F*ck You: Knox Academy - Term One

by Jaye Cox

  “Well, the building itself is in pretty poor shape,” I joke. “The headmaster, Dad, pays his teachers really well to ensure the pupils get the best education possible, but also as an incentive for them to stay. They’re not exactly teaching the most enthusiastic pupils, you know?” She nods. “Some parents pay generously to send their kids to Knox, but there’s also a lot of charity kids there too. They’ve often been taken in as a last resort to keep them out of jail. Almost everyone is eighteen or older, so they could serve time in a state prison, rather than a juvenile facility, and Dad is keen to avoid that. He uses a lot of funds posting bail too.”

  “That sounds pretty philanthropic of him,” she responds with a slight disbelieving frown.

  “I know. It’s kind of hard to believe there’s people out there decent enough to operate like that, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she says quietly, disappearing off into her own thoughts for a moment. I wait patiently and she soon comes back. “So, tell me about these tattoos,” she adds, stroking a finger along my exposed arm which is covered in a full colour sleeve of ink. She pauses to outline the Celtic knot tattoo that’s on the inside of my forearm, absentmindedly tracing the patterns around. It sends shivers up my arm, but I don’t talk about that tattoo.

  “Ah well, that’s kind of connected to the teaching,” I chuckle.

  “How so? You don’t normally see teachers with this much ink.”

  “Well, we’ve already established that I had a troubled past. When I was younger I had a group of much older friends. One of them was a tattooist. Every time I did some stupid shit, I got ink to mark the occasion.” I shake my head at my idiocy. “When I came good, there was a lot of shame over the ink that I wore, and I wanted it gone.”

  “So, you got a coverup?”

  “No. I made myself earn it. I didn’t want to just hide my past, so every time I did a good deed, I got a small piece of work done to cover part of the old. Eventually I ended up with this,” I hold out my arm and pull the sleeve of my t-shirt up so that she can see it in full. “It serves as a reminder for me.”

  “That’s…” She seems lost for words. Her fingers tentatively reach out and trace the colourful design across my arm. I rotate it so she can see the underside design and her touch ignites goose bumps all along my skin. “Are they all gone now? The old ones, I mean.”

  “Almost,” I tell her sadly. “Not everything can be atoned for so easily.”

  Whoa that got heavy, fast. To lighten the mood I decide to entertain her with some of the more harmless stupid shit I did when I was younger. She laughs and giggles at everything I tell her, but it’s an easy, genuine joyful sound. Not someone who’s simply trying to flirt or get in my good graces. I like it. I like her.

  Some time, and several drinks later, my phone buzzes. I see a message flash up on the screen from Jessica. I read it quickly and see that she’s seriously pissed. Why is she mad at me? She was the no-show. I rattle off a quick reply and then my phone starts to ring. I silence it. I don’t want to speak to her, or hear her excuses about her car, or being at the wrong location.

  “It’s getting late,” Amelie says when I slam my phone down on the table. I can hear the sad reluctance in her voice. I feel the same. I’m not ready for the evening to end either. “I should go.”

  “You could stay,” I blurt out impulsively, knowing that the pub has rooms.

  “Thanks, but I do have to get home.” She smiles easily as she gives the rebuff. “But maybe we can do this again?”

  “Sure. Give me your number,” I reply, pulling out my phone and quickly saving her digits as she rattles them off. As she stands to leave, I join her and silently walk her out.

  Once we’re outside the pub, she leans back for a moment against the rough brick wall. I unlock my car and as the headlights flash, her eyes light up.

  “Nice car!” She beams.

  “Really?” I ask in disbelief. Everyone’s always getting at me for driving a rust bucket, but it’s a classic and I love it.

  “Absolutely! She’s a beauty. Are you restoring her?”

  I smile at the way Amelie immediately personifies my car, makes it female and in need of TLC.

  “That’s the plan. I’m not getting very far at the moment. Sometimes I wonder if I should cut my losses and trade it in for something more reliable,” I confess.

  “Don’t you dare! I would kill to restore a car like this. Don’t give up on her. She’ll be patient and wait for you, so long as you don’t let her down.”

  It’s kind of sweet how adamant she is that I stick with the car, and I find myself being persuaded to do exactly as she says. I smile when I consider Jessica’s juxtaposing attitude towards my choice in transport.

  “Can I give you a ride?” I offer and she grins at my inadvertent innuendo, then shakes her head.

  “I live so close by, I can be home before you’ve even got your seatbelt on,” she jokes.

  “Okay,” I stall, wondering what to say. I don’t want her to go. Fuck it. I know what I want to do.

  I move in front of her and as she starts to push off from the wall, I gently press her back up against it. My lips descend on hers and capture them easily between my own. She makes no sound or move to protest, so that gives me the green light to go ahead and kiss her. I’ve been wanting to all night, so the only thing that would stop me at this point is if she pushed me away.

  Her hands come up to tangle in the front of my t-shirt, but she doesn’t push, she pulls me in closer. When our chests meet she gives a soft little sigh and opens her mouth to deepen the kiss. I slide my tongue into her mouth, loving how she tastes of bourbon and not a sickly-sweet sugary cocktail. She meets my kiss with enthusiasm, arms coming up to lock around my neck. I love how she has to rise up on her tiptoes to meet me.

  I decide to give her a hand. I grab her waist and hoist her up against me, before moving my hands to cup and squeeze her shapely ass. I’m vaguely aware, as she wraps her legs around my waist and hooks her ankles together, that this is no longer a polite goodnight kiss. We’re making out against the pub in plain sight of anyone who comes by. And I don’t give a shit. My dick stirs and hardens as Amelie begins to grind against me. I wish she was wearing a skirt. That way I could easily check if she’s as turned on by me as I am by her.

  I break away from her lips, but remain close, determined to go back for more. We’re both breathing hard, and where we’re pressed against one another so closely, our chests touch with every exhale, like a carefully choreographed dance.

  I kiss my way along her jaw, and bite lightly at her throat as I make my way down it. She moans again and my hard dick jerks in response. Fuck, I wish she wasn’t leaving.

  “Well...that was…” she stammers.

  “Yeah,” I add. I’m seconds away from begging her to reconsider spending the night with me.

  “So…” she stalls.

  “I’ll text you. We should do this again,” I say. I mean the whole evening, not just the kiss, but she laughs.

  “Count me in.” She smirks.

  She leans forward, gives me a quick peck on the cheek and then slides out from between the wall and my body. “Goodnight, Sawyer,” she calls as she disappears into the darkness.

  I head over to my car, get in and start her up. I pause for a moment and then run my hand gently over the top of the dashboard. “Have a little patience with me,” I say out loud to the car. I don’t feel as stupid talking to...her...as I expected. I smile, glad to have taken Amelie’s advice, and begin the drive back to the Academy. The whole way home, I’m thinking about that kiss and how soon I can see Amelie again.

  Chapter Five

  I’m rudely and suddenly woken from a dream of joy riding with Aadi and Smalls, by a strange shrill noise that seems to be drilling into my skull.

  “Susan, shut the fuck up!” I yell a moment later when I realise where the God-awful sound is coming from. She doesn’t listen though, so I roll over and hit snooze on my alarm.

  T
hat doesn’t stop her though. What the fuck? I sit up, and angrily stab at the screen until it finally – thankfully – falls silent. I peer at the screen, bleary eyed and see Susan cheerily informing me that it’s 5am and I have detention in less than an hour. Fuck that. It’s fucking Saturday and I thought Kalen was joking! Who in their right mind would give that idiot the power to issue detentions? Where was the warning, the second chance, the stern talking to that usually comes first?

  Susan continues to go off when I ignore her alarm and I wonder how I get her to shut up. She must be waiting for the inbuilt GPS to register my movement towards the detention location. What did Elsie say? Be at the back sports oval by 6am?

  I quickly bring up the school map and happily see that my bedroom window looks out towards the sports oval she was talking about. Easy.

  I get out of bed, cross to the window and open it. I then pick Susan up, apologise to her, and fling her as far out of the bedroom window as I can. I have no idea if it works, but when I slam the window shut, it doesn’t matter because I can no longer hear her. Hallelujah!

  I climb back into bed, roll over, and promptly fall back to sleep.

  ***

  Banging wakes me from my slumber. What the hell’s a girl got to do to have a little sleep around here? I pull the covers up over my head and hope whoever is on the other side of the door gets the memo.

  “Open up Amelie, I know you’re in there.” I sigh with relief; it’s Elsie. I was expecting it to be Kalen or the twins coming to force me to go to detention.

  I reluctantly roll out of bed and stomp to the door, swinging it open to find an overly peppy Elsie staring back at me. She smiles and lets herself into my room.

  “I went to spring you from detention but imagine my surprise when you were not there.”

  “Were you really surprised that I wasn’t there?” I say closing the door.

  “Only you would skip a detention with Mr Knox.” She laughs, shaking her head as she makes my bed.

  “Are you really making my bed?”

  “Yes, if the only thing you do in a day is make your bed, at least you can say you accomplished something.”

  “Or...I could get back in it and say I accomplished sleeping all day.”

  “Nonsense, get dressed, we are going for breakfast.”

  I throw on an oversized hoodie and a long pair of yoga pants and run my fingers through my hair. “Done.” Elsie looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “It’s breakfast Elsie, not a fashion parade.”

  She shrugs and we walk to the dining hall together. Back home, a strong black coffee was the breakfast of champions. I hope to get some today. I can’t imagine a school for criminals banning coffee; there would be complete and utter carnage.

  Without Susan, I have to rely on following Elsie. One thing I have never been good at is directions; I could turn left into a street and still not know how to find my way out. Which really made it hard, running from trouble. Hiding usually worked well in those circumstances though.

  We walk side by side and Elsie talks about everything she has planned for the day, I only catch ‘makeover’ and ‘library’. I tune out after that.

  I wonder what Aadi and Smalls would be doing right now. It would be about six at night. Smalls would probably be fixing up someone’s car, Aadi would be telling him to hurry up and get dressed so they could head out and get pissed. I’m going to miss hanging out with the guys, drinking and getting into trouble. Smalls would death-glare any guy that even looked my way, and Aadi would just laugh when I had a tantrum about never getting laid. I always had to be sneaky about spending time with guys. Anyone that came near me really had to have a death wish. If Smalls found out, he’d make sure they never walked again. Helped my cause somewhat because I never wanted a permanent guy; no one could ever measure up to the connection I have with Smalls.

  He’s my ride or die. It’s fucked, I miss them so damn much that my chest physically aches. I wonder if I can find a way for them to visit me? I doubt I’d get away with four return airline tickets on the new step-daddy’s credit card...but I’ll save that thought for when I get really desperate.

  I take a mental note to find a way to make my own money; there has to be a way to scam some of these rich pricks out of their money. I just have to think about it. Four grand would cover the cost of flights but I doubt the incubator would host. I’m good at manipulating people, so it might pay to see how far I can push step-daddy to see if I can get him to agree. I just have to figure out what his deal is, I’m not stupid enough to believe this whole saint who saves kids bullshit. I just don’t get that vibe from him. Where I come from, reading a person accurately can be the difference between life and death.

  I wouldn’t say that we have gangs...they may like to label themselves that, but it’s nothing like you see on tv. We just stick to ours. We protect what’s ours. If I were in Australia right now, Smalls would have taken me from the court, and we would be in hiding until it all blew over. My father knew Smalls would protect me, so he kept him busy while they loaded me on a plane. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

  My anger boils.

  I thought I wanted to find a way to ditch this place and get home as soon as I could, face the consequences when I was back on home soil. But now I’m not so sure. My being here is all her fault. I want to tear her life apart; let the dominoes fall at her feet and be there to laugh in her face. An eye for an eye, that’s our code.

  “Um, are you okay?” Elsie asks as we stop at the dining hall. “You look like you’re about to go on a murder spree and become the UKs next best serial killer.”

  “Something like that.” I laugh. “I hear you have quite the long list for me to compete with.” Elsie freezes and goes ashen at my joke. “You know, the UK and its serial killers?” I prompt her when she doesn’t react.

  “Oh.” She laughs stiffly. “Come on, let’s get you some coffee before the blood spills.”

  We both make our coffee from a fancy machine and find a table in the corner. The room is fairly empty, so we’re either late to breakfast or early. I don’t care, it’s peaceful.

  “So, what do kids do around here for fun on a weekend?”

  “It depends: some who live locally go home; if you have a leave pass, you can head into town, although you need a parent note, or you have to at least be eighteen. Some are not permitted to leave by the courts. Usually there is a party somewhere, but most get broken up quickly – unless it’s a Knox party. I think the headmaster turns a blind eye, his precious boys can’t do any wrong.”

  “Makes sense. What can we do today to pass some time, besides a makeover?” I scowl at that idea. I do not need or want a makeover. There’s no way – as cool as she is – that I want to be styled over by Miss Perfect Preppy Barbie.

  “We can go to the pool and watch the swim team. Marcia Brown looks exquisite in her bathing suit and I’m sure you could find some lad to occupy your time.”

  We both laugh. Eyeballing the swim teams’ junk seems like a half decent way to pass some time, so I’m down for that. At least I can try to forget about my dreaded dinner at the Knox residence that’s looming over me tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to anything other than seeing my step-brothers’ shocked faces when they ‘meet’ me.

  After our coffees, Elsie grabs a few pastries while I refill my cup, and then we head off to the pool.

  I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't an indoor Olympic size swimming pool. Elsie explains they have an outdoor pool for when the weather permits, but the indoor pool is mostly just for the swim team. I guess it makes sense for the headmaster to want to channel the kids’ energy into something more purposeful than criminal activity. Keep them busy, keep their noses clean.

  We find a cosy spot on the stands as a few students take to the pool.

  Taking a sip of my coffee, I see Kalen walk out of the changing rooms. The scalding hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and I start a coughing fit. Elsie pats my ba
ck as my eyes connect with Kalen’s. His smile lights up his face, and I swear he flexes his muscles before blowing me a kiss. Hot damn the boy can fill out a speedo. His body is lean and ripped, the perfect swimmer’s physique, and apparently, my new favourite view. He has a tattoo on his ribs, but from here I can’t make out what it is.

  “I thought you may enjoy the view,” Elsie says and giggles.

  “Oh damn, did I ogle out loud?”

  “With a little dribble.”

  “Who’d have thought he would fill out a Speedo like that? It should be classed as indecent exposure. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is left to the imagination.”

  “I can’t say it does anything for me, but I can appreciate the view—Oh look! There is Marcia.”

  “Holy knockers.”

  “What I wouldn’t give to suck on those.” Now it’s my turn to laugh at her.

  We spend the best part of an hour watching them swim, before Kalen jumps out of the pool and heads towards us. My eyes drop to his Speedo, and he notices, which makes his cock stir. My eyes jump back up to his face, though they still manage to find the time to take in his golden sun-kissed, water-dappled body. Christ on a bike, I am so fucked.

  “Enjoying the show?” he asks.

  “I am actually. Who would have thought you’re a real boy?”

  “I can give you a private show back in my room, and show you how manly I really am.”

  “Pass, I’m not blind. I can enjoy the view without touching. I’m loyal to my people back home.”

  “So, you have a boyfriend back in Australia?” He tries to use an Aussie accent and fails miserably.

  “Something like that.” I don’t, not really, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  “And you think he will wait three years until you’re out of here? I’m sure your pussy is good, but it can’t be that good.” He laughs at himself.

  “Kalen, the only pussy you get is loose pussy; even your monster cock would get lost in it...Just like throwing a sausage down a hallway.” I laugh at myself remembering how Aadi used to refer to the group whores that would sleep with anyone.