by Danae Ayusso
“Ooh,” the rest of the class said, enjoying the show.
I looked to Shep, expecting him to be pissed since he was the only one allowed to insinuate that his sister is a hooker, but he merely shook his head.
Dillon smiled. “Oh Pauly, Pauly, Pauly,” she tisked.
Paul’s face dropped.
Apparently, I missed something.
“And send,” Draven said from the doorway, before pocketing his cell phone. “It was nice knowing you, Paul,” he said, heading across the room and smooched his lips at me in passing.
I gagged, causing him to chuckle.
“Siding with them as usual?” Paul demanded and it was followed by his cell phone ringing. “I hate you,” he sneered, sending it to voicemail.
“Any reason to see Kenyan rearrange that questionable face of yours is as good as any,” Draven said, uninterested.
Paul glared at him and his phone started ringing again before he sent it to voicemail. “I hate you,” he hissed.
I leaned into Shep. “What did I miss?” I asked.
“Paul’s as good as dead when Kenyan gets a hold of him,” Shep said. “Think of him as my lovely sister’s guard dog. He’s the wrestling coach and will take insurmountable pleasure in snapping Paul’s neck for that little display of disrespect towards his woman.”
The twins behind us nodded with smiles.
Now I’m really confused. Dillon has a boyfriend? Why didn’t she mention it…
Wait, that’s what she meant at the bar when I passed out on the pool table. When Price commented about him letting her stay in that roach infested apartment she had, and Dillon said that he didn’t. She was speaking of Kenyan not allowing her to stay in the roach motel, and instead she was staying with him.
Got it.
It still would have been nice to know though.
Draven laughed when Paul’s cell phone rang for the third time before the temperamental douche finally turned it off.
Perhaps high school truly is the death match Shep complained it was.
“I want two-thousand words on what you did this summer,” Dillon said to Draven then she groaned. “Shit,” she huffed, realizing what his summer entailed.
Draven smiled wide. “Ooh, it’ll be just like my letter to Penthouse,” he mused.
“Don’t make me sic my guard dog on you, too,” Dillon warned, wagging a scolding finger at him, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement.
Of course, he smiled then smooched his lips at her.
“There truly is nothing he won’t hump, huh?” I mumbled.
Remi nodded. “Man whore,” she teasingly sang.
“That’s an understatement,” Shep agreed.
Dillon came over to my desk while I searched through my bag. “You can use your laptop if you want,” she said.
I shook my head. “I like paper and pen. What’s this…” my words trailed off when I pulled out a kraft takeout box tied with a black ribbon.
Dillon shrugged.
There was a folded piece of black cardstock tucked under the ribbon so I opened it and smiled when I read the delicate silver calligraphy.
Eat something so you aren’t moody. -D
Price had warned me about bringing something to munch on since I’d have a late lunch. Since I hadn’t taken care of it, he must have, and slipped a snack box in my bag for me when I wasn’t looking.
He really is an amazing man and father. Anyone that goes out of their way to make sure this little street kid is taken care of like that deserves a big hug and thank you.
“Mikey?” Dillon whispered, shaking my shoulder
“May I sit at your desk to do the assignment so I can eat?” I asked. “I threw up earlier so I’m hungry.”
She forced a smile and nodded. “Of course. Let me know if you need anything. You don’t have to write about the summer, you can write about whatever you want.”
I snorted. “This summer was the greatest of my life! Of course, I’m going to write about it. You’ll just have to suffer through my chicken scratch,” I teased, stepping around her with the kraft box in hand and bag slung over my shoulder.
I didn’t have a problem writing about this summer. It was, without question, the most interesting and life changing. I made sure, even double-checking and editing my writing three times, that the annoying boyband reject wasn’t mentioned in the first paragraphs before I was confident enough that I wouldn’t mention him in the next.
Sitting at Dillon’s desk put me in front of everyone, which I wasn’t shy about, but their bitching and squabbling was irritating the shit out of me since it was ruining my snack time. I put my headphones on and listened to music while I wrote, my head bobbing, keeping time with the beat. The snack box was a perfectly organized meal with compartments for each thing so they didn’t touch. It was a bit OCD but it was perfect: three small almond croissants, three wedges of a creamy white-rind French cheese that I didn’t know the name of, slices of pear that were sweet and the texture complimented the other components in the box, and candied pecans. When you put them all together, they made the perfect little meal.
It was genius!
The only thing missing was fancy sparkling water or creamy coffee.
Perhaps next time I’ll remember to grab a bottle from the fridge before heading to school.
I jumped, startled, when something touched my shoulder.
“Sorry,” Dillon apologized when I pulled my headphones off. “Time,” she said. “Volunteer to go first?” she asked, looking around the class that was looking at me for some reason.
I didn’t fart in class or anything so why are they staring at me like that?
I tugged on Dillon’s arm. “Why are they looking at me like that?” I whispered.
Dillon offered a small smile that quickly fell. She took my paper I had been writing on and showed it to me.
Instead of the assignment, it was filled with lyrics.
“Shit, I was a singing under my breath, huh?” I groaned.
The class nodded.
“Oops,” I said, making a face. “My bad. Looks like I fail this one,” I said, gathering my stuff then headed back to my desk.
“Turn it in by the end of the day and we’ll call it good,” Dillon said. “Volunteers?” she asked, again.
Draven raised his hand.
“Anyone?” Dillon asked.
When no one else raised their hands, she shook her head and motioned him to the front of the class.
Draven got to his feet and confidently strolled to the front of the room with his tablet in hand, the red stylus sticking out from the case. “This summer,” he said with a soft moan, “I tasted the pleasures that Anaconda’s tourist season had to offer. A luscious redhead named Melody proved to be most enjoyable–”
“That is enough, Draven,” Dillon interrupted, glaring at him.
“Aw, come on. I didn’t even get to the brunettes or the Asians yet. Chinese twins are hard to find in Anaconda!” he informed her.
I looked up from the paper I was trying to write so I didn’t have to do it during lunch to the smiling, smug douche standing in the front of the class.
He can’t be serious.
Dillon wasn’t amused. “I said that’s enough,” she warned.
Half of the class laughed, I was slightly nauseous, and he appeared overly proud of himself as he continued, going down a long list of conquests without getting too graphic, while ignoring Dillon’s repeated complaints.
Apparently, he was penciling in listening to me ramble every morning while he threw it in every woman with a pulse that wandered into the county in the afternoons and evenings.
“Then the summer got really exciting,” Draven said and I shook my head, already aware of what he was going to do, and it was something that would end in blood.
His, I was sure.
“A lost little kitten without coordination stumbled across my path,” he said, looking at me, and everyone else looked at me as well. “Imagine my surpri
se when that same little kitten wandered through the doors of this prestige learning institute. How stimulating this little mystery and adventure will be. It makes not going to Paris for the year nearly acceptable.”
I flipped him off.
He smooched his lips together before heading back to his seat.
Again, I gagged.
Dillon shook her head. “Anyone else?” she asked.
Of course, no one raised their hands.
“Shep?” she asked, her eyes pleading.
“Have one of the twins go,” Shep said so I punched him in the arm for her. “Ow.”
I raised my hand. “I’ll go. I have a page and a half written before the lyrics start so that should prove to be something,” I said, getting to my feet.
“Thank you,” Dillon whispered.
I looked from the expectant class to the rough draft I had written before I went to la-la land in my head because of the music in my ears. “This summer I got to ride cross country with a U.S. Marshall handcuffing me to my seat at every stop. He really should have seen it coming when I kneed him in the balls,” I said with a smile and the class laughed. “The reason why I was going cross country on a train from Philadelphia to Anaconda, Montana, to a place I never even heard of, isn’t important. But what I found there was.
“Silent friends I have after dinner raves with. A boxing companion that has a hot bod and textbook form, and is rather enjoyable to look at,” I said, blushing, and Shep smiled wide. “I got a giant lapdog with the worst breath imaginable, a horse that won’t leave me alone, a grandma that I know smoked weed with Cheech and Chong back in the day and rode the impressive tongue of a certain bassist,” I paused them shivered, causing the class to laugh and gross out at the same time. “But the most significant things that came of this summer was I got family that doesn’t get me but they get me better than I wish they did. A big sister that’s a total Betty. A father that loves me when he really shouldn’t, because let’s face it, I’m not quite right!” I said, smiling wide as if I was crazy, and the class laughed.
“But the most significant thing was what I found when I needed it most before it abandoned me without giving it a second thought…” I didn’t mean to say that out loud. “Oh well. That’s the joys of summer, I guess. You never know what you’ll get or the adventures you’ll have, but you’ll remember them always, good or bad. I boarded a train headed west and expected the worst, and ended up with something I never imaged having: a home, love, security, warm meals, and everything that a street kid like me has never had before. So, that’s my summer.”
I started to head back to my seat, but Lizzy stopped me in mid-step. “So you were a broke bitch that up and left her mom in order to play daddy’s little girl because he has money? And they have the nerve to call me a heartless bitch.”
Where’s Justice when I need her?
This bitch is so going to get fed to Dandy if she keeps running her mouth.
I couldn’t look at her, Draven was much too close to her, and if I looked at her, my eyes would immediately go to him.
“Unlike train pulling whores, much like you, in my case money had nothing to do with it,” I informed her, trying to keep from going ghetto.
Justice would have used Remi’s knife on the snobby bitch by now.
“Bullshit,” Lizzy sang, “Money has everything to do with it. Let me guess, Daddy is too good for your whore mommy?” she mused.
“That’s enough!” Dillon warned.
“To say the least,” I agreed. “But it isn’t because of the money. My mom never deserved my father, but, most importantly, she didn’t deserve the nine-inch kitchen knife that was slammed into her body over three dozen times by her dealer boyfriend that got high off his ass the night before and forgot he dropped half of his inventory in the toilet and thought she was stealing from him again so he killed her. Mom didn’t deserve that, but she didn’t deserve my father either. Was there anything else you wanted to add, Bitchzilla?” I asked, looking over at her and cocked an eyebrow in warning.
She was either exceptionally stupid or suicidal.
I’m leaning towards both.
“So you’re a crackwhore like your mom?” she laughed, and it was followed by a loud slap.
My eyes snapped to the source of the assault.
Everyone else was looking at him as well.
Draven was glaring at the stunned girl. “Ta gueule,” he warned, his accent flaring heavily.
When she started to open her mouth, he raised his hand, warning that he’d hit her again.
“Va te faire enculer,” Draven sneered.
Lizzy shied away from him, rubbing the rapidly swelling red handprint on her face.
Paul got to his feet so Draven got to his, and they started shoving each other. They were yelling in French so quickly that I could only pick up one or two words—sister and blood—but aside from that I was at a loss.
“This isn’t normal, right?” I asked no one in particular.
Remi shrugged, wrapping the Surface tablet I gave her up in the sweater from her bag before stashing it in her backpack. “Yes and no. Usually it’s them fighting your family, not each other. So this is new.”
I nodded. “And here I thought Bloods and Crips were bad.”
She chuckled.
Dillon went over to the fighting boys and tried to separate them, getting pushed in the process. She stumbled before falling to the floor on her ass.
“Oh shit,” Paul said.
“Merde,” Draven groaned and headed towards her.
Shep was out of his seat before I could stop him, and he threw himself at Paul, knocking the cockgoblin over the desks and to the floor.
Paul was on bottom, trying to block the lightning fast punches Shep was landing when Christian started for them.
I looked at Bleu and Kieran and they both smiled.
Kieran jumped out of his seat and ran across the tops of the desks then threw himself at Christian when he pulled his arm back to punch Shep.
Bleu hurried over to help his brother and ended up with Lizzy on his back.
To my surprise, Draven was helping Dillon up, being punched in the gut in return by the pissed off woman.
The rest of the class was retreating from the room, trying to stay out of the crossfire of chairs and desks that were being thrown and kicked across the room.
“Stay and fight or risk detention,” Remi said, offering a two finger salute then headed out the door with the others.
Damn it. What do I do?
I’ve never ran from a fight in my life, especially if those I care about are involved. But this might be normal considering, and that isn’t anything I’m familiar with or know what to do with. Gang violence was common in Philly, but these aren’t gangs. They are families that are feuding, from what I’ve come to understand.
“Damn it,” I huffed, hurrying over to Dillon’s desk and put my backpack under it for safe keeping
If something happens to my laptop, I will lose my shit and everyone will be going to the hospital while I go to a holding cell.
That’s the street side coming out without Justice behind it.
Dillon shoved Draven off her. “Fix this,” she hissed, jabbing her finger into his chest.
Draven nodded and went over to Paul and Shep and tried to separate them, but there was no sense of urgency since Paul was getting his ass handed to him now.
I went over to Dillon, keeping an eye on the others.
“What... This is wrong, right? This isn’t normal?” I wanted to clarify.
She shook her head. “It is, but it isn’t. Goddamn Van Zuls just have to run their mouths. Usually it isn’t them against each other though. Kenyan is going to have their asses for this, not to mention what Price will do. I hope Soren is out of town still.”
I dusted her off since her black skirt had some chalk on it.
“That’s one way to get to second base,” Draven teased then winked when I flipped him off.
Dillon
shook her head. “Ignore him. Are you okay? You didn’t have to share or rebut that annoying little bitch. Anything and everything out of her mouth is rude and belittling, and without her knowing why you’re here she would have made up something a lot worse just to get attention.”
I snorted. “Now you tell me.”
She chuckled.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry I got in the zone and turned my paper into lyrics for Em.”
Dillon gave me a look. “Mikey, you impressed everyone with your soft singing. You should look into choir or something.”
I shook my head. “That ain’t my thing, but I made a promise to a few of my homies that I would help them with some tracks. Now I have the time and resources so I’ll honor those promises. My word is the only thing the crackwhore couldn’t take from me.”
Dillon shook her head, looking aspirated. “You are such a weird kid,” she said, endearingly.
“Uh huh,” I huffed, looking around.
Most of the class was in the hallway waiting for the melee to be over. Bleu had Lizzy on the ground and was sitting on her, pinning her arms down so she couldn’t assault him anymore, while messing her hair up simply because he could. Christian had Kieran pushed up against a wall, but they weren’t fighting. I’m not entirely sure what they were doing, but there’s no denying the intimacy in the way Christian was caressing Kieran’s arm.
Awkward.
“I’m glad to see I’m not the only crazy bitch here. It’s nice and strangely refreshing,” I said.
When Draven pushed Shep off Paul, it caused Shep to fall to the floor and Paul scrambled after him.
“Damn it. Hold on, Misha!” I called out and I ran over to them.
Paul was punching him, but Shep was blocking like a pro.
I grabbed one of the English Lit books from the stack on the windowsill in passing.
“Hey, Cockgoblin!” I called out.
Paul looked up just in time to catch the full force of the book slamming into his face, lifting him up off Shep, knocking him back into Draven.
