by Bea Paige
“Protect me from who, your crew?” I scoff. “I’ve dealt with worse than that bunch of losers.”
Ford shakes his head. “Not my crew. The rest of them,” he says, his gaze turning towards the mean looking bunch of arseholes in the corner of the room who are now watching our every move. Included in his sweeping statement is Sonny and two lone girls not sitting with anyone. I briefly wonder why they’re not in a gang, and more to the point, why they’re being left alone. Sonny is staring at us both, watching the exchange with a look of both amusement and annoyance.
“The one with the scar slashed across his face is Monk,” Ford says, bringing my attention back to the group of kids in the corner of the dining hall. One of them is pushing a cream cake around on his plate, smiling evilly at me. So it was that douchebag who threw the cake then? Duly noted. I never forget a face.
“What about him?” I ask.
“He’s their leader. He oversees the newly recruited Hackers at Oceanside.”
10
“Wait, what? Did you say Hackers? As in the Hackney Hackers?” I respond, my mouth feeling dry all of a sudden. This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.
“The one and only. Why? You know them?”
“Shit.” I mumble, this can’t be happening. “What kind of set-up is this?”
“One where the reach of the most powerful gang in London can infiltrate the walls of this establishment. Mr Carmichael might’ve grown up in a similar environment to us all, but he sure as fuck ain’t aware of Camden’s power in our world or if he is, then he turns a blind eye to it. I’m not sure what’s worse, ignorance or compliance.”
“You know Camden?” I respond, ignoring Ford’s remark about Mr Carmichael whom I happen to like. I’m betting he knows more than he lets on about what’s happening here, and he doesn’t seem the type to let it continue without having a reason for it. No, there’s more to this than meets the eye.
“Everyone in London knows Camden, including you it would seem.”
“Yeah, we’ve met,” I confirm, looking over at Monk who gives me a wide grin. The dark pools of his black eyes are stark against the paleness of his skin. I don’t know him, but somehow he knows all about me… Fucking Camden. I’m in big trouble now. BIG trouble.
“Look, I appreciate your concern,” I say sarcastically, because this most definitely isn’t about any concern Ford has for me, but more about recruiting me to his crew and building his army. There’s safety in numbers, right? “But I can look after myself, I’ve done it for a very long time,” I say, stepping backwards, not willing to take his offer.
“And you think they haven’t? They’d chew you up and spit you out. You’ll need my protection, our protection.”
“You think Red and Bram are going to protect me? They hate me already.”
“They’ll toe the line if I tell them to.”
I bark out a laugh. “Sure.”
“Then trust me. I’ve got your back.”
“Why? You’re a stranger. We literally just met.”
“Because I’m a good judge of character.”
That really makes me laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, pointedly looking at Bram and Red who are looking more and more annoyed that their leader has deigned to talk to me.
Ford follows my gaze. “I’ve known Red and Bram my whole life. Trust me, they’re good.”
So, they grew up together. Interesting.
“Good? Red is a bitch and Bram a wildcard with about as much sense as a rabid dog. I’m betting the rest of them are just as volatile. Thanks, but no thanks.”
“You don’t know anything. Look, you might not have had the best introduction to my crew, but I can assure you we’re a way better option than that lot.”
“Those two girls don’t seem to think so,” I retort, motioning towards the two lone girls sitting away from the rest of everyone else. One of them is dressed similarly to me with a bright pink streak in her long blonde hair. The other looks like she’d be better placed at some prep school with her neat looking black hair, simple jeans and white shirt combo. I mean, really? What the fuck has she done to warrant being sent to Oceanside? That girl is about as unlawful as Marjorie Black, the resident charity worker slash religious nut who lives on my estate back home.
“Those two girls have their own agenda,” he shrugs, not bothering to elaborate further. “My point is, I’m not recruiting them. I’m recruiting you.”
I roll my eyes. “You do realise that you’re not the British Army and I’m about as interested in joining your gang as I am copping off with Sonny, the resident manwhore over there,” I say loudly, hoping Sonny can hear me. Ford’s responding smirk tells me he did.
“Ford, she ain’t worth the hassle, man. Leave her to the wolves,” Bram says, scowling at me.
Ford turns sharply to look at Bram. His eyes narrowing. “Shut the hell up, or next time you fuck up I’ll be feeding you to the wolves, got it?”
Bram nods his head, his eyes wide with shock. “Got it,” he mumbles.
Now that was unexpected. Threatening to cast his friend aside over me, someone he doesn’t even know. So much for loyalty. I watch as Red whispers something into Bram’s ear, who responds with a rumbling growl and stands suddenly, forcing Red off his lap. If it wasn’t for the guy standing next to her who caught her, she would’ve ended up on her arse. Bram’s an animal. If he treats his own girlfriend like that, then God only knows what he’d do to me.
“The offer still stands,” Ford says, returning his gaze to me, a flash of doubt and annoyance crossing his features. Yeah, arsehole, your mate’s a dick.
“To join…” I pause for effect, cocking my head. “What is the name of your crew?” I ask, vaguely interested to see what this bunch of misfits have called themselves.
“No Name.”
“What?!” I laugh. I can’t seem to help myself. “You haven’t got a name?”
“No, that isn’t what I said. We’re No Name Crew.”
“This just gets better and better,” I say, sighing heavily.
Seriously, one thing I wasn’t expecting to find here was more of the same kind of bullshit I’ve had to live with my whole life. What is it about a human being’s need to find a home with like-minded people? I’m a loner, always have been, always will be. I prefer my own company and that of a select few. Namely, Eastern. Though that’s gone to shit now that he’s joined Hackney’s bloody Hackers.
“So, what’s it to be, Asia? That is your chosen name, right?”
“How did you know?”
“News travels fast in a place like this. Seems fitting then that the girl who doesn’t use her real name should join the No Name Crew.”
“That makes no sense,” I retort.
“Every single one of us has abandoned our real names for one reason or another. For a while we all lived without a name before we chose one for ourselves. It fits. We fit, and you could too.”
“I’m not weak, I don’t need to join a gang to feel safe or worth something.”
“I didn’t say you were weak or worthless, and I imagine you’ll put up a good fight,” he says, his gaze boring into mine. So much so that I feel the tension between us all the way down in my toes. “But eventually those fuckers will wear you down. If you join my crew, they’ll leave you alone. I have enough sway to make sure they do.”
“And if they don’t leave me alone, what could you actually do about it?”
“Challenge Monk to a fight at the Tower. The winner gets you and the loser backs the fuck off. I never fucking lose. It’s why I have their respect. No one has been able to beat me, not even Camden.”
Whoa! That’s one statement to make. So there really is history between them. Who is this guy and why don’t I know about him already, given he seems to hang around in the same kind of circles as I do? “What’s the Tower?” I ask, tucking that thought away for the time being.
“Exactly what it says,” Ford says cryptically.
Interesting,
and whilst I’m intrigued enough to want to know if this was what Sonny had been talking about earlier, I’m not about to delve any deeper with everyone watching us. Right now, I want this conversation over so that I can get out of Ford’s orbit and breathe again.
“You’re assuming again that I need you to fight for me. Listen,” I say, losing my patience now, “I’m a big girl. I can look after myself and I don’t need you or anyone else fighting my battles for me. Got it?”
“You’re a fool. We can afford you sanctuary.”
I chance another glance at Bram and Red who are looking at me with distaste. Yeah, right. I don’t care what Ford says, those two will stab me in the back quicker than you can say Count Dracula. “I’ll take my chances, thanks,” I snap.
“Then you won’t last past the term break… I can already see Sonny has his eye on you. He might not be part of the Hackney Hackers but that doesn’t mean you should trust him either. Bram said you were close.”
“I don’t trust anyone.” I’m not sure why I feel relieved that Sonny isn’t part of that crew, but I am.
“Then that makes two of us,” Ford responds, leaving me wondering why the hell he asked me to join his crew if that’s the case. I watch him walk over to the group, taking a seat at the head of the table. He glances at me, then at the other group of boys he warned me against. I follow his gaze as it finally lands on Sonny who’s glaring at Ford like they’re old enemies. Sitting back down on my chair, I pick up my glass of water and take a sip. The coolness slides down my throat but fails to temper the heat inside my chest that remains alight partly from my immediate reaction to Ford, but also because my instincts about people seem to be way off. First Mr Carmichael, then Sonny and now Ford. I’ve got them all wrong.
Mr Carmichael has lived a life less befitting of a headteacher and more of an ex-gang member. Sonny isn’t everything he seems, and Ford may be the leader of his crew, garnering the respect of all the residents because of his fighting skills, but I was wrong about him being the kingpin of Oceanside Academy. My game is off, and I need to sort it out, otherwise I’m going to find myself in deep shit before the week’s out, let alone by the term break. There’s more at play here than even I can figure out right now.
Cold dread sinks like a stone in my stomach and I know that bravado and courage aren’t going to help me this time. I don’t know who to trust. I wish Eastern were here, but then again even if he was, what good would it do me? He’s part of Camden’s crew now.
11
Back in my room a few hours later, I lay on my bed studying my timetable attempting to push away thoughts of the two opposing crews and what they have planned for me. Shortly after Ford’s proposal and my refusal to join the No Name Crew, Mr Carmichael had entered the dining hall to introduce himself officially. He was straight to the point giving us all a quick rundown of the teachers and staff that we’d meet over the coming days. Most of the teachers aren’t starting until the morning so they weren’t there to greet us in person, but we were all introduced to Bobby Rusk, the head of the residential annex. A glorified caretaker of sorts. Ex-security guard, with a big gut and thick arms. If you ask me, he looks like half the men on my estate who spend their weekly benefits on booze and cigs. I’ve no idea what possessed Mr Carmichael to hire him.
Not that it really matters, all I need to know is that he’s the guy I’d need to give the slip if I ever want to get out of this room past curfew. Then again, that’s probably the last thing I want to do right now given I’ve managed to piss off most of the students at Oceanside Academy.
Turning down Ford’s offer won’t have gone down well and whilst the south coast arm of the Hackney Hackers Crew is yet to bother me again, I’m wise enough to know that it won’t last. Then there’s the rest of the residents. So far, I’ve counted just nine girls, ten if you include me. Red and three more bimbos of the same ilk are in Ford’s crew. Three girls in the HH crew- as they are more commonly known here- and two more in the general populous who kept to themselves in the dining hall the whole time shit was going down. Those two lone girls intrigue me more than anyone, and I’m determined to find out their story. How have they managed to avoid being recruited? Or maybe they’ve turned both gangs down already? Either way, I need to find out. I’m hoping to find allies in them at least. I’m not looking for besties, because that isn’t really me, just people who might feel the same way I do and who want to stay out of the bullshit.
Ten girls. Thirty boys. Fuck. Whilst my maths isn’t that great, I’m pretty sure that’s a ratio of three guys to every girl. No wonder there are five P.E. lessons in a week, all that testosterone needs an outlet that doesn’t include pussy.
“I fucking hate P.E,” I mumble, huffing out a sigh. At least I have Art class to make up for it. I scan my timetable once more, memorising it. After a discussion with Annie, this timetable was put together before I arrived. She wasn’t keen on me taking art as a subject but once I threatened to spray the whole school with my tag, she backtracked quicker than a husband caught with his dick in another woman’s mouth.
“Better to focus on your art in the right kind of way,” she’d said.
Whatever.
In addition to an Art class every day, I have an hour therapy session with Mr Burnside who I’m assuming is Anthony, the head’s husband. Once a week there’s also a group therapy session which I’m not looking forward to in the slightest. Fuck that sharing crap. I draw the line at that. The rest of the time is split between Maths, English and P.E. as the mandatory lessons. There’s also a two-hour class once a week for learning a new skill but for me that won’t start until after Christmas so for now that free time is supposed to be used for studying… yeah, right. Anyway, I’ve chosen physical therapy. Out of everything available, that seemed the most relevant to my life given Braydon and his needs. At least I can help Tracy when I return home; she might appreciate the support. To be honest, as timetables go it’s not that bad and a hell of a lot less rigid than what I’ve been used to. Not that I’ve been to school for months.
The day starts after breakfast at 10am and ends at 3pm. The evenings are our own so long as an hour is spent completing homework. We can spend the rest of our free time in the games room or using the gym and swimming pool. Whilst homework is mandatory it isn’t enforceable. The punishment for failing to complete any homework set is a loss of credits. The more credits you gain, the more rewards you receive, and I, for one, want to get out of this place as soon as I can, even if it’s for just a few hours on the weekend in exchange for a few hundred credits. I’ll play the game, for now.
Chucking my timetable on the floor, I pick up my mobile phone and quickly scan for any voicemail or text messages. I’ve neither. Deciding that now is a good a time as any, given it’s fifteen minutes before curfew, I call Tracy.
After a few rings, she picks up.
“Hey, Tracy. It’s me.”
“Lissy! I’ve just managed to top up my phone to call you. Oh, thank God,” she responds, sounding like she’s got a million worries on her mind.
“What?” I snap, wincing at the sound of my voice. “Is it Braydon?”
“No, no, Lissy, it’s not Braydon. He’s just fine. Missing you already, but fine.”
Relief floods through me at that, followed quickly by worry. That leaves only one person…
“Eastern then?” I bite out.
Tracy sighs heavily. “He’s got himself into a spot of trouble…” She’s whispering now, and I can’t quite hear her over the sudden banging on my door. Must be Bobby, checking I’m in my room and not trying to escape the grounds. I need to wrap this conversation up. I don’t need my phone being confiscated.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“What kind of trouble?” I ask quickly, sitting up and swinging my feet onto the floor.
“The kind of trouble that involves the law and being on the run…” Her voice trails off. “I shouldn’t be worrying you with this,” she says eventually, since I’m suddenly incapable of
speaking. This is all Camden’s fault. The job yesterday must’ve gone wrong. I knew it! Why didn’t he mention anything in his texts? Fuck! My thoughts run wild whilst my heart gallops in my chest.
“Do you know where he is, Tracy?”
“No, but I know he’s safe. He messaged me just now.”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Why didn’t he tell me what happened? All those texts and nothing about being on the run. He’s probably turned to his new crew for help. That hurts. “Tell him to turn himself in. It’ll only be worse if he doesn’t,” I say, unable to hide the mixture of anger and concern in my voice.
“I did, Lissy. I begged him to. But he won’t listen. I was hoping you could persuade him.”
“He didn’t answer my last text, Tracy. I’ll try again, the minute I get off the phone from you.”
“Thanks, Lissy. He always listens to you.”
“Not always,” I mutter.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. I’ll do my best, Tracy, but he can be stubborn and pig-headed, as you know.”
Suddenly my bedroom door opens and in steps Bobby. He looks mad as shit.
“When I knock, you open the damn door!” he shouts, his fleshy jowl shaking.
“I gotta go, Tracy. I’ll call you if I manage to get ahold of him.”
“Please, Lissy. You’re the only person he listens to. Try and get him to come home,” she begs, her words coming out in a rush.
“I’ll try,” I respond. Bobby looks like he’s about to pop a vein in his forehead. “Look, I gotta go.”
“Bye, Lissy,” Tracy responds before I whisper a quick goodbye back then scowl at Bobby who’s glaring at me, holding his hand out.
“Phone, now!” he demands.
“What’s the problem, Bobby? I was just speaking to a friend. Is that a fucking crime?” I retort, clutching my phone tightly.
“It’s Mr Rusk to you and this is a problem. No phones. Those are the rules. In an emergency you can use the school office phone. Hand it over or find yourself in minus credits before you’ve even started your first day.”