by Hart, Rebel
Rae scoffed. “Good luck with that.”
I feigned shock. “Why, Miss Cleaver. You’re already in hot water. Whatever did you say that for?”
“I’ll put my fist through your face if you don’t stop.”
“I’d love to see you try.”
Mrs. Christ raised her voice. “Principal’s office. Now!”
Rae bit down on the inside of her cheek in frustration and I blew her a kiss. I slid my sunglasses down on my face, watching her boil over with anger as I tossed her a playful wink. Oh, having history together was going to be fun. Especially right after our lunch break. Back-to-back moments where I got to pick and poke and prod until she finally exploded.
And maybe, I could get her in the principal’s office a few more times with me.
I walked over to the classroom door and held it open for her. I bowed deeply as she walked through, and I felt her bump my forehead with her hip. Hard. The motion made the class cackle with laughter again, but it stunned me for a split second. The softness of her skin. The warmth of her hip. The strength behind it as I stumbled back a bit.
Rae definitely had some secrets underneath those clothes.
And I want to uncover all of them.
I shot up at the thought and shook my head. I let the door bang closed as I trotted to catch up with Rae. She was striding, trying to get away from me as we made our way for the stairs. I shoved the door open, forcing it to swing back before letting go. And as I turned around, I watched Rae hold out her hands. The door slammed back into her, knocking her clear off her feet as curses left her lips.
“Fucking hell, are you serious?”
I puckered my lips. “Oh, baby. You kiss your momma with that mouth?”
She bounced down the stairs. “Get the hell away from me.”
I caught up to her, slinging my arm around her shoulders. “And here I thought we were becoming best buds.”
Then, out of nowhere, she gripped my wrist. She wrangled me away from her body, twisting my arm around my back. She bent my wrist up, causing me to growl out as she shoved me into the wall. And as we stood there on the platform between the staircases, she shoved her knee into the back of my thigh.
“If you ever touch me again, be prepared to lose your hand. Understood?”
I snickered. “Feisty little one, aren’t you?”
She shoved me one last time, then released my wrist. I turned around, rubbing at my shoulder as she made her way quickly down the steps. Well, well, well. Rae Cleaver was just full of surprises, wasn’t she?
It only spurred me on, made me want to rush to her side. I got there just in time to open the bottom stairwell door for her, then ushered her through. She glared at me, causing me to chuckle as her face scrunched up. Those insane freckles on her face always moved at the slightest twitch of her muscles, causing her eyes to ignite. She reacted more than anyone I’d ever picked on. And I enjoyed the way she attempted to defend herself.
Especially when she put her hands on me.
I like them a little spicy.
I strode after her, shouldering her as we made our way for the principal’s office. She scoffed and moved away from me, but I brushed against her again, trying to see how angry I could make her before we got to our final destination. And when she shoved me with her hands, the strength behind her push damn near knocked me off my feet.
I stumbled. “Wow. Got some power behind that push.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
I grinned. “Never thought a goody-good like you would get sent to the principal’s office. That’s usually my forte.”
And while she ignored me, I knew she couldn’t for long.
“Those shorts look good on you. Though your legs could use a fresh shave.”
“Do your bras always look this terrible on you?”
“Why the hell didn’t you just take P.E. our freshman year? You look ridiculous in that getup.”
“Whose jacket is that anyway? Let me see.”
I pulled the jacket off her shoulders and that’s when it happened. She spun around, ripped it clear from my hand, and pressed her fingertips against my chest. She backed me all the way into the wall as I held up my hands, playfully grinning at her as she glared up at me. Her brown eyes went from black tar pits of desolation to glowing amber gems. Lit up by an exploding sky and pulsating with the anger of a thousand rabid dogs.
I’d never seen this side of her before. And it was intriguing.
“Listen here, you waste of space. You’re pathetic. You get underneath people’s skin because you can’t stand your own life, so you have to make everyone else miserable just like you are. I know how you operate, because my mother’s the same way. The two of you are no different, which means I’ll treat you no different. So keep being a manwhore and keep putting out and keep trying to deflect from the sadness you feel inside. And while I’m reaching for the stars, enjoying my life, you’ll be struggling to climb out of the hell hole you’ve dug for yourself. Got it?”
Her nostrils flared. Her eyes grew wider. Her cheeks flushed with a deep red tint, accenting the freckles they backdropped. I almost couldn't take my eyes off her. I almost couldn't slip away from her grasp. But when she shoved my chest one last time, it shocked me back into reality.
“Did you just call your mother a whore?” I asked.
“Ugh!”
She stormed through the front foyer of the school, and I watched as she left. Just… left. She didn’t pass go. She didn’t collect her two hundred dollars. And she sure as hell didn’t follow me to the principal’s office. Oh, that would get her detention. The goody-good who tried her best to be as rich as her best friends would sit her ass in some lonely room for the rest of the week. Which made me salivate with excitement. I mean, there was nothing more fun than ruining someone’s day.
But when I watched those same people ruin their week just to get away from me?
I mean, it was practically a fucking Christmas gift.
5
Raelynn
I sucked air through my teeth as my pencil doodled along the edges of my notebook. After completely bailing school a couple of days ago, I’d been called into the principal’s office first thing yesterday morning. I mean, I didn’t even get through the damn front doors with Michael and Allison before the principal beckoned me with his crooked finger. It made me irate that I was having to pay a price by simply standing up to Clinton Clarke. It was sickening to me that I was being punished after saying what I knew the teacher even wanted to say to him!
And now, here I sat, doodling in my notebook and waiting for the time to pass.
The principal gave me detention after school for an hour for the rest of the week. As recompense for my outburst, for shoving him into a wall—which was wonderfully caught on camera for people to behold—and for storming out of school without a note. Great. Fucking grand. It was me, the nose picker, the born-again meth head, and the drug dealer.
The only good thing about detention was the fact that Clint hadn’t actually showed up. He wasn’t there after school yesterday, nor was he there today. And while I knew he’d pay a hefty price for it, it wasn’t like he cared. Kids like him never cared about that kind of shit. The only thing he cared about was his image, the pussy he wanted to slay, and how he looked riding his bike.
Which was pretty pathetic, if someone asked me.
I sighed as I kept sketching in the margins of my notes from class. I drew little characters to act out scenes from world history we’d already learned about. I drew a bobblehead of Clint with his tongue hanging out and his eyes crossed. I smiled as I made a little speech bubble. I giggled as I wrote out all sorts of jokes that made him look like the knuckle-dragging, drooling idiot he was.
Then the detention teacher shushed me.
I peeked up at him, watching as he went back to reading his book. I rolled my eyes and propped my chin against my hand, continuing to sketch little bobbleheads. I had one of Clint with his ripped leather jacket tosse
d over his face. I had one of him bent over, with his ass crack showing. I had one of him drunk, with his eyes rolled back and vomit sliding down his chin. I quickly felt the therapeutic effects taking hold, and before I knew it there were four entire blank pages filled to the brim with comedic, insulting doodles of this asshole.
Soon, the bobbleheads became extensive drawings. I created an entire character around this guy. A character that went around trying to pick on people before getting his ass beat. The pages of my notebook became comic book blocks. And soon, dialogue flowed from my fingertips. I licked my lips, focusing on the way my pencil markings flowed across the paper. And I thanked my stars I had mechanical pencils. I got them for free at the grocery store, along with the lead. Which meant never having to get up and sharpen my pencil.
So my creative flow was never interrupted.
Serves him right.
I drew him in all sorts of scenarios. Falling into a volcano after being shoved out of a helicopter by Allison. Being tossed to the alligators by Michael after he made an unsavory joke about her. Me, shoving him off a cliff and watching as he plummeted to the water, crying like the gigantic baby he was as his arms flailed around in the air.
An image from my dream bombarded my mind. My own arms flailing as I fell, deeper and deeper into the darkness.
Not even Clint deserves to know what that feels like.
I ripped the page out of my notebook and crumpled it up. Which earned me a hearty shush from the teacher at the front of the classroom. I decided to draw me putting Clint into the wall instead. Shoving him so hard into the wall his nose bled. Pulling at his wrist so much it dislocated. I let my imagination run away with me, concocting all sorts of scenarios where Clint got exactly what was coming to him.
Then I closed my notebook with a sigh.
I looked up at the clock and saw I still had thirty more minutes. Great. Thirty fucking minutes to sit here and contemplate my life. I pulled my ponytail out of its holder and re-did it. Put it up higher on my head to get it off the nape of my neck. I wasn’t sure why the room was so hot, but for some reason I kept sweating down my back. It made my shirt stick to my skin and caused the seat underneath me to grow damp.
And the only thing it made me think about was how relentlessly Clint would be teasing me right now if he were here.
Thank fuck, he isn’t.
I gazed out the window and let my mind wander. I replayed one of the many conversations Allison had already spewed over lunch about her future plans. College, and all that. It didn’t shock me that, miraculously, Michael wanted to go to the same college as her. He pretended that it was because their sports management program was the best in this part of the country. Allison, of course, was clueless about what he was doing. She was clueless about how Michael felt about her, and it was almost comedic. It was so juicy and delicious that I could’ve written an entire comic book series on their interactions. On the way Michael drooled over her and how absolutely brain dead she was to the entire thing.
It was sweet.
In a weird sort of way.
Allison’s conversations had me thinking, though. I mean, regular college would never be for me. But I also didn’t want to work at the grocery store for the rest of my life. If I wanted to really chase a dream, I’d chase character design. I’d apply for schools that cared more about artistic talent than grades, and I’d submit a portfolio. Granted, it wouldn't be a professional portfolio. Just shit I’d done in my art electives. But the thought made me smile.
Being able to do graphic and character design for the rest of my life genuinely made me smile.
Or maybe I could start my own comic book line.
I sighed as I slid down into my chair. Unlike Allison and Michael, however, I’d have to work full time in order to save up the money. I didn’t have the grades for scholarships, and being poor only got someone like me so far with federal grants and shit like that. I sure as hell wasn’t taking out loans, either. Not without some sort of guaranteed way to pay them back. Which meant me working in the grocery store full-time—or working another job full-time—until I saved up the money for my first few semesters.
Which meant Mom couldn't drink my money away.
Which meant I’d have to move out.
Which would cost money for rent and bills and shit like that.
Which I wouldn't be able to afford on an hourly paycheck of minimum wage.
Fuck.
I didn't want to let those things stop me, though. Because every time I walked into my house, it reminded me of the kind of life I didn’t want. It reminded me of the kind of legacy I didn’t want to leave behind. Every time I went over to Allison’s house or Michael’s place, the kind of life I wanted slapped me in the face. And not just the money, either. It was the happiness. Having a loving family that gave a damn about each other. Having mouth-watering food on the table for every meal. Having every kind of drink I could have ever possibly wanted spilling out of the fridge at any given moment.
I didn’t want to just survive, like my mother.
I wanted to thrive, like Allison and Michael.
Shit takes money, though.
Why the fuck did good things always take money?
“Detention dismissed.”
The teacher’s voice caught my ear and I gathered up my things as quickly as I could. I had to work from seven to close at the grocery store tonight. But Michael said he was treating Allison and me to soup and sandwiches. I dashed out of the room, heading straight for the front doors of the high school. I shoved myself out of them, ready to race home to find my bike so I could get to the bistro quicker.
Until a horn honking caught my ear.
“Come on, Rae! Get in!” Allison exclaimed.
She waved her arm out the window to catch my attention and I smiled. I trotted over to the SUV Michael’s parents had bought him and climbed in back, happy to be with my friends. He blazed a trail away from the school, heading into town as Allison craned her neck to look back at me.
“So, how’s the time you’re doing? What’s it like? Does it remind you of prison?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not jail time. It’s just detention.”
Michael snickered. “And we’ve never had detention. You have to fill us in on everything that’s happening. What’s it like? Does it smell? How’s Clint been?”
I sighed. “You know damn good and well Clint Clarke doesn’t show up to things like detention.”
Allison paused. “Wait, he’s not showing up?”
Michael chuckled. “Doesn’t shock me one bit. What do you think they’ll do to him if he doesn’t go?”
Allison scoffed. “The nerve of that jerk. Sticking you in detention by ruffling your feathers, then skipping out on the punishment he deserves. Selfish little—”
I grinned. “Careful, now. You might ruin that pristine outfit of yours.”
Michael sighed. “I mean, he’ll probably get expelled. Which would give us all a nice break.”
Allison fell back into her seat. “Well, I for one hope it happens. Everyone’s tired of that knucklehead.”
I smiled. “Allison, your insults give me life. You know that?”
Michael grumbled, “I can’t stand that guy. Someone needs to beat some sense into him.”
Allison gasped. “Michael. I’ve never known you to be a violent person.”
I snickered. “He’s not, until he is. I’ve seen him come close to punching someone in the face. Remember that guy that kept teasing you sophomore year?”
Allison thought about it. “Oh, my gosh. I completely forgot about that. The foreign exchange student from Germany that we had. Timmy?”
Michael frowned. “Tommy.”
Allison patted his shoulder. “That’s right. Tommy. He was teasing me about my braces, and you stepped in to shut him down. What was it you said to him?”
I shook my head. “I can’t believe you don’t remember this. He said—”
“—If you ever decide to look her
way again with anything but admiration in your eyes, be prepared to lose them,” Michael supplied.
Allison giggled. “Aww, my hero. We can always count on you, can’t we?”
The pride in Michael’s face warmed my heart.
We rode in silence until he pulled the vehicle into the parking lot of the bistro. I looked across the road and sighed, already dreading my four or so hours of work. But it was necessary if I wanted to eat lunch. Or put away any money for my future. Or generally not piss my mother off with not having any money she could mooch off me.
Michael craned his head back. “You ready to go eat? It’s on me.”
I smiled. “I appreciate it, but you know I can—”
Allison cleared her throat. “Let the man pay, Rae. Sometimes, paying makes them feel powerful. Right?”
Michael smiled brightly. “Right.”
I rolled my eyes and giggled as I got out of the car. The three of us walked into the sandwich shop and I ordered as much food as I could without seeming selfish. A full-size sandwich, since Michael got himself one. A bowl of soup, since Allison got herself one. A dessert, since all of us wanted one, and a large drink. Which I could refill and take with me to work.
“I’m proud of you, you know.”
I whipped my head around, staring up into Michael’s face.
“What was that?” I asked.
He grinned down at me. “For standing up to Clint. I’m proud of you. People don’t do that with him, and they should. Someone needs to teach his arrogant ass a lesson one of these days. Maybe they’ll be inspired by how you stand up to him and actually do it.”
Allison slipped between the two of us. “Oh, yeah? And who do you think is going to put the school bully in his place?”
He shrugged. “Anyone, really.”
I sighed. “He’s not worth it, guys. Trust me. Bullies like him feed on the rise he gets out of people. For all we know, he’ll go home and orgasm to it later.”
