I turned around, spotting a group of older boys leaning against the rear wall, the infamous Ronald McDonald amongst them. The monstrous boy was in the middle of his pack, his clownish smile reminiscent of his namesake. His friends sniggered on either side of him, adding their own juvenile remarks about Dante being gay.
A holler ripped through the hall, snapping my attention back to the stage. Leaping off it, Dante hit the ground running, sprinting for Ronald. Dante’s friends scrambled out of their seats, probably to defend Dante, who was already launching himself at his antagonist. Ronald threw a punch back, both him and Dante full-out fighting, the sudden change in events taking me completely by surprise. The rest of the boys started fighting too. Jasper roughly tackled one of Ronald’s friends to the floor, causing the other boy to yell out in pain.
Britain leapt to their feet, rushing forward to break up the fight, the two men hollering at the boys to stop. Paul shoved a few aside and grabbed Dante, yanking him away from Ronald, whose face was covered in blood, Dante having gotten the upper hand.
Dante started spewing vile swearwords at Paul, the boy going absolutely berserk, his actions and expression almost crazy... No, they weren’t almost, they were crazy. Paul yelled at Dante to stop. Like a switch had been flicked off, Dante went still, his eyes confused, his breathing laboured. Then he looked up at Paul, who was still holding him. Fear passed over his features. He started struggling again, yelling, “Don’t touch me!”
Harry went to them. “Let him go, Paul.”
“No, he could attack again,” Paul replied.
“Let him go!” Harry barked.
Surprise coloured Paul’s pale complexion, Harry’s outburst obviously not the norm. He let go of Dante and stepped back, holding his hands up. Harry directed Dante to a seat, ordering him to sit down. I watched as the man knelt down in front of Dante, talking to him in soft tones, while Paul went off to deal with the others. The fight was now broken up. Most of the boys, Ronald included, had taken off out of the hall, not wanting to wait around for punishment. Only a few hung back, Jasper one of them.
Paul grabbed Jasper’s arm, “Ye’re going to the principal’s office.”
Jerking free, Jasper sidestepped him and went to Dante. “Is he okay?” he asked Harry.
“I’m not sure.” Harry glanced up at Paul, who was snapping at Jasper to get moving. “Calm down, Paul, I need his help to take Dante to the sickbay.”
Jasper hooked an arm around Dante’s waist, lifting him to his feet, Dante’s expression not all there. Harry went to Dante’s other side, the three of them disappearing out the door, with Phelia tagging along.
Paul headed for me, his narrowed green eyes betraying his anger. “Ye cannae blame me for restraining that nutjob this time. Ye saw what he was doing to that other kid. He needs to be institutionalised. He’s completely bonkers. Och, I’ve had to break up more than one fight caused by that lunatic. But this time I’m going to make sure the principal does something aboot it. He’s far too soft on that wee hooligan.”
“For good reason,” I said.
“And what is that?”
“He’s had a very bad upbringing. His stepfather murdered his mother and beat him so badly he had to be hospitalised.”
Paul frowned. “Aye, I did hear aboot that. Though, other kids have had it hard too, yet they don’t go berserk like he just did.”
“I think you’re grossly downplaying what he’s been through.”
“Maybe, but I still don’t like that kid. He’s going to seriously injure someone one of these days, or worse, kill them. He’s a ticking time-bomb.”
“Then, we should talk to his father, because obviously his counselling isn’t working.”
“You can talk to him. I want nothing to do with that animal.” He headed out of the hall, his use of the word animal making me wonder whether it was Dante’s father who’d given him the black-eye.
***
About an hour after the fight, I was called out of class to go to the principal’s office. As I entered it, I took a quick step back, the man standing in front of Principal Sao’s desk giving me one hell of a fright. He had a dark green, almost black tattoo covering his face, the curvilinear design a moko—a Maori tribal tattoo. He was dressed in black leathers, from his pants to his jacket, the latter having a gang insignia on the back. His dark eyes locked onto me, the animosity within them causing me to shiver. I forced myself to move forward, almost ashamed for stepping back.
His gaze drifted down my body, his slow perusal intrusive. “If I had a teacher like you, I wouldn’t be causing trouble.” He glanced down at Dante, who was sitting in front of the principal’s desk, picking at a string on his shirt. “Eh, son, you shouldn’t cause the pretty lady trouble. I had ugly bitches teaching me. You should be bloody grateful, you soddin’ brat.”
Dante mumbled something.
“Speak up, boy, can’t hear ya.”
“I’m sorry, I lost it.”
“And why’s that?”
Dante glanced at the boy he’d attacked. Ronald was sitting next to a middle-aged woman, who could only be his mother, her features as harsh as her son’s. Mrs. McDonald’s terrified gaze was locked onto Dante’s father, as though he was going to rip her clothes off, raping her right in front of everyone, her expression almost laughable. Yes, the man was undeniably dangerous, but he was here for his son, not some old tart with too much makeup on. Furthermore, he was a striking man, and although Dante didn’t resemble him, apart from the colour of his eyes, he’d obviously gotten his raw sex appeal from his father.
Dante jerked his thumb at the boy he’d attacked. “He called me bent.”
“Bent?”
“Gay.”
“So what?” his father replied.
Dante grimaced. “He deserved to be punched for it—multiple times.”
“No, he deserved to be ignored, cos, son, you’re anything but gay. Christ, the amount of girls’ knickers I’ve had to clean outta your room would dress a squadron of women, and he pro’bly only insulted you cos he’s jealous of all the pussy you get.”
Dante’s face lit up, his chest puffing out with pride. “Yeah! Cos he’s a fuckin’ loser.”
“Dante!” Principal Sao said. “I don’t tolerate that kind of language.”
Mr. Rata’s head snapped around to him. “You didn’t criticise me, so don’t criticise my boy.” He pointed at the principal. “And the next time you call me away from work, I expect it to be for sumpthin’ worse than a schoolboy fight.” He indicated for Dante to stand. “Up, we’re leaving.”
Principal Sao cleared his throat, the big man’s expression now uneasy. “Please keep him home for the remainder of the week.”
“I’m sure he won’t complain over gettin’ extra holidays.”
“It’s not a holiday, it’s a suspension.”
Mr. Rata shook his head. “You school people are dumb cunts. If you wanna punish a kid, you don’t give ’em time off, that’s what they want. Give ’em a strapping across their legs. It didn’t do me any harm, but it sure as hell made me think twice ’bout acting up.”
“Corporal punishment is banned now, and even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t do it.”
Mr. Rata sneered at him. “That’s cos you’re a pussy.”
Principal Sao kept his mouth clamped shut, not saying a word back, which by the look on Mr. Rata’s hard face was definitely a wise decision. The man probably wouldn’t think twice about hurting the principal if he said something wrong. His demeanour was filled with so much menace that I could practically see the anger rippling beneath his tattooed skin, ready to burst free and attack. Not only that, he had the power to back it up, his muscular body filling out his leathers. I also got the feeling he didn’t like the principal, his tone disrespectful, which surprised me, considering Principal Sao was the only reason Dante was still going to Wera High. It was any wonder why Dante was so rude to people, his father leading a bad example.
Mr. Rata tapped his son�
��s head. “Stop picking at your bloody shirt and get to the Harley.”
Grabbing one of the motorbike helmets off the principal’s desk, Dante pushed up from his seat and headed for the door, stopping in front of me for a moment. Appearing ashamed, he dropped his gaze and shot out the door, not waiting for his father. Looking unconcerned, his father grabbed the other helmet and approached me. Again, I willed myself not to retreat, although I wanted to, more than anything. He not only dwarfed me, but was intimidating as hell, his intensity off the chart. Though, he looked younger up close, early thirties at a guess, the face behind the tattoo smooth. He’d obviously had Dante in his teens... A second later, I remembered Dante had an older brother, making me wonder just how young Mr. Rata had been when he’d started having kids. Fourteen? Fifteen? Or possibly sixteen if I’d gotten his age wrong.
His dark gaze lowered down me again, settling on my breasts. He bit his bottom lip and made a little sound, looking like he wanted to devour them. “You up for some extra tuition?” he asked, his dark eyes rising to mine.
“For wh-what?” I stuttered out, the man unsettling me. Despite other people being in the room, he was eyeing me up like he wanted to mount me right there, another thing his son obviously got from him. The two were shameless, not caring about anyone other than what they wanted.
“Dante, obviously,” he replied with a smirk, probably aware of the effect he was having on me. “He needs extra lessons.”
“Ah ... I don’t know if I have the time.”
“You’ll make it for my boy. Check your schedule and get back to him when he returns to school. I don’t want him failing School C like his older brother.”
“It’s now called NCEA.”
“It could be called A-B-fuckin’-C for all I care; I just want at least one of my kids to finish Fifth Form.”
“It’s called Year Eleven,” I said without thinking.
He gave me a withering look, making me clamp my mouth shut. “Just teach my kid good.” Without another word, he disappeared out the door.
Principal Sao exhaled loudly, looking relieved that Mr. Rata was gone. “I’m sorry you had to be subjected to that, Clara. That man is a law unto himself.”
“And his son!” Ronald’s mother piped up from her seat, finally finding her voice. I’d forgotten she was there. In fact, Dante’s father had made me forget about everyone while he’d been talking to me, the man overwhelming.
Mrs. McDonald indicated to her son’s bruised and bandaged face. “Look what that Rata thug did to my Ronnie. Dante should be expelled, not suspended.”
“It was your son who instigated the fight,” I said, “so if you think Dante should be expelled, then Ronald should receive the same punishment.”
“Like hell!” she shouted, jumping to her feet. “What my boy did hardly compares to the brutality unleashed upon him.”
“It was no different to what I saw Ronald do to Dante the first day of school.” I crossed my arms over my chest, not willing to let her son get off scot-free. “Actually, what Ronald did was worse. He and two of his friends attacked Dante without provocation, kicking him while he was on the ground. So, again, if you think Dante should be expelled, then Ronald should receive the same punishment.”
Mrs. McDonald’s head snapped to the principal. “If you dare expel my boy, I’ll take this to the papers. I’ll make your school look so damn bad you won’t know what hit you.”
Principal Sao shook his head. “Regardless of your threats, I have no intention of expelling your son or Dante. Suspensions are all that’s needed in this case.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re not suspending my Ronnie!”
“I certainly am. You’re to keep him home for the next three days.”
“But he didn’t throw the first punch!”
“Which is why his suspension is shorter—for the moment, because I did warn him to stop harassing Dante. Ronald refuses to leave him alone.”
“’Cos he fucked my girlfriend!” Ronald yelled. “He deserves everything he gets!”
His mother whipped her head around to him. “So, that’s why Phelia left you.”
Ronald’s face dropped, his expression devastated. “He doesn’t even want her. He just did her to upset me.”
His mother’s face softened. “Oh, you poor sweetheart,” she said, coaxing her son up. “Come on, let’s go home.” She placed an arm around him and walked out of the office, giving me a glare along the way.
Principal Sao watched them leave, his expression not happy. As soon as the door closed behind them, he walked around his desk and sat down in his swivel chair, muttering, “The suspension won’t do any good. Those two boys will be right back at it in no time. It’ll be a continuous tit for tat until one of them leaves school.”
“Maybe things will calm down, especially if Ronald finds a new girlfriend.”
He shook his head. “Phelia Lamar is just one of many issues they’ve had. The boys and their fathers are in rival gangs, which is why Mrs. McDonald looked so scared around Dante’s father. The stare down he gave her when he first walked in would’ve terrified anyone. Anyway, thank you for your help. You can return to your class now.”
I nodded and went to leave, but stopped as he called out my name. I turned back. “Yes?”
His brow furrowed. “I almost forgot to mention about what Mr. Rata asked you. If you’re going to tutor Dante, whatever you do, don’t do it at his house.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Well, I thought I should warn you just in case. I don’t want you putting yourself in a dangerous situation.”
“I don’t intend to.”
“Good. And I’m really sorry about the way Mr. Rata looked at you, Clara. I should’ve said something to him.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine. Anyway, I should go before my classroom’s destroyed.”
He nodded, giving me a slight smile. I lifted my hand in farewell and left his office. As I headed down the main corridor, my mind returned to Mr. Rata’s comment about tutoring Dante. I pushed through my classroom door, wondering how I could get out of it without upsetting the man ... because like the father, there was no way I wanted to be left alone with the son, both of them as dangerous as each other, just in different ways.
19
CLARA
While Dante was off school, everything ran smoothly again. Oh, the students still complained and whined, but they mostly did what they were told, some even engaging in debates about Animal Farm. It made me feel good, like I was finally settling into my new job. Lindy also helped boost my morale, her enthusiasm for my class an absolute joy. She was such a lovely girl, and a real good sport, especially in regards to the musical. Even though she didn’t get one of the acting roles, she offered to help out with the menial tasks that no one else wanted to do. On the following Wednesday, she was handing out scripts to the kids who’d been called back, congratulating them on getting a part.
After she’d finished, she headed to where I was sitting, nestled in the second row of seats facing the stage. She gave me one of her metallic smiles, her braces reflecting the hall lights. “I’ve finished with my tasks for Mr. Aston. Do you need me to do anything for you?”
“No, I’m fine thanks, Lindy,” I said, returning her smile.
“You sure?” she asked, looking disappointed.
“Um...” I stalled, realising she wanted to help. “Actually, you can sit with me and give your opinion on how everyone performs. Mr. Grey was supposed to do it, but he got called away on a family matter.”
“Okay!” She sat down next to me, gripping onto the seat with unbridled excitement, the girl a true delight.
My attention moved to Phelia as she climbed the stairs to the stage, making me wonder where Dante was. He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago, his suspension now over. Due to the fight, there’d been a heated debate as to whether he should play Othello. Both Harry and I had voted yes, thinking it would be good to get Dante to channel his energies into
something positive rather than negative. Vehemently disagreeing, Paul had gone to Principal Sao with the intention of overriding us. It had backfired on him, with the principal supporting us instead. Though, Principal Sao had stated that Dante had to turn up to every single rehearsal or risk losing the part to Jasper, who was his understudy.
Phelia called out to me, “How am I s’posed to do this scene without Dante? He has to sing it with me.”
“Lindy, can you please go get Jasper,” I said, disappointed Dante was doing exactly as Paul had predicted. “He’s rehearsing in Mr. Aston’s drama room with Annabelle,” who was Phelia’s understudy.
Lindy went to get up, but stopped, the loud bang of the main door attracting our attention. I glanced over my shoulder, spotting Dante entering the hall. He appeared out of breath, as though he’d run here, or more likely sprinted. A light sheen of sweat covered his exposed skin, making it glisten, while his black hair was a windswept tangle of waves. But instead of making him look bad, he looked sexy. Coupled with his rosy cheeks and haphazard clothes, he gave the impression he’d just had...
Sex.
The memory of him getting a blowjob in the restroom returned again, something I couldn’t get out of my mind, no matter how hard I tried.
“Why are you late?” I asked a bit too harshly, more annoyed with myself than him.
“Sorry, miss, I had to do a job for my cuz,” he answered, stopping next to Lindy’s seat. He peered over her at me. “So, what do I do?”
Lindy held out a script, grumbling, “Practice your lines with Phelia.”
He snatched it out of her hand and headed for the stage, the thud of his boots against the wooden floorboards sounding loud to my ears. Throwing the script onto the stage, he climbed up it, getting a giggle from Phelia, whose face had lit up upon his arrival. The girl was obviously infatuated with him and why shouldn’t she be? He was drop-dead gorgeous, not to mention her age ... fifteen. I repeated the number in my head, using it to force some sense into me, my attraction to him now getting on my nerves. It almost felt like a pulse thrumming beneath my skin, never letting me forget that day in the restroom.
Broken English (Broken Lives Book 1) Page 18