After junior high, she’s going to Trinity High, and I’m already signed up for Saint Columbine’s, two towns over. Hopefully, I’ll never see her again after next summer.
I do find comfort in one thing about her, though… I know we won’t be business rivals. I’m taking over Dressler Corp when I grow up, sure, but Kira—she’s into ballet and dancing and shit. Much to her father’s dismay, she has no interest in Fowler & Malone. The girl’s an artist. She’s beautiful and smart beyond her years. She’ll have a good life, I’m sure of it. And lucky for the both of us, her good life and my great one, won’t need to coincide. It’s kind funny if you think about it. Or at least, it always manages to give my dad a good laugh. Malone’s only child rejecting his throne.
William Malone will be a heck of a lot easier to tear apart when there’s no apparent heir to his side of the business. I know Dad’s been trying to convince Fowler to buy Malone out, but the guy won’t even hear about it. I guess Kira’s father still has one friend in this whole fucking world… for now.
“What’s up, dickwad?” Kira’s voice cuts through my thoughts, much like an unexpected migraine. I turn around to find her sitting next to me on the bleachers. She’s wearing her softball gear, probably waiting for our practice game to end. Her team is coming in next.
The sun dances in her hair, shades of honey and endless wheat fields briefly mesmerizing me. Her big blue eyes watch me with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, but I don’t see a speck of hatred in them. There are times when I wonder how much of her animosity towards me is real, and how much is manufactured solely to please her father. William Malone is an asshole, pitting his own daughter against me just to piss off my dad.
“I really hope you’re not looking to stir any shit,” I say to her, my tone clipped as tension rises through my body. Kira is pretty and quite distracting, and sometimes I can’t help but wonder what we’d be to each other if we weren’t on opposing teams. “It’s bad enough I can’t play lacrosse because of you.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who doused me in pig’s blood at the Halloween Prom,” Kira replies, looking at the practice game. “For what it’s worth, I can tell they miss you out there.”
“Well, I’m on the bench for the rest of the season.”
“Consequences, Elias.”
“Seriously? You’re the one who wants to talk about the consequences of bullying, Miss ‘I took nudes of the boys in the locker room and then posted them online for ratings?’” I laugh, throwing my head back for good measure, though my cheeks still burn at the thought that I was not in the locker room at the time. “You could’ve gotten yourself arrested for child pornography, you dimwit. You’re lucky your daddy paid off the principal to keep your name out of the whole affair.”
Her cheeks burn red as she scowls at me. “For the last time, Elias. I only took the pictures with the purpose of a little blackmail here and there. That bitch Dina stole my SD card and posted them.”
“Which is why she’s spending three more months at a juvenile correctional facility,” I say, shaking my head. “You really need to pick better friends, Kira.”
“Any suggestions?” she snaps, crossing her arms. Her posture is different, like her body is changing. Her legs are longer but slender, with muscular calves. Her neck is delicate, her skin made of porcelain. Fucking focus, Elias! “Dina almost got me arrested. Bianca and Maeve talk shit about me behind my back. And don’t even get me started on Giselle. I think she was born a spiteful bitch. The worst part is that she’s dragging Lorna into it, too…”
“What are you trying to tell me, Kira? That you don’t have any friends?” I raise an eyebrow at her, trying hard not to laugh.
“I’m merely pointing out that this school is filled with idiots. So, when you tell me that I need to make better friends, I feel like it’s my duty to point out the obvious,” Kira shoots back.
“I tried to be your friend. You told me to fuck off.”
She pauses, her eyes wide for a moment. “Comes with the territory of being a Dressler,” she says, almost mechanically.
“You’re parroting your father again,” I tell her, and she cringes, though I’m not sure she notices it.
“Screw you!” she hisses and gets up. Instinctively, my hand shoots out. I’m surprised by the lack of resistance when I try to pull her back down.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it. This beef we have going on, it’s fucking exhausting. More exhausting because of the fucking pull we have to each other. We’ve always been like two opposite magnets, needing to coincide, but allowing the strength of our families to rip us apart.
Kira pouts a little and her eyes zero in on mine. For a moment, I know she’s as lost in my gaze as I am lost in hers. My heart picks up its pace and the hand I’d used to pull her back to me, remains gripped around her soft skin.
“Kira,” I say, my voice, hoarse and shaky. Other words want to come, but I’m not sure just how to say them.
Can we quit this?
Can we be friends?
Can we start over?
Can we forget the past? Forget the hate?
“What are we doing?” I ask instead, the words packed with more meaning than I expect her to decipher. Kira bites down on her lower lip and I can feel that pull between us again, so strong that it almost forces me to crash my mouth to hers. If only to stop her from saying the wrong thing.
Catching herself, however, Kira straightens. The smile that curves her lips might be fake, but it’s still marked with cruelty.
She yanks her arm from my grasp and flips her hair over her shoulders. “I was just trying to be nice and make conversation because you looked all lonely and pathetic here!”
I chuckle, resting my elbow on the wooden plank behind me, pretending that I’m not affected at all. “Aw… Miss Malone trying to be nice… I hope you didn’t pull a muscle or something,” I shoot back because what the hell else am I to do? Her father has his paws in her, deeper than my father has his in me. A part of me gets it. I’ve seen Malone fist her hair in his hands and drag her out of a room because he didn’t like the attitude behind her words. I’ve seen him ball his fists at her, the look on his face making it evident that it was taking everything in him not to strike her. She has to hate me because hating me is easier than dealing with her father’s wrath. And heavens knows, if we were anything other than enemies, her father would come down on her harder than she could handle.
“Fuck you, Elias,” Kira spits and pushes herself to a standing position. Extending her leg, she kicks me in the shin. It’s always like this with her. With us. Not a single good moment lasts for more than a minute or two. I hiss from the pain. She’s about to descend towards the bottom of the bleachers, when I reach out with my sneaker and trip her, the rage bursting through me like hellfire.
I didn’t think this through, I realize, as Kira goes down, tumbling and crying out in pain.
“Son of a bitch!” she screams, landing on her back in the dried-up dirt, holding her left arm. The skin reddens around the elbow. It starts to swell, a little too fast and a little too much for my comfort.
“Ah, shit…” I mutter, noticing Coach Harding as he crosses the lacrosse field, glaring at me as if I’ve just slapped his mother around.
“Keep playing!” he shouts at the others, then points that angry finger at me again. “Elias Dressler, you brainless little asshole!”
I’m paralyzed, unable to move as Kira moans and cries on the ground. I’m in trouble. I’m in so much fucking trouble, and all because she literally brings out the worst in me. I don’t get it. I don’t understand how the two of us are able to have meaningful conversations, to only blow everything to smithereens five minutes later. I don’t get it…
An hour later, Kira and I are in the principal’s office. Her left arm is wrapped up tightly against her torso, a glum look on her face as she sinks into one of the guest armchairs in front of Principal Johnson’s mahogany desk. I feel bad, but I can’t show it—Dad’s o
n his way, and so is William Malone. I cannot reveal any kind of weakness. It’s deeply ingrained in me not to…
“Mr. Dressler, do you have anything to say to Miss Malone?” Principal Johnson asks, frowning at me. He hasn’t said a word since Coach Harding brought us both in here from the Infirmary—after he made me watch as they but the bandage around Kira’s arm.
If I don’t act like a Dressler when dealing with a Malone, my dad will be pissed.
“She needs to watch her mouth, is all I’m saying,” I grumble, leaning back into the leather armchair. Principal Johnson does not look impressed.
“This is grounds for expulsion,” he replies, and my blood runs cold.
What are the odds that that’ll actually happen, when my dad is one of the school’s top donors? I won’t say that out loud, though. I’ll wait for my maker to say it, when he gets here.
Speak of the devil…
The door opens, and in comes my dad. He’s all suited up, no briefcase, just the phone in his hand, car keys jingling in his pockets. He looks tired, and like this is the last place he wants to be—I can tell from the dip in his brow.
“What the hell happened?!” my dad blurts, shocked by the bandage on Kira’s arm, who can’t even say hello. She looks as though she’s made of ice, not moving in her seat and her gaze fixed on one of the sculptural paperweights on the principal’s desk.
“Hey, Dad,” I say, as casually as I can.
“What did you do?” he asks.
“He tripped Miss Malone. She fell from the bleachers and sprained her elbow. It’s pretty severe,” Principal Johnson says.
“I’m not going to dance for a couple of weeks,” Kira feels the need to add.
“What the fuck?!” William Malone’s voice booms through the office. The room is suddenly too small for the alpha male personalities that have just entered it. Hell, even Principal Johnson looks uncomfortable.
“He broke my elbow!” Kira cries out, all teary eyed.
Crap. If I felt bad for her earlier, well, that’s all gone now. “I didn’t break it. It’s a sprain!”
“I can’t dance anymore!” she shouts.
“For two weeks! Cool your fucking jets,” I reply.
“Elias. Shush,” my dad cuts in, and my lips are sealed.
Mr. Malone puts a hand on Kira’s shoulder, and she narrows her blue eyes at me. “You done messed up,” she whispers, and Mr. Malone squeezes hard enough to make her wince. It also shuts her up, so I’m grateful for that.
The Principal stands up, hands politely settled behind his back. “Mr. Dressler, Mr. Malone, thank you for coming here on such short notice. I’m sorry I had to pull you away from your busy schedules, but this has to be settled, once and for all. Kira and Elias have gotten into trouble one too many times, and I’m afraid the school has run out of patience where the two are concerned.”
Mr. Malone scowls at my dad. “You did this.”
“Fuck you, William. I didn’t do anything. Your daughter provoked my son,” Dad replies, straightening his back. I swear, it’s like watching two silverback gorillas about to fight one another. It makes my face burn.
“Gentlemen, please, let’s watch our language in the presence of children,” Principal Johnson says, offering a faint smile.
“Language? Puh-lease, Kira’s foul mouth is nothing compared to Dad’s,” I mutter. It gets me a slap on the shoulder from my dad.
“Shut up,” he mutters, then shifts his focus back on the principal. “Okay. So, what happened, exactly?”
Principal Johnson sighs, as if he’s about to delve into 1001 Arabian Nights in one go. It makes me roll my eyes—a quick glimpse to my left, and I see I’m not the only one. Kira seems to feel the same way, as I can only see the whites of her eyes now.
“Well, apparently, there was an exchange between Kira and Elias. It culminated with harsh words and Elias tripping Kira. She fell down the bleachers and sprained her elbow. Plus, some other bruises…” Principal Johnson says, keeping it remarkably short.
I guess he’s tired of us. This isn’t our first disciplinary visit, and chances are it won’t be our last before junior high is over, either. Kira and I… we’re volatile. Always drawn to each other, always doomed to explode and get hurt.
“And that part about how the school lost its patience?” Dad asks, cocking his head to the side, as the principal opens his mouth, ready to explain. “What, you think you’re going to expel my son over this? I doubt you’re doing so well in terms of donations in order to afford such an idiotic move.”
It’s enough to cause Principal Johnson’s forehead to smooth, beads of sweat blooming on his face. Dad hit him right where it hurts, and the reality is anything but comfortable. The Dresslers pump a ton of money into this school, on a yearly basis. Dressler Corp. donated the entire computer study room, with custom made furniture from this snazzy Italian designer whose name I keep forgetting.
“Mr. Dressler, what you donate to our school should not excuse your son’s behavior—”
“You might want to rethink that,” Dad cuts him off, smiling coldly.
“Typical. Bribing your way through school so your son doesn’t end up on a back alley with a needle in his vein,” Mr. Malone chuckles, and I can’t stop myself from throwing daggers at him. There’s a lot to unpack in that statement of his, and none of it is true, anyway—but he knows it. The jab was aimed at my dad, in reference to the rumors circling about my mom. I’m just collateral damage.
“Look who’s talking. If it weren’t for your Christmas Ball donations, your daughter would be in juvie right now with Dina Kemper for child pornography,” Dad replies.
“It was a stupid prank, and my daughter did not distribute any of those photos, to begin with!” Mr. Malone says. “Your son, on the other hand, tried to kill my daughter today.”
“I didn’t! It was a—”
“It was a what? An accident?” he interrupts me, and I’m silent again. I can never win with this guy. He hates my dad so much, that he hates me, too, by mere association. He looks at Principal Johnson. “So, are you going to expel this little shit, or does he need to kill my daughter in order for you to do something?”
“Hey…” I manage, unable to stop myself. This is getting way out of hand. I would’ve preferred two hours’ worth of reprimanding from Principal Johnson than even five minutes of this hot mess.
“Enough! No one is expelling Elias!” Dad raises his voice. “I’ll cover your daughter’s hospital bill and treatment. I’ll throw in a nice fruit basket, for good measure. Elias will apologize, and that’s the end of that.”
Mr. Malone eyes Dad carefully. “Back out of the Brooklyn supermall deal, and I’ll consider the fruit basket.”
This is unbelievable. His daughter’s in literal pain, I screwed up, the school wants to expel me, and all he can think about is his business? Seriously? Jesus Christ, I think I see why Kira is so… off. With a father like hers, no wonder she acts out.
“Listen, William. I’m not backing out of any project, and you’re free to pursue whatever course of action you wish against my son,” Dad says calmly. “We’ve got an army of lawyers ready to take you on, as always. But he’s not leaving this school. Take the apology and everything else I’ve offered, or leave it.”
Mr. Malone looks at his daughter for a moment, then at me, then at Dad and the principal. “I’m too busy for this shit,” he ultimately says, and slips his credit card into Kira’s bandage. “Here, check yourself in at the Holy Cross for a proper checkup. I’ll let your mother know.” He smirks at Dad. “I’ll see you at the next round of negotiations for Halifax, then.”
“That you will,” Dad replies, and Mr. Malone walks out.
Kira is utterly befuddled, not that I can blame her. She’s well within her rights, since her father practically bailed on her. Oh, man…
Dad exhales sharply and gives the principal a dry smile. “There we go, Mr. Johnson. All settled. I’ll see you at the next donor meeting. Expect my check
in the mail.” He then turns to look at me. “Come on. We’re going home.”
I get up all sluggish and feeling awful, as Kira watches me with her lips pressed into a thin line. This is too much. I can’t do this.
“Dad,” I whisper, pulling him aside. “Can’t we at least drive her to Holy Cross?”
He scoffs. “No. She’s a big girl. She can take a cab.”
Before I can say anything else, he hauls me out of the office, leaving Kira and an equally stunned principal behind. There’s so much I would like to tell her right now, but I know it won’t change much between us.
Our dads hate each other, obsessively. I doubt Kira and I will ever get past it. I want to, and maybe she’s considered it, too… but our feud feels so old, so deeply embedded into our lives, that it’s become a part of who we are.
Tomorrow, everything will be the same. We’ll curse at each other. She’ll try to pull a revenge prank on me. I’ll pay her back in kind, then feel like shit knowing that I’ve caused her even a sliver of pain, physical or emotional… or both. It’s been this way since I can remember. For years, we’ve been at each other’s throats.
I’d like to say that I look forward to the end of all this, but I’d be lying. Because the end of our feud will probably mean that we won’t see each other again anymore, either. And I don’t like that. For better or for worse, Kira Malone is a part of my life. I didn’t ask for it, but I don’t want it to go away, either.
All I can do is roll with the punches and find a way to enjoy it.
10
Elias
Sheldon La Roche is quite possibly the only person I am able to trust in this world. He’s been my defender and right-hand man since Dad first got sick. He supports me with the same ferociousness he had put in service of my father over more than a decade ago. With Mom out of the picture, finding her way back to herself at a psychiatric clinic - he’s pretty much the closest thing to a parent I’ve had, since Dad died. Unlike my parents, however, Sheldon has always treated me like I’m an adult, aware that I was forced to grow up too quickly.
Beautiful Hell: A Contemporary High School Bully Romance Page 10