Not My Hero: Black Mountain Academy
Page 4
A terrified breath shudders over my dry lips.
I can’t believe Colton was here.
Like things weren’t bad enough. How did he even know where I lived?
She’s going to freak out.
I don’t have time to wonder about his sudden appearance or what trouble it caused me because my mother slams my door open. My heart sets off at a maddening pace.
There’s a cruel sneer around her lips as her eyes lock on me, then she snaps, “Who was that?”
“Just a boy…” I sputter. “From school.”
She stalks closer until her breaths waft over my face. “He’s trash. I won’t have you slander my name by screwing someone like him.”
My body trembles, and I’m filled with desperate anguish. I squeeze my eyes shut and draw a little back, but it only makes her grab hold of my arm.
Her nails dig into my skin as she hisses, “That boy better not come here again, or they’ll find you at the bottom of Devil’s Bluff.”
My chin begins to tremble from holding back the tears. I bite my bottom lip hard and nod.
“You hear me!” she shouts. “Make sure he stays away.”
“I-I… will,” I stammer, beside myself with fear.
Letting go of my arm, she walks back to the door. Absentmindedly, I rub over my arm where it hurts.
She glances back at me, a cruel gleam in her eyes. “The next time you shower for longer than five minutes, I’ll drown you.”
I cower a step back.
She lets out a dark sounding chuckle. “Your lookalike might have survived, but I promise you, you won’t. Don’t push me.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I whisper, just wanting her to leave.
She slams the door shut, and I wait a couple of minutes before I sink down on the edge of my bed.
The emotions from tonight gush to the surface, and no matter how hard I fight to keep them in, tears spill over my cheeks.
Why?
Why is life so hard?
Why did I get her for a mother?
I cover my mouth with my hands to smother the cry. Sinking down to the floor, I bring my knees to my chest and huddle in a small ball.
I can’t do this anymore.
I don’t want to live if this is all my life is ever going to be.
I just… can’t.
Nothing in life is worth all this pain.
The sound of my phone pinging yanks me out of the dark pit of despair. I climb to my feet and pick up the device where it’s lying next to my bed.
There’s a message from an unknown number. Tapping on the screen, my lips part as I read the text.
‘When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on.’ – Franklin D. Roosevelt.
Remember to add my number to your contact list. I meant what I said, call if you need anything. My house is number 29. Colton.
Shock shudders through me.
Holy crap, the quotes were from Colton?
I stand frozen for the longest time, reading the words again and again, but they only make confusion rattle through me.
Why would Colton message me? Or come to my house?
An awful thought creeps into the back of my mind.
Maybe he’s pretending to be friendly, and once I let my guard down, he’ll hurt me, just like Sully and Michael.
“Why is your light still on?” Mom yells as she walks by my room. I rush to the switch and turn off the light. Standing in the dark, I worry my bottom lip, listening to the sounds on the other side of the door. When I hear her’s slam shut, I let out a relieved breath and climb in bed. I reread the message.
It’s probably a prank.
It won’t be the first time. During my junior year, Danny Gordon pretended to be interested in me. I fell for it, and everyone laughed at me.
I don’t want to go through that again.
Walking into English, I keep my head down and grip my sketchpad tightly.
I sit down and let my long hair fall between the class and me. When I hear Colton sit down at his desk, I cringe closer to the wall.
I’ve been dreading this moment all morning. Usually, I’m on the lookout for Sully or Michael, but not today. Not knowing what Colton’s intentions are, has my stomach knotted with nerves.
Mrs. Ramsey begins with the lesson, and I itch to work on my sketch, but not wanting to draw Colton’s attention to me, I keep as still as I can.
I’ve been replaying last night over in my mind, and I just can’t understand why he came to my house, or how he even knew where I lived.
And the quotes? Do they have a double meaning I’m missing? Are they threats?
I need to read them again. My knee starts to jump under the table as the minutes slowly tick by. When the bell finally rings, my nerves are shredded.
I grab my stuff and run out of the class. I dart into the nearest restroom and hide in the first available stall.
I dig through my bag for the two quotes, and my eyes race over the words.
Is he saying he’s going to make me feel inferior? That I should fear him? I open the text, and a frown forms on my forehead.
I don’t get it.
Feeling miserably apprehensive, I shove the scraps of paper back in my bag. I have to get to class. The last thing I need right now is detention for being late.
I make it in the nick of time and take my seat. Mr. Matthews begins droning on about things I’ll never understand.
Math feels twice as long, and after getting next to no sleep last night and all the worry, it’s hard to keep my eyes open. I rest my forehead on the palm of my hand and spend the entire lesson alternating between dozing off and jerking awake.
A hand shakes my shoulder, and my eyes fly open. I dart up and squeeze my body against the wall.
“Class is over,” Colton says, then he walks up the aisle.
It’s only then I notice everyone is leaving. I gather my stuff while willing my heartbeat to slow down.
At this rate, I’ll die of a heart attack long before I can end things myself.
COLTON
Brie’s a mess, and it makes me worry that I made things worse for her at home.
The way she reacted when I woke her after math has been haunting me all day long. Growing up with an abusive father, I’ve felt my fair share of fear and saw it living in Brady’s eyes every day, but the look on Brie’s face… that was something else.
When I take my seat in history, I tear a page from my notebook and write the math homework down for Brie, in case she didn’t get it. Folding the paper in half, I stretch over and place it on Brie’s desk.
Her eyes dart to me for a split-second before they turn to the paper, staring at it as if it’s a snake. She sucks in a deep breath then reads it. A frown forms on her forehead, and she seems confused.
Maybe she struggles with math?
Mr. Donati walks down the aisle, dropping the graded papers on our desks. When he gets to mine, he says, “Great essay, Colton. Come see me after class.”
I expected as much. I nod, and when he moves on to the next aisle, I glance at the A+ in bold red at the top of the paper, but it offers me no satisfaction.
An A+ for the hell I went through.
A bitter sigh escapes my lips.
An A+ for Brady killing himself.
I’ll never understand how things work in this world.
My gaze drifts over to Brie’s desk, and I see she got a B- right before she slips the paper under her sketchpad.
Once Mr. Donati is done handing back all the essays, he gives us our homework for the day then starts with the lesson.
Brie’s knee starts to jump under her desk, and it once again distracts me. I turn my head slightly in her direction and see that she’s tense as hell. There so much anxiety pouring off of her.
I remember feeling like that, knowing the school day was at an end, and I had to go home and face him.
An overwhelming need to help her grows in my chest.
The bell rings, and I’m ripped back to the pr
esent. I gather my stuff and make my way to the front of the class while the other students clear out.
Mr. Donati waits until we’re alone, then he takes a seat on the edge of his desk and smiles at me. I’ve heard the girls talking, and I’m pretty sure half the class has a crush on him.
“How are you holding up?” he asks.
“I’m fine,” I give the automatic response everyone expects.
His blue eyes sharpen on me as he nods, and it gives me the impression he sees right through the lie. “My door is open any time you need to talk, Colton.”
“Thanks.”
I turn away to leave, but then he says, “None of that should have happened. I’m sorry it did.”
His words hit so hard, I struggle to get air into my lungs. It’s the first time anyone said sorry, and I didn’t expect the words to hurt so much.
It’s because they’re from the wrong person.
I nod and rush out of the class. I need to be alone, so I can shove all the emotions back down from where they’re creeping out of the darkest parts of me.
As soon as I step out of the building, someone grabs the paper out of my hand.
“What do we have here?” Michael says, an egotistical smirk plastered on his face as he begins to read my essay out loud, “I chose history because it’s easy.” He lets out a bark of laughter and gives me a condescending look. “Wow, I think my IQ dropped from reading that,” he taunts.
The second his eyes turn back to the paper, I lunge forward. I grab the essay back, and at the same time, my fist connects with his jaw.
I do my best to avoid violence because I fucking abhor it. Still, for this parasite, I’m willing to make an exception.
Michael falls to the side from the blow and grips his jaw as he climbs back to his feet. He lets out a chuckle that sounds more like a warning. “Now you’ve pissed me off.”
Stepping into his personal space, I growl. “I already have blood on my hands. Want me to add yours as well?” I see the hesitation creep into his eyes and spit out, “You’re nothing but a joke.”
Mr. Donati comes out, and I expect to be sent to the office, but instead, he snaps, “Break it up, guys. Go home.”
I bump my shoulder against Michael’s as I push by him and clench my jaw while I fight to regain control over the rage boiling in my chest.
Climbing into my truck, I throw my bag and the essay on the passenger seat. Slamming a hand against the steering wheel, I let out a frustrated growl.
I shouldn’t have hit him. I should’ve kept calm.
But I lost my shit just like my father.
God, I don’t want to be like him.
The taste of regret and shame is bitter in the back of my throat, and I shut my eyes as I suck in a deep breath.
I’d rather die than become a monster.
The rest of the week is tiring as fuck. Michael has zero survival instincts because the parasite keeps looking to start shit with me.
I gained another enemy because I stepped in to help Brie when a guy named Sully was giving her trouble. It’s done nothing to silence the rumors. Most of the students have made up their minds that I’m a psycho, and I’ll most likely end up murdering Michael or Sully as well.
Can’t say I’m not tempted by the idea, but all I really want is to be left alone.
“Hey, asshole!” Sully calls from the end of the hallway.
Knowing he’s probably referring to me, I grab my English book from the locker and slam the door shut.
Sully catches up to me and throws his arm around my shoulders. “How’s my favorite asshole today?”
I shrug his arm off, but the guy is like a fucking tick because he nudges his shoulder against mine. “Come on, no hard feelings. Let’s be friends.”
Yeah, I need him as a friend as much as I need to be castrated. “Ain’t gonna happen,” I grumble as I walk into the classroom.
“Sure?”
I sit down and drop the book on the desk. Sully comes to stand by my desk. “Last chance.”
I slant my eyes up, giving him a fuck off and die look.
He shrugs. “Your loss.”
Brie sits down, and it catches Sully’s attention. He begins to squeeze past the front of my desk, and knowing he’s probably going to pick on her, I shove my desk forward, and it sends Sully stumbling into the chair in front of me.
The class bursts out laughing, and I lean a little forward. “Oops. My bad.”
“Settle down,” Mrs. Ramsey calls out.
“You’re dead,” Sully snarls before he walks to his desk.
“Heard that shit before,” I mutter. I pull the book I’m reading from my bag. I finished The Art Of War, and I have to say, it’s helped a lot in dealing with Michael and Sully.
I’m now reading Unbroken, and damn, what Louis Zamperini went through is unthinkable but also encouraging. Knowing that he survived against all odds gives me hope.
Mrs. Ramsey comes down the aisle, handing back our graded work.
She stops at my desk and looks at the book, then says, “Another good one. I have a couple I can recommend if you’re interested?”
“Sure.”
My reply makes her smile, then she adds, “Keep up the good work.”
I haven’t received much praise in my life, and it causes a foreign sensation to spread through my chest.
Chapter 5
BRIE
The past week has actually been… nice. I finally got my wish because the past couple of days, I’ve been invisible, and it’s been amazing.
Michael, Sully, and Colton have been too busy picking fights with each other to pay any unwanted attention to me. It’s been an enormous relief.
All the rumors I hear between classes are about Colton and not about me, but he doesn’t seem to care at all.
I wish I could be like him and just not bother with what people do or think.
Maybe one day.
My mother left for LA yesterday to visit my grandparents. I’ve never met them, but I’m so grateful for the reprieve it’s offered me.
But my mother will be back tomorrow.
I let out a sigh as I walk into school. I’m soaking wet from the rain pouring outside and need to get to my locker for the dry uniform so I can change before class.
My foot hooks against something, and unable to catch myself, I sprawl over the floor.
Laughter explodes around me as I scramble to sit up and make sure my skirt covers everything.
“Weinstock, you gotta watch where you’re walking,” Sully chuckles.
Ugh… I knew it wouldn’t last.
A hand appears in my line of sight, and glancing up, I see it belongs to Colton.
Yeah, sure. I’m not falling for that trick.
With my luck, he’ll yank away as soon as I reach for it. Ignoring him, I climb to my feet and straighten the wet fabric of my skirt that’s clinging to my legs.
Colton picks up my bag, and apprehension bleeds into my chest. He holds it out, and as I reach for the strap, my eyes dart to his face. He glares at me and shakes his head. “Stop letting them walk all over you,” he grumbles before he stalks toward Sully.
I don’t stick around to hear what they have to say to each other because my face is on fire with embarrassment, and I just want to get away from them.
No one asked him to interfere, and then he makes me feel like I’m an annoyance?
His comment actually hurt. It reminds me of all the times my mother has told me to grow a spine and stop being a zombie.
If only they knew how hard it is because whenever I stood up for myself in the past, it only made them all more aggressive.
“Damn, Brie,” Lindy, one of the cheerleaders, calls out, “looks like your mother tried to drown you.”
Her friends snicker as I rush past them. Stopping at my locker, I quickly open it and pull the bag with dry clothes out. When I shut the door and turn to walk away, Lindy blocks my way.
Her eyes scan over me with a look of disdain. “If
you ask my opinion, the likes of you shouldn’t be allowed to attend Black Mountain Academy.”
I didn’t ask.
“I noticed a couple of new outcasts joined this year, but it doesn’t look like any of them wants to be your friend. Doesn’t it suck being so unpopular?”
I keep my eyes trained on the floor, and taking a step to the side, I walk around her.
Then she calls out, “I hear your mom crawled back to your grandfather to beg for more money.”
“Yeah, my mom works at the bank. She said your mom is broke,” one of her friends joins in.
Pin prickles of shame break out over my skin, and I walk faster to get away from the taunting.
“Once a murdering leech, always a murdering leech, I guess,” Lindy continues. “Ooooh, wait,” she chuckles behind me, “she tried to drown you because you’re so damn morbid, right?” Laughter echoes behind me. “Can’t blame her.”
I dart into the restroom, and when I’m safely in a stall, I stand frozen for a moment, sucking in desperate breaths of air.
They’re just words, Brie.
Yeah? But it still hurts.
COLTON
Instead of picking fights with me, Sully and Michael have turned their focus back on Brie, and it aggravates the ever-loving shit out of me.
I wish she would tell them to back off, but instead, she lets them do whatever they want.
Somehow they caught onto the fact that I’m protective of Brie, and I think they’re back to targeting her to get a reaction from me. It’s either that or they’ve given up with getting me all riled up because I don’t give a fuck. I’m still trying to figure out which it is.
The reason actually doesn’t make a difference because watching Brie take hit after hit only to cower away brings back a shit-ton of memories from the past.
“You fucking idiot! Why are you always in the way?” Dad hollers, and a slap echoes through the house.
Shit.
I shoot up from where I was sitting on the bed, putting on my shoes, and rush out of the room. Brady’s cowering in the bathroom doorway with Dad all up in his face.
“I’m tired of your shit,” Dad rages and delivers another slap to the side of Brady’s head.