by Bea Paige
“I don’t think you should go there alone,” Ford states as I start to walk away. I’m not sure if he’s offering to come with me or not, but when he jogs to catch up with me, I figure that means he is.
“Good point. I could do with something to eat too,” Sonny agrees, resting his hand lightly on my back when he reaches me. My skin immediately heats under his touch and my body temperature rises even more when Ford scowls at Sonny and says, “We agreed no making a move on Asia today…”
“That’s right we did, but our agreement was whilst out on the day trip. Just as well it’s over then, isn’t it?” Sonny laughs and keeps his hand where it is, giving Ford a challenging look. What the actual fuck?
“Wait, what?” I blurt out, looking between them both.
“We’ll explain inside,” Ford snaps, anger blazing in his eyes. For someone who’s so adamant that rage should be kept in-check, he’s really not that good at it himself.
“He’s just pissed that he’s off his game,” Sonny whispers in my ear, successfully sending a shiver down my spine. We’ve been flirting all day, bantering back and forth. I feel at ease with him, more so than with Ford, and when he’s not talking about women all the time, he’s actually pretty intelligent. Apart from his question about Atlantis and merwomen earlier he hasn’t once talked about the opposite sex. It’s been refreshing. I like this Sonny. And Ford? He’s been way more open today. Joining in on conversations, having an opinion on stuff. He even laughed more than once, but despite that slight lowering of his walls, he was still intense, on guard for the most part. Spending time with him today has just intrigued me more. A couple of times I caught him staring at me when he thought I hadn’t noticed. It made my skin heat up from the inside out each time. When he looks at me now, like he wants to devour me, it does the same thing. I’m beginning to understand that today had been some kind of challenge of who can get the girl. Thing is, I’m not a prize to be won. I deserve to be a willing participant. Yes, I might be attracted to them both, but that doesn’t mean to say I lose my right to be a master of my own life.
We head towards the rec room. The lights are out, and the room is thrown into darkness. In fact, it’s suspiciously quiet given it’s still an hour until curfew.
“Where is everyone?” I whisper. I’m not sure why I keep my voice low. Instinct maybe? I feel like we’re about to get jumped or something.
“No idea,” Sonny responds, stepping closer to me.
Ford’s shoulders are tense underneath his hoody. “I don’t like it,” he mutters, glancing at me and giving Sonny a look. He steps closer too.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” I say.
“I’m not sure yet. Just stay behind me,” Ford responds, pushing open the door to the rec room. He flicks on the light switch and I walk straight into his back.
“Fuck!” he swears.
“Shit, sorry…” I begin, then my mouth drops open before my skin goes ice-cold as all the blood drains from my body.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sonny says, reaching for me. I shake off his arm reflexively.
“Don’t!” I snap.
The rec room is filled with drawings from my sketchbook. Except they’re all copies, enlarged and doctored, turned ugly. My sketch of Braydon, smiling in his wheelchair, has been drawn all over with black marker pen and pinned to the noticeboard. Someone’s written ‘spaz’ right across his beautiful face. I stumble towards it, my heart tearing open. I rip it from the wall, staring at it dumbfounded.
“No,” I whisper.
Twisting on my feet, I grab the next doctored sketch. This one of my little brothers holding hands and grinning. I sketched it one afternoon from a photograph I was given by their foster mum. I remember feeling gutted that I hadn’t been there to witness such love between them. Now, that love has been twisted and ridiculed with the words ‘gay boys’ scrawled across it. I choke back a sob.
“Asia, let me help you clean this up,” Sonny offers, his voice quiet, careful. He knows I’m on the verge of tears. I blink them back, refusing to let them win.
Breathe, Asia. Just breathe.
On the coffee table is another blown-up copy of the sketch I drew of my mother. The only sketch I’ve ever done of her. This one was from a memory, one of the only happy memories I have of her. She’s sitting on a chair next to her bedroom window smoking a cigarette. Even now, I remember how the morning light filtered through the glass surrounding her in a kind of ethereal glow. She’d been sober for three months at that point. It was the best three months of my life. Now some arsehole has drawn a cock in front of her face and written ‘Hackney’s Whore’ in capital letters beneath it. I gather that one too, gripping hold of it tightly as I scan the room.
Stuck to the fridge with masking tape is my sketch of Eastern. It’s one of my favourite drawings of him. I remember the moment well. It’d been a boring Sunday afternoon and I’d been doodling in my sketchpad when he’d offered to pose for me. I remember showing it to him once I’d finished and my cheeks matching the redness of his own. That day my feelings for Eastern had changed from just friends to something more. Now, his eyes have been blacked out and a gun drawn against his temple. The words ‘dead meat’ stamped across his face.
This can only be the work of one person… Monk.
“That motherfucker!” I scream, storming around the room and ripping off the remaining pictures with unbridled fury. “I’m going to kill the bastard!”
Blown up images of Ford, Sonny, Pink and Kate are also strewn about the room, all of them doctored, all of them having a nasty slight or comment inked across them. The humiliation is just too fucking much. Not only has that bastard done this, but he’s got my sketchpad. He’s got my damn sketchpad. That pulls me up sharp. No, no, no, no, no.
Twisting on my heel I storm out of the room, Ford and Sonny calling after me. I’ve never felt such rage. How dare he? How fucking dare he? I can take the jibes, the food missiles, the fucking threats even. But this? This goes beyond that.
This fucking hurts…
Those pictures are like a personal diary to me. They’re my fucking soul spilled out onto a page for everyone to see. That fucking bastard Monk.
Then I remember that he’s no longer the leader of the HH crew, Camden is, and though this stinks of Monk going rogue, ultimately Camden is responsible. Hasn’t he done enough fucking damage?
“Asia, wait!” Ford shouts, running after me as I leg it back to the annex. He catches up to me just as I get to the lobby of the main building. Standing there waiting is Monk and the same six guys who jumped me that first week I arrived. Pink and Kate run into the lobby behind them. Pink is teary-eyed, her mascara black ribbons down her face. Kate looks pale. Haunted.
“I see you found our new gallery. What, don’t like the artwork?” Monk sneers. His pack of wolves burst out laughing behind him.
“You, motherfucker, are dead!” I seethe, my fingers curled around the paper in my hand.
“Is that a promise?” he asks, leering at me.
“Prick, you’d better start running because I’m more than happy to finish what I started,” Sonny bites out, stepping up beside me.
“No! Not this time,” I snap, “This is my fight, Sonny. Mine!”
Pink is sobbing now, and I wonder why she’s so distressed. Then I look at what she’s holding… My sketchbook. “I’m sorry, Asia.” She holds it up, all the pages have been ripped from the binding, it’s empty. “I thought you’d got back early because your bedroom door was open. It’s a mess, there’s shit everywhere. Kate found me trying to clean it up. I didn’t know. I would’ve tried to stop them…” she rambles.
Shit? As in my stuff thrown about or real, actual shit? I’m not sure I want to know. All I want are my drawings. “Where are they, arsehole?” I bite out, rounding on Monk. I take several steps forward, but Ford’s hand clasps around my arm holding me back.
“Not here, Asia. Not now,” he warns me.
“Get off me, Ford!”
I shout turning on him.
“Oh look, trouble in paradise,” Monk says, drawing more laughter from his gang.
“Fuck you, prick! This isn’t over,” Sonny snaps, his whole body is vibrating with anger. Just like mine is. Just like Ford’s is too.
More people arrive, the lobby filling with students. Amongst them are Bram and Red looking far too delighted by what’s going on. A look is exchanged between Bram and Monk. It doesn’t go unnoticed. Ford’s grip tightens on my arm and I hear him swear under his breath. Is this a joint endeavour? It wouldn’t fucking surprise me. I yank my arm out of Ford’s hold, turning on him.
“Is that why you came today, pretending to be my friend when in reality your bastard crew helped Monk set this up?”
Ford looks shocked. “No! Fuck, Asia, no!”
He seems sincere, but I don’t know what to believe. Bram and Red exchange glances, then start to back up into the crowd. It’s too late though, Ford is already on them both. He grabs Bram by the collar yanking him out into the open space.
“Stay the fuck there!” he orders Red, who stills, her eyes wide with fear. Kate and Pink step in behind her, preventing her from leaving.
“What the fuck did you do?” Ford is eerily calm. His voice low, threatening.
“Only what that bitch deserved. Wasn’t like you were going to do it… too busy thinking more about your cock than the rest of us,” Bram blurts out, hate seeping from every pore. He looks at me then. “Fucking whore!” he spits.
Ford lifts his arm, pulls his fist back and punches Bram on his cheek, sending him sprawling. Red screams, pushing past the bystanders. She drops to her knees beside her boyfriend who is currently groaning and clutching at his face.
“You’re out,” Ford snaps, those two words gutting Red and Bram like a knife would a fish.
“Ford,” Red begs, her eyes wide, lips trembling.
“You knew about this?” he questions.
She winces. “She’s a bitch,” is all she can say.
“Then you’re both done.”
“We’ve been friends since we were kids and you’d drop us, for her?” she spits, her trembling lips and moist eyes replaced with daggers and gritty determination. She isn’t done, not by a long shot. This will only fuel their hate more.
“Well, well, well, if there isn’t dissention in the ranks. Looks like you’re losing your grip, Ford,” Monk sneers. His laughter cutting through the air.
“Fuck you, Monk,” Ford snaps. The pain of losing two of his friends flashing in his eyes. I see him shut it down quickly, shut all his emotions down. I know what he’s doing, he’s preparing himself mentally to fight.
“This is my fight, Ford,” I warn him, just the same as I did Sonny.
Behind us a door slams open, echoing through the lobby. The crowd parts and Camden strides in.
“What the fuck is happening here?” he asks, addressing Monk directly. His gaze flicks between us all, apparently assessing what’s going on. As if he doesn’t know.
“This is what’s happening,” I shout, chucking the pieces of paper on the floor. They scatter like petals. My soul ripped out and ruined for all to see. Camden’s eyes darken as his focus lands on the sketch I drew of my brothers and the words ‘gay boys’ scrawled across their innocent faces.
He looks at Monk with narrowed eyes, then at Bram and Red before finally resting his gaze on me. For a long time, he just looks at me. Then his gaze flicks to Sonny and Ford who are standing on either side of me. He seems to make up his mind about something.
“You went against my explicit orders?” Camden says to Monk. Like Ford, he remains calm, holding his temper, but I see the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
Monk sneers at him but doesn’t respond. So, Camden turns to me instead. “Monk has wronged you, so I’m going to give you one chance and one chance only at retribution. None of my crew will intervene. None!” Camden snaps when some of the HH crew mumble their distaste. He turns to face them. “If any of you motherfuckers have an issue with that, I suggest you speak up now and face the consequences. I’m done being lenient.”
Not one person does, except Monk.
“What the fuck are you doing, Camden?” Monk asks, looking somewhere between shocked and downright livid. “This ain’t going to go down well with the…”
“Shut the fuck up, Monk!!” Camden roars.
Monk flinches, his hate focusing on Camden now who is oblivious as he regards me.
“You can choose your punishment, Asia, and I will guarantee no interference from me or any of my crew, but I have one rule and one request.”
“And what are they?” I snap.
“You cannot ask that I cut Monk from the HH crew and you spend the rest of the evening with me.”
“Over my fucking dead body,” Sonny snaps, stepping forward. I grab him by the arm, squeezing hard.
I daren’t look at Ford because I know that if I do he’ll lose the very precarious hold he has on his rage.
“And if I refuse?”
“Then all bets are off, everyone chooses a damn side and we settle this right here, right now.”
Pink and Kate gasp, their shock palpable. I can’t do that to them. I won’t.
“Don’t do it, Asia,” Ford finally says, breaking his silence. “Don’t play into his hands.”
But what choice do I have? I don’t want my friends dragged into this mess.
“I accept your terms,” I respond.
“So, how do you want to play this?” he asks, drawing a surprised gasp from Monk and the rest of his crew, not to mention the half dozen kids from the No Name crew who are watching the whole sorry exchange.
“The Tower. Me against Monk. A week today. If I win, Monk leaves me and my friends the fuck alone.”
“And if you lose?” Monk smirks, puffing out his chest.
“I won’t lose.”
Monk laughs, his wolves laugh with him. Camden fucking glowers.
“If you lose, when you lose,” Monk corrects himself with a smirk, “you get to be mine.”
“The fuck I do!” I shout. This is not what I’d intended.
“Done,” Camden states. He glances at me with an emotion I can’t read.
“Fuck this,” Ford shouts, moving forward.
“No, Ford! It’s done. I will win. I’ll never be his.”
Ford shakes his head. Sonny grits his teeth. “I’ll win,” I repeat.
Monk laughs like a man who’s already won the fight. Well, screw him. He has no fucking idea what I’m capable of. None. With that, I storm out of the building leaving them all gaping behind me.
29
Pink was correct my room is full of shit, fortunately not the human or animal kind, just the trash kind. It’s as though they’ve upended a whole dustcart worth of trash in my room. There are empty food packets, half eaten mouldy food, cigarette butts, used tissues, and condoms. Fucking used condoms. I try not to gag as I kick aside the rubbish then curse like a fishwife as I tread on a rotten piece of meat, maggots wiggling in the mouldy flesh. It fucking stinks. In the corner of the room I notice a black bag, already half filled up with rubbish.
“Don’t go any further, Asia. Let us clear this up,” Pink says, as she follows me into the room, Kate, Sonny and Ford all behind her.
“I’ll do it,” I bite out angrily. It’s not her fault, but I’m so full of hate and rage that I can’t be anything other than short with her. “Is the bathroom just as bad?”
“It’s worse. Don’t go in there, please,” she begs.
Of course, I ignore her, knowing I should heed her warning but unable to help myself. I want to know what they did in there too.
I need to see.
It’s like a sick sense of fascination, you know, just like staring at an accident on the motorway. You know you shouldn’t look, that it’s better if you don’t, yet you can’t seem to stop yourself. When I push open the bathroom door, I nearly pass out at the smell coming from the confined space. It seems to b
e coming from the toilet, so I do something stupid, I lift the lid. Puke immediately fills my mouth. The toilet is filled with used tampons and sanitary towels. It’s fucking disgusting.
“Bunch of bastard cunts,” I swear, rushing from the bathroom and slamming the door shut.
“I’m so sorry, Asia,” Pink whispers.
“Not more than Monk will be when I finish with him,” I retort.
“They even cut up your clothes,” Kate murmurs, her hands sifting through the torn material on my bed. Literally all I have left to wear are the clothes on my back. It’s not as if I had much to begin with. Now I have even less. Everything else has been cut up and dumped on my bed alongside slithers of paper…
My drawings. My drawings are in tatters, but my heart is not. I harden it, refusing to let them break me.
I refuse.
Monk will rue the day he decided to fuck with me. They all will. Every single one who’s wronged me will pay.
Tonight, that starts with Camden.
Speaking of which… leaning against my doorframe with a blank expression on his face is Camden. Anger bubbles up my chest, but I push it away, smothering it. Can’t say the same for Sonny though.
“You fucking nasty piece of shit,” Sonny snaps, rounding on his feet and striding towards Camden. Once again, I find myself stepping in to prevent a fight.
“Wasn’t me,” he bites out.
“Nothing’s ever you, is it?” Sonny snaps back. “Fucking own your shit, you coward!”
“Asia, I’m waiting,” Camden says turning to face me and completely ignoring Sonny and the evil glares from everyone else in the room. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Ford staring at me, trying to figure out his next move no doubt.
“We have to do this now?” I ask, still shaking, still enraged.
“Yes, right now.”
“Fine,” I snap.
“No!” Ford shouts, narrowing his eyes at Camden. He wants to kill him. Well, now that makes three of us.