Rich Riot

by Henry, Max

  “Did you see her when you got home?”

  She nods. “We saw each other at university. I think she knew she’d done wrong because the few words she said to me were curt and unnecessary. But after some time we moved past it and became mutual strangers.”

  I frown, glancing down at the tea between my hands. “That’s still sort of sad, though, that you lost a friend over a guy.”

  She shrugs. “I caught up with her a few years after school. She had a wee one in daycare, and I worked at the Council office a few doors down. We said hello, exchanged a few words, but I knew then that she was never meant to be a lifetime friend.”

  “Why?”

  Deidre smiles, staring off at nothing in particular. “I’d grown, but she hadn’t. I would have been held back if I tried to keep in with her. Being dropped that day was probably the best favour she could have done for me.” She nods toward my cup. “Finish your tea before your dad arrives.”

  She excuses herself from the table, leaving to bang around in the adjacent laundry while I stay rooted to the spot, slowly sipping the soothing beverage. Her thoughtful words make sense when I slide them into the context of what I currently go through.

  Maybe the fallout from separating away from Riverbourne is easier to deal with now, as a kid, than it would be if I’d stayed a part of the crowd until I was older? My mum’s age. Things are hard right now, but if I dig deep and ask myself why, what is the real answer?

  Because the people who I thought were friends hurt me?

  Because my family is split in two, my brother a veritable stranger?

  Or because my heart fell for a boy who comes from an entirely different background to my own?

  Nope. None of that. Things are hard because they’re new. Change is hard when we lack the familiar. But how can we change if we cling to what’s always been?

  I lift the mug, tipping my head back to get the last of the lukewarm tea when the doorbell rings. Deidre calls out as she makes her way toward the entrance. “That’ll be your father, honey.”

  It occurs to me that I never gave her my name.

  I hear the welcome rumble of my father’s voice mingled with Deidre’s cheery tones. My chest tightens, and the tears threaten to make an encore.

  “Lace,” Dad sighs as he enters the small, homely kitchen. “Thank, God.”

  I rise from my seat and fall into his embrace, relishing the warmth of his body as I melt into his Merino-knit jumper. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey,” he coos, smoothing the hair atop my head. “None of that.”

  “You take as long as you need,” Deidre offers. “I’ll be outside hanging my washing.”

  “Thank you.” Dad twists slightly to address her. “We won’t overstay our welcome.”

  “Nonsense.” She waves a hand at him, barely visible over Dad’s thick arm cradling me to him. “Let the girl’s tea settle, and then push on.”

  I slide from Dad’s embrace as Deidre makes her way outdoors, and lift the empty mug to set it in the sink. “She said Colt told you.”

  Dad gives the vacant seat at the table an indecisive look, and nods. “Yes. He rang.” He flinches. “I didn’t know, sweetheart. I had no idea what’s been going on.”

  “I figured.” I resume my spot at the table to give him the permission he needs to take a load off. “How much did Colt explain?”

  Dad sits, releasing a sigh. “About the bullying at Riverbourne since you’ve both been back, that your mother has sent you to a therapist, and that you were suspended over an incident you had no prior knowledge of.”

  I don’t stretch my luck and ask if he knows what the “incident” was, exactly. “I guess that’s it in a nutshell.”

  “He said you could tell me why you left the house though.” He swallows, clearly struggling to hold my eye. “Why she told you to leave, I should say.”

  The grain in the timber tabletop curls back on itself, a perfect focus for my tired mind as I trace the swirls with a fingertip. “I said some things I shouldn’t have. Well …” I roll my eyes. “They needed to be said; it was how I said them.”

  “It seems the approach perhaps wasn’t the best.” He reaches out and taps the back of my hand. “But I’m glad you did. Otherwise, I may never have known what you were enduring.” He shakes his head, messy dark locks tumbling over his forehead. “I feel so terrible for not knowing. It was my responsibility as your father to be more present and I—”

  “Dad. Stop.” I flip my hand and capture his as he pulls it away. “This isn’t your fault either and, to be honest, it’s not the end of the world, is it?”

  “No. It’s not.” He gives squeezes my palm and then lets go. “We’ll have to figure out how you’ll get to and from school since I’ll be at work, but you’re old enough to be at home alone when I’m not there.” He frowns. “I need you to promise me that I can trust you, Lacey. If you come home with me, we need to work together, as a team. Can I count on you to be honest and open with me?”

  I nod. “That’s all I want.”

  I’m done with lies and deception, manipulation and trickery. I want to enjoy the final years of school, just being a kid. I don’t want to look back on this when I’m grown up and regret not having fun while I still could without the burden of bills and a job and all that adult stuff.

  Only I want my brother there to do it with me.

  “Good.” Dad softens into a smile, leaning back in the dining chair. “I’ll pop out and say thank you to Deidre and then we can go, okay?”

  “Okay.” I nod. “Let me say thanks as well. I thought perhaps we could send her a small gift later in the week, or something?”

  “That’s the Lacey that I know.” His smile widens. “Gracious and thoughtful.”

  “Exactly as you’ve taught me to be.” I smile.

  If only he knew what I’d done to get in with the Chosen my first year at Riverbourne. I would never have been Daddy’s little girl.

  And he wouldn’t be here to save me now.

  Deep down we’re all a little twisted and impure.

  TUCK

  “Give it time,” Maggie said when I didn’t get any more updates from Colt yesterday. She’d rolled her goddamn eyes at me before dropping into her car and said, “If she was in danger, I’m sure we would have heard about it by now.”

  Small comfort, but I guess she had a point.

  I turn Major toward the school, rounding the corner to find Johnson’s truck parked out front already. Fuck it. I can’t be arsed dealing with his attitude. Not when I feel as though I teeter the line of sanity, I feel so damn helpless.

  I almost bunked school today and took a drive into Riverbourne. Except I remembered that not only is the Hilux out of diesel, same as the farm tank until the delivery gets done today, but one more unexplained absence and my next suspension is just as likely to be an expulsion.

  Fucking rules.

  Johnson leans on the front of his truck, elbows behind him, as I approach. His bitch, Amber, slides from her position reclined against the windscreen, down the hood to slip her legs either side of him. Ed looks up from the conversation, tossing a finger in the air to say hello. I give him a nod, trying my best to ignore the way Amber links her legs around Johnson’s chest possessively.

  The guy’s stuck in a fucking trap, and I don’t know if he’s too blind to see it or chooses to be ignorant of the situation.

  Major’s ears prick up, his head lifting before I hear the steady gait of Beau and Black Betty behind us.

  “You not stopping?” Beau glances down at the trio as we ride past.

  I keep up Major’s steady pace toward the school gates. “Nope.”

  “Hey, man.” Beau twists to greet Ed. His brow pinches as he turns to face forward again. “What’s up with the incestuous duo?”

  “Still sore about Saturday, I bet.”

  “Speaking of.” He fidgets with the brim of his hat. “Heard from the girls?”

  “Girls?” I cock an eyebrow.

&nbs
p; Beau shrugs, a cheeky grin twisting his mouth.

  “I got an update from Colt yesterday morning, but nothing since.” I smirk, bopping one eyebrow. “No mention about Greer, though.”

  “My fucking brother actually took her to his event yesterday.” Beau scowls, slowing Betty to let Major and me through the narrow side gate first.

  I wait for them to catch up on the cobbled path. “Why are you asking me about Greer, then?”

  “You think I’m going to tell that arsehole I’m keen on her?” Beau scoffs. “Jerk would have a bit of her just to spite me.”

  “Your brotherly love amazes me, as usual,” I quip. “Just ask him. He won’t be interested in someone our age anyway. Probably just took her to rile you up.”

  “Maybe.” Beau still frowns. “You think you could ask Lacey for her number?”

  “How?” I deadpan. “She’s banned from any communication with the outside world, remember?”

  “True.”

  We ride in silence, students moving all around us as they arrive for the first class of the day. A group of girls cross the path in front of us, their apparent leader looking up to give us both a smile.

  I recognise her from our first year but fucked if I’d know what her name is now.

  “Things are back no normal, hey?” Beau asks, nodding toward the girl.

  “Maybe for them.” I note the disappointed look on the chick’s face when she turns away to her friends. “It’s all new for our group, though, isn’t it?”

  “Things have been changing for a while. You have to admit that.” Beau rests a hand on the horn of his saddle. “Amber’s been working Johnson for the past year. I think with all this shit going down in Riverbourne she saw her opportunity to steal him for herself.”

  “Why, though?” I honestly don’t understand how girl groups work. “She’s isolating herself from her friends too. Where’s the benefit in that?”

  “Somewhere none of us want to be when she’s collecting,” Beau jests before poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek.

  “She’s got to know some good tricks for Johnson to put up with it,” I point out.

  Beau tips his head to one side, eyes narrowing. “Maybe that’s it.”

  “What’s what?”

  “If we want to get our mate back, we need to show him he doesn’t need her to get his end away.”

  “You’re suggesting we get him another girl?”

  He slowly nods as we turn onto the access road at the rear of the school. “Not just any girl, though. She has to have something he wants or needs. Some perk.”

  I sigh. “What the fuck does he need, though? He has everything; his daddy makes sure of that.”

  The rumble of bike engines grows louder behind us. Beau twists in the saddle, same as I do, and gives a nod to Mandy and Cate when they idle past. He wags a finger in their direction when they pull away ahead of us.

  “He doesn’t have independence.”

  “How do you mean? He does what he wants.”

  “Within reason. Johnson won’t do anything his old man will take offence to, because he needs that income stream.”

  “You want to find him a sugar-mama?” I snort.

  “Sugar-babe.” Beau grins. “Out of all the girls at Arcadia, he chooses Amber. So, we take the search outside of town.”

  “Fuck my life.” I slide off Major and hitch him to the stable’s outer wall while I prepare his stall for the day. “You seriously think that’ll solve our problems?”

  Beau shrugs before doing the same. “Worth a try, right? I’m sure there’s a nice proper girl in the city there who wants a burly bad boy to piss her old man off.”

  “Fuck, you’re twisted.”

  “Can’t hurt to try. I mean we’ll be spending enough time in the city anyway, won’t we?”

  I hesitate, my hand on the tap to the water trough. “You’re telling the story.”

  “You mean to tell me you’re going to let the shit those jerks did to Lacey slide?”

  “Not exactly.” I narrow my gaze on him. “But I want to keep whatever it is we do small and targeted. We don’t need another goddamn war on our hands.”

  “Did the last one even end?” He asks. “Mags said you were talking to Mandy about stuff. I figured you’d talk to me sooner or later.”

  Cloudy creek water flows into the trough. “Did she now?”

  “So?”

  “So?” I echo.

  “What’s the plan, boss? Who do we fuck over first?”

  I chuckle. “You better ask Mandy that.”

  “Ask me what?” The girl in question appears from around the end of the building, Cate in her wake.

  “You got a hit list for Arcadia?” Beau asks, undoing the straps on Betty’s saddle.

  Mandy sets her hands on her hips. “Is this what you wanted to talk about yesterday, Tuck?”

  “Maybe.” I smirk. “You interested?”

  She grins. “If I’d known the conversation would be this good, I would have blown off the family barbecue and come seen you.”

  “So?” Beau prompts. “Do you?”

  She turns to grin at Cate, who smiles back at her. “Of course I do.”

  GREER

  Every step we take into the main foyer, the higher the odds of detonation. The Chosen haven’t gathered as a whole since the events of Saturday night, and if the boys are anything like us girls, communication has hit a dead patch also.

  “You can loosen your grip on my arm,” Arthur urges. “I won’t fly away if you do.”

  I paste on an apologetic smile and ease the tension. “No. But you may still find yourself out of control.” Especially when he sees Colt in five, four, three, two—

  “Williams.”

  —one.

  “Rutherford”. Colt slams his locker closed, head down while he avoids eye contact.

  I tighten my grip. The anger radiating from Arthur is so damn intense that I swear every student in a twelve-foot radius has figured out they should scram.

  “Good to see you, Colt.” I smile in a way that I hope conveys both honesty and apology.

  “Where’s your sister?” Arthur bites. “Surprised you haven’t got her on guard for you today.”

  I wonder if he knows about the suspension and aims to stir, or if he’s genuinely curious.

  “Your precious Libby didn’t tell you?” Colt studies Arthur a moment before choosing to answer anyway. “She’s not allowed at school until the legal issues with Gayle clear up.”

  Arthur chokes back a laugh.

  “What do you mean legal issues?” How estranged am I from my friend these days? Not so long ago, I would have been the first to know something this important.

  The fact that Lacey chose to omit this little fact from our discussion on Saturday night? It hurts.

  “Gayle’s parents are suing Lacey and Libby over the tattoo incident.” Colt glares at Arthur. “How strange that your girlfriend never mentioned her suspension to you.”

  Arthur bristles beside me. “I’m sure she would have if you’d let her take her fucking mouth off your dick long enough.”

  My forearm aches with the hold I have on him.

  “Not my fault that’s where she’s most comfortable.”

  “Colt!” I add a second arm to the embrace with Arthur.

  “Love to stay and apologise, Greer,” Colt sasses, “but I was leaving.” He spins and storms toward first period.

  “He’s fucking dead,” Arthur grumbles. “If he thinks he can strut around here like he’s done no wrong…”

  I pat his bicep before letting go. “Now, now. It takes two to tango. No need to lump all your rage on one half of the guilty party, right?”

  He smirks, as though impressed, while I switch out the contents of my Prada tote with what’s waiting in my locker.

  “How is Libby?” I ask over my shoulder. “She didn’t return my message yesterday.” Not that I expected any less.

  Arthur snorts, hands slung in his trouser p
ockets while he leans on the locker beside mine. “She’s laying low while she licks her wounds.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “You expect me to believe she’s anything less than proud of her ability to have two boys duelling to the death over her?”

  “It’s not the affair she’s embarrassed about.” He regards me for a moment. “She feels threatened.” His gaze roams the length of me. “I thought that was why she chose not to come today; to strategize.”

  I ignore the kick racing through my veins. “Threatened why what?”

  Arthur smirks. “Not what. Who.”

  “Me?” I set a hand to my throat.

  “You challenged her at Christian’s,” Arthur states. “You showed the commoners that you aren’t afraid of her. How do you think that makes her feel when she’s supposed to be the most feared and revered of them all?”

  “Angry?” I shrug one shoulder.

  “Powerless.” He smiles. “If you don’t fear her, then how can she control anyone?”

  I slowly shut the locker door; my palm still rested against the sleek surface. “Do tell me, dear Archie. Why does this power-struggle amuse you? You seem awfully at ease with me if I truly am such a thorn in your girlfriend’s side.”

  “Because what use do I have for her now, other than entertainment?”

  He leaves me with my jaw on the floor, and an illicit thrill humming inside.

  Our queen? Threatened by me? Perhaps the tables have turned. And if she’s not here for the next however long, then the lack of intel must drive her over the edge.

  At least, she won’t hear anything from me. Which only leaves Ingrid.

  I give our third amigo a wary eye as I approach first period Classics. She still milks the ankle injury for all its worth, taking her time to enter the class and making all the commoners move out of her way before a selected individual pulls out her seat.

  She was always the quietest and the meekest of us all. Her name put her in the position she holds, not her desires. But since Lacey first left, our ugly duckling has grown and my what a swan she pretences to be.

  “Ingy,” I singsong while I take my seat beside her. “You snuck away on Saturday before I could say goodbye.”

  Her amber irises flash, lips carefully fashioned into an appropriate smile. “With how much was going down, I’m not surprised you missed me. I thought it best to stay with Libby after what happened with Arthur.”