now is not the time for this.”

  I don’t know if it’s because he defended me back in the meeting room, or because emotions are still high, but I can’t let him do this.

  “If you’re going to see Rick, that’s a pretty stupid move, even for you.”

  He glances up into the rearview mirror at me with an ‘I’ll knock your lights out’ look in his eyes. I don’t care. He’s being dumb. He’d never walk out of that place without a tail on his ass. To be fair, I’m not even sure why I give a damn, it’s not like Cain doesn’t belong in prison. Plus, my life would be a fuckload easier if he were to get locked up.

  “You have a police problem on your hands. Walking into their territory cannot make sense to you,” I continue, hoping he will see the logic in what I’m saying.

  I see Gabe glance across at Cain, waiting for his answer. I’m sure he gets what I’m saying and understands that I’m right.

  “I’m not going to see Rick,” Cain growls.

  “Then where are we going?” I ask again.

  “I’m not going to see Rick fuckface, you are.”

  That one catches me off guard. “The fuck I am.” My face is drawn instantly into a contortion of disgust. Has Cain actually lost his damn mind?

  I growl back at him and he swerves the car off the road and unto the soft shoulder before coming to a complete stop on the road.

  “Listen to me you little shit.” He spins around to face me, and I can see the vein above his brow bone pulsing violently as beads of sweat fall off him. “You saw what just went down, you were there. Or were you busy daydreaming about some bullshit life that you’ll never have? Huh?”

  “Kace, this is serious,” Gabe chimes in, agreeing with Cain, albeit in a much calmer manner.

  “Sure. I was there. I saw a bunch of men scamper after an old man got hit.”

  Cain has a fistful of my shirt in his hands within seconds, yanking me forward towards him.

  “I’ve had enough of your smart mouth. Now, you listen to me. Somebody just made a move against us. They threatened our family. Nobody threatens our family, do you understand me?”

  I blink back at him, not sure which of the many responses swirling around in my mind to give him. Since when did we become a family?

  I glance down at his hand on my shirt then back up at him with a questioning look and he lets me go.

  “What went through your mind when the first message came through, Kace?” Gabe asks, turning to face me too. “Didn’t you think about Abby and mom?”

  The feeling of panic returns to me just thinking about it.

  I nod.

  “Do you think the guys who had folks executed today feel the same way about their folks as you do about yours?”

  I shrug. I’m not used Gabe being the voice of reason, or Cain letting him for that matter. They must really be rattled.

  “How would you feel about the people who did that to Abby or mom?” he asks, his eyes levelled with mine and his face so close I can smell the cigarette on his breath.

  I don’t have to respond in words. I can feel a deep scowl forming on my face and I imagine finding Abby or mom hurt by anyone or dead.

  “I’d want them dead,” I growl.

  “Good. We’ve got an X on our backs now. Sure there are two options, but in our world, that doesn’t fucking matter. None of us, not even Abby, is safe.” Gabe pauses and studies my face at his last comment.

  So those are my options then?

  See Rick and figure out a solution to a possible shitstorm, or be a bitch about how daddy didn’t love me, and risk the lives of the only two people I actually care about.

  Those hardly seem like options.

  “And let’s just get one thing straight right now,” Cain chimes in with a no-nonsense air about him, “you’re one of us now. You were born a Da’Costa whether you like it or not. You got your ink, you got your piece, you know the routes. You little brother, are a part of a family that sees loyalty as the God of the universe.”

  Again, what fucking family has he been a part of?

  “If I ever have to question your loyalty to this family ever again, you’re out, you got it?” Cain’s eyes are full of darkness but for the first time, I see something else there, something human.

  “Fine.” I nod. “Let’s go see dear old dad.”

  10

  Janey

  I’ve waited all week to apologize to Kace, but he hasn’t returned to school since slashing my tires to smithereens.

  My imagination keeps coming up with the worst possible reasons for his absence and it’s honestly quite stressful. Is he somewhere balled up in a corner beaten to a pulp by the thugs that I’m quite sure would dominate a place like that?

  He doesn’t seem like a scrappy kind of guy. Actually, if I’m completely honest, he’s easily the most muscular senior in this entire place. The more I think about it, the more I wonder what that place was that he brought me to and who on earth that other barbarian-looking guy was? He looked like a mean spirited Mufasa with his heavy beard. Just thinking about the place gives me the creeps. I can only hope he’s not dead. That would be the worst option, wouldn’t it? Such an incredible waste of potential. An incredible waste of beauty. My throat starts to tighten as worst-case scenario after worst-case scenario sits heavy on my chest and I shake my head trying to expel the dark thoughts.

  “Ms. Bradshaw?” Mr. Kisanga pulls me back into class, tearing me away from the stampede of my galloping thoughts.

  “Yes?”

  “Is everything alright? You’re being unusually quiet.” He smiles at me and I wonder how it is that he can tell the difference.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  He smiles, satisfied with my response, and continues. So it’s not all of their students that these teachers are oblivious about then. Just Kace? That doesn’t seem right.

  I raise my hand and ask to be excused and Mr. Kasinga graciously allows it. There’s no point in me pretending to be focused. Not when there are other more pressing matters to address. Not when I could be helping to save someone’s life.

  Why you, Janey? Why you, and why Kace?

  Cori likes to think that I’m obsessed with fixing people. She calls it my greatest character flaw, but she’s wrong. I’m not obsessed with fixing anybody. I’ve accepted my uselessness in that department. I tried for years to fix my brother before I understood what the word ‘gay’ meant. It’s a miracle that my parents didn’t seem to realize what was glaringly obvious from the start. When I finally realized who he was, I tried fixing him in another way and that still didn’t help. His tastes and mine are significantly different and everything I recommended, whether an outfit, a chill spot or a guy, was never good enough for him, so I just let it go.

  I tried fixing Cori, who to me was all sorts of broken. What kind of lady loves to play football? It requires intense cardio, grass stains and wild human contact. I’m okay with none of those things. And oh my gosh, footballers can be so unbelievably loud. The only thing that should ever be that loud is music and not just any old riff-raff type of music, but quality compositions. Anyhow, I failed there too. Miserably.

  I was probably only successful in getting her to see the value of music, though that may have worked a little too well. I never meant for her to run away with a rock band and forego her trust fund. Definitely an F- on that one.

  I also took on the Herculean task of trying to fix my parents. This labor of love became the source of immense heartbreak for me and along the way, I learned words like narcissism, postpartum depression, infidelity and divorce. My attempts to fix them backfired in a big way and I had to abandon the cause with nothing to show for it.

  So, no. I’m not trying to fix Kace. I’m just trying to give him options because something in my gut tells me that he doesn’t have a lot of those right now, and that’s no way for anyone to live.

  When I get to the principal’s office, I’m greeted by smiles. The as
sistant waves me in and I walk over to her.

  “Hey Janey, how are you? Is everything alright?” she asks sweetly, and I can’t help but wonder if this is how they greet all their students. I hope so.

  “Is she free?” I ask and she motions for me to have a seat while she dials the extension.

  “Janey Bradshaw is here to see you. No. Yes. I believe so. Okay great.”

  I smile up at her and she nods towards the door.

  The principal’s office is as organized as I remember it being. This is why I like her so much. I can tell that she’s borderline OCD and that makes her a kindred spirit.

  “Hi Janey, please, have a seat,” she offers, and I sit across from her, examining her desk as I do so.

  The pictures of her family seem to be missing, but I’d rather not dig around that too much right now. I’m on a mission. And my mission is not to fix the principal’s marriage. Okay, so maybe there is something wrong with me. But when has caring too much ever been a problem?

  “What brings you by?”

  “I wanted to ask you about Kace Da’Costa,” I say, keeping my voice steady.

  She visibly finches and I’m slightly annoyed. How is it that everyone forgot just how promising Kace used to be?

  “Has he done something to you?”

  Nothing other than push me a little too hard, graffiti my locker, rip up my college application, slash my car tires… Of course, I don’t say any of that. Let bygones be bygones.

  “Why would you assume that he did?” I ask, trying to mask my feelings.

  She waves her wrist, as though dismissing the very thought of him. “Oh, we all know how he is these days.”

  That won’t do.

  “No. He didn’t do anything to me, except possibly save my life.”

  Her eyebrows fly up and I can tell I have her full attention. Good. Whatever happened to adults looking out for kids, especially when they can tell that something is a little off-kilter?

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  I wave my wrist, dismissing her attempt to get me to elaborate and steer the conversation in a different direction.

  “The Kace I remember from junior year is not the same person that drops by here from time to time,” I comment, and she nods in agreement.

  “No. He most certainly is not. But I’m not exactly at liberty to discuss another student with you, Miss Bradshaw.”

  “The problem is,” I say, and look her deep in the eyes, “no one wants to discuss Kace. Everyone’s okay handing out detentions slips, but no one seems to care that maybe he’s getting detention for a reason. It’s obvious he’s rebelling, how is it that none of the teachers are asking themselves why?”

  She shakes her head and sighs. When she looks back up at me, I can tell that I’m getting through to her even if she’s not at all pleased with the fact that she’s getting this lecture from an eighteen year old.

  “That young man was so full of promise,” she finally says. “One of our brightest stars. He came here on a full scholarship and had big dreams of getting into an Ivy League university.”

  I nod because that’s the Kace I remember. That’s the Kace I want to help.

  “And now he’s two ticks away from dropping out of high school. He failed an open book test, for crying out loud.”

  She looks at me questioningly for a moment and I give her my warmest smile. I can tell that she’s weighing whether or not to continue this conversation.

  “I know you feel like you’re breaking some kind of confidentiality here, but the thing is…even if I scream our conversation from the rooftop, where’s the backlash going to come from? Not Kace. Not his family.”

  Another sigh. She pushes a pile of papers from one side of her desk to the other, buying time. Thinking. Contemplating. And then finally, she caves. “He’s exhibiting textbook delinquent behavior,” she says. “Missing classes, failing tests, hostility towards students and disrespecting staff. I was notified about his tattoos recently, but honestly, at this stage, Kace is more likely to give himself detention or suspension than I am. He hasn’t been to school in a number of days.”

  If anyone else just stopped coming to school, I know they’d move heaven and earth to find out what’s going on.

  “Do you know why all of this happening?”

  She pauses for a second. “Peer pressure, I assume. Running with the wrong crowd. He’s completely isolated himself so all efforts to help him have been shot down. He doesn’t want to be helped.”

  How can she be so dismissive about this?

  I sit back in the chair with my arms folded across my chest and my legs crossed, trying not to make eye contact with her.

  “Janey, what is this about?” she asks.

  “I’d like to volunteer to tutor Kace.”

  Her mouth falls open for a second before she regains her composure. “Has he asked you for help?” she asks, leaning forward against her desk.

  I shake my head and she nods, as though I’ve just confirmed that Kace is beyond helping.

  “You’re free to tutor anyone you want.” She leans back in her chair, visibly disinterested in the rest of the conversation.

  “I’m not asking for permission to tutor him.” I smile because I can sense that the rest of my request will be an uphill battle. “I’m asking for assistance from the school.”

  I watch her face distort into one of confusion. I didn’t expect anything less. “How so?”

  “Well, you can make the tutoring mandatory.”

  She laughs a humorless laugh before standing up to pace her side of the room.

  “Janey, sweetie, you really do have a heart of gold.” She’s shaking her head at me and I want to throw my sneakers across the desk at her.

  “The last thing someone like you needs is to get mixed in with the likes of Kace Da’Costa. Trust me.”

  I scoff at her and she seems genuinely surprised.

  “Someone like me?” I ask, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.

  “Yes. You’re going to make something of yourself. He isn’t.”

  “You’re kidding me. Mrs. Jordan, do you even know where Kace lives? Who his parents are? What his life is like?”

  “It’s in his file, but I can’t see how any of that is important.”

  That’s the problem! I scream internally, biting down on my teeth and taking a big breath to calm myself. Mrs. Jordan is fairly new in this school and no, I didn’t expect her to sift through all our files and memorize our data. But you’d think that with the way Kace is acting, she’d at least be inclined to take a peek.

  “It’s important. It’s very important. It would explain a lot and maybe you’d see him differently. What he was able to accomplish in the past becomes more impressive when held up against the backdrop of where he’s coming from. He had promise, but that wasn’t handed to him. He had to fight to earn it. I have promise, but I have had everything I’ve ever needed to make the process smooth. I’ve had access to labs after hours, office hour sessions and personal tutors. If I didn’t have promise, I’d be a waste of resources. Kace has no resources to waste and all I want to do is level the playing field. If he chooses to be a waste of resources, then fine, but I think he deserves to have the options available to him.”

  I can tell that she’s thinking about what I said and that it’s not exactly making her comfortable. To be fair, I hadn’t intended to lecture the principal. Oh dear. After a few moments that feel like forever, she takes her seat again across from me.

  “Okay, Miss Bradshaw. I take your point. Here’s what I’m willing to offer you and only because you made such a compelling case.”

  I nod, keeping my eyes on hers.

  “I’ll draft a letter, requiring Kace to take tutoring sessions with you a few times a week. In the event, however, that he doesn’t comply, I can’t say that I’ll be inclined to issue any punishments. As we both know, it isn’t as though he responds well to detention or anything of the sorts, anyway.”

  �
�Thank you,” I smile and start to rise to leave.

  The biggest challenge now will be getting that egg-head to actually show up. I don’t imagine he’ll be too excited about me trying to help him, so I need to brace for that.

  I extend my hand to Mrs. Jordan who smiles at me and shakes it before I leave. Out in the corridor, I can’t decide what my first move will be. I have no idea how to reach Kace and I don’t know when he’ll be back. Maybe I could drive into Kensington...though, after my talk with dad the other day, I don’t think that’s such a great idea. In moments like these, I wish we were friends. I wish I had his number or some means of reaching him.

  “Where are you, Kace?” I whisper to myself, climbing the stairs to the library.

  There are very few things more comforting to me than a room full of books, lounge chairs and bean bags. Ms. Freckleton looks surprised to see me during class hours, but she grants me entry without question, and I give her a hug.

  “How’ve you been Janey dear?” she croaks at me, her loose skin jiggling as she talks. She must be at least 70 years old, but she isn’t anywhere near ready to push the retirement button.

  “I’m great,” I smile at her and she waves me inside.

  My thoughts are tripping over each other and I can feel a migraine threatening to form in the back of my neck. There’s a stack of yearbooks on a shelf and I pick one up and flip through the pages. Freshman year was a mean year for me. I find my picture and have to clasp my hand over my mouth to stop myself from hooting with laughter. The little girl staring back at me is wearing wide-rimmed glasses with baby blue braces and pigtails.

  ‘Geez Janey, you really were quite the fashion icon back then’ I think to myself, looking for Erika who I vaguely remember having terrible acne.

  Looking at her flawless skin now you wouldn’t guess that there was a time when she referred to her face as the sandbox. My hands come to a stop at a picture I’ve probably never seen before. There, staring back at me with curly blonde hair and a wide-eyed stare is Kace. He looks so innocent. I drop the yearbook and pick up last year’s edition, but he’s not in it, so I go to the year before. I skip through everyone until I find Kace. He’s visibly different. Same eyes, with less enthusiasm and less facial hair. Underneath his picture, it says he wants to be either a Marine Biologist or a Veterinary Surgeon. His greatest influence is his mom. Best known for winning science prizes and his philosophy is to live slowly and die at an old age surrounded by the fruits of his fulfilled purpose.