by Leon Logos
“So, Carlisle,” he began, leaning back in his seat. “What you do over the weekend? What’s up with that bruise on your forehead?”
“Ran into a pole,” she replied, making up the lie on the spot.
“Must’ve been some pole…” Tony said equivocally.
She looked at him uncertainly, attempting to discern what he was trying to get at. The expression on his face resembled that of a suspicious detective seen both in TV and in real-life. (There had been a couple of nerve-wracking encounters with cops in her days.)
Thankfully, Mr. Marshall commenced class before the conversation could continue any further. To her dismay, what he introduced to them was something unfortunate: a group project. Partner-based. What made matters worse was that Mr. Marshall perfunctorily assigned them partners in two minutes, pinning her with Tony (just because of the seating arrangements). Tony looked unbothered at this. In fact, he looked gladder than anything. Mr. Marshall gave them the rest of the class to discuss the project with their partners and affiliate with each other. Or start on it, if desired.
“Looks like we’re in this together,” said Tony amusingly. “So, who’s doing what? You gonna slide me your number?”
Serenity sighed dismally. The project was to simply dissect the acts of ‘Macbeth’ in the form of a PowerPoint presentation. They were given Act 4, which was one of the more extensive acts in the entire play. She didn’t trust Tony enough to do anything; she’d happily do the whole thing by herself, without Tony making any contributions. But she wondered how to make the time to work on it; she didn’t have a computer or a USB. And working with the school computers was not an option, since Desmos would never let her stay after dismissal time.
Tony took out a MacBook Pro from his bag and set it down on his desk. He lifted the lid and turned on the computer.
“We can work on it right now,” Tony said reasonably.
“That’s fine,” she replied; this resolved all her potential setbacks.
Despite the computer belonging to Tony, she did all the work. Tony, who didn’t have the faintest idea what ‘Macbeth’ was even about due to not paying attention, was incapable of helping at all. While she did all the work, designing the PowerPoint and studying the Act 4 material, Tony was rolling a marijuana cigar surreptitiously behind the teacher’s back. He was immersed in his task, not even taking care to watch out for Mr. Marshall.
“Can you put that away?” she requested, without looking at him.
“Relax, Marshall’s a bum, he won’t notice,” said Tony insouciantly.
“You’re taking big risks,” she urged.
“Chill out, no need to worry about me,” Tony winked.
“I’m not worried about you, but rather myself,” Serenity pressed. “I could get in trouble on the account of you.”
Tony clicked his tongue in annoyance, pocketing the weed.
“Just get back to work,” he snapped.
“Gladly, without your help.”
She was glad when the period finally ended. The PowerPoint was half-way done, ready to be completed next class. Tony tried to have a word with her before she left the class, but it didn’t happen. She was insistent on leaving and that was what she did.
Her next period was Chemistry, a class that was always worth attending. It took six minutes to reach Mr. Ramos’s room, which was located in a separate building. Amara was waiting for her in their table. It felt like ages since she had last saw her; it had been a long weekend… As soon as Serenity took her seat, Amara burst out in conversation. At first glance, Amara appeared to be shy and taciturn. Serenity certainly believed that to be true; until she had approached her and then subsequently befriended her.
Mr. Ramos lectured on aqueous solutions. Although he was passionate with his teaching, the same could not be said for the students. 90% of the class did not pay attention to Ramos’s class; ear-buds in, they were distracted on their phones and talking among each other. If not that, sleeping. Mr. Ramos was virtually talking to a wall; he clearly noticed the lack of attentiveness in his class but carried on without mentioning it. Serenity felt bad for him; it was disrespectful for the students to act like this. They knew they didn’t have to pay attention or study because the tests were too easy to cheat on. In fact, all the work they did in the class was easy to cheat on. As much as she respected Ramos, she couldn’t help conforming to the slack atmosphere and converse with Amara.
“Thanksgiving break is in three weeks,” said Amara. “Finally.”
“Is it really? It feels like I’ve been here for months,” Serenity said thoughtfully. “Yet it’s only my second week.”
“Are your Thanksgiving plans still the same?” Amara asked.
“Yeaaah, pretty much,” Serenity lied.
“What are you most looking forward to? I just can’t wait to feast on my mother’s cooking!” Amara exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.
“There should be some fun activities…” Serenity replied dreadfully.
This was true to an extent; for the holidays, they sometimes did do activities, but it was far from fun. For instance, a few Thanksgivings ago, they had a turkey-hunting competition in their rural home in Minnesota. The objective was to hunt as many turkeys as possible in the forest four miles from their house; she was forced to participate, and the rule was that the person with the least amount of turkeys hunted got punished. Considering her kill count was zero, she unsurprisingly lost. The punishment had two parts; one, being unable to eat dinner that night; two, hanging upside down from tree branch ten feet in the air, for an hour, with a rope attached to her feet and the branch. It was a truly hellish experience.
Another time, one Halloween, the brothers had tricked her into going trick-or-treating with them. This particular Halloween, they dragged her to a cemetery and had a grave desecrating competition. That night ended with a police chase. They were nearly caught, too. Holiday-themed activities in her family were abysmal, worse than training.
“You guys do activities? That sounds like fun. Your folks must be exciting to hang with,” Amara said, in awe.
“They certainly are,” Serenity frowned.
Mr. Ramos ended the lecture and wrote down their classwork on the board. Again, it was basic bookwork pertaining to the lesson. Amara immediately searched up the answers online, like everybody else. For some strange reason, Mr. Ramos seemed to be oblivious to the fact that his students perpetually cheated in his class. Though, it was plausible that he simply didn’t care; retirement was just around the corner for him. Serenity copied off Amara after she had finished.
Lunch was directly after Mr. Ramos’s class, before the last period of the day. Amara walked with her to the courtyard to get food outside. The cafeteria was always too packed, since most students preferred eating under the shelter of cool air conditioning and protection from the rain. When all the seats were occupied, some students would sit on the floor. Just as Amara began questioning the bruise on her forehead, the perpetrator of the aforementioned showed up.
They both halted as the towering Garen blocked them.
“Excuse me?” Amara asked uncertainly.
Garen ignored Amara, not even looking at her. His focus was on Serenity. Hopefully, Garen did not make a scene when in Amara’s presence. Though, it was now inevitable that Amara would learn of Garen’s relationship with her.
“Come on, Desmos told me to get you,” said Garen.
He was referring to Desmos’s order from the previous Friday which stipulated she now had to inexplicably sit with them during lunch. She had forgotten about it. Amara glanced at Serenity, awaiting her response.
“I don’t want to,” Serenity said firmly. “Tell him that.”
“Don’t make this hard on yourself,” Garen said, vexed.
“He doesn’t even give me an explanation and expects me to obey?” Serenity scoffed. “How about you tell me why I can’t sit with my friends?”
“‘Friends’?” Garen repeated, with a derisive laugh. “What friends? Yo
u mean this little girl next to you? You should know by now, making friends never works out for us, specifically you.”
“Serenity?” Amara asked cluelessly. “Do you know this guy?”
“Let’s go. I suggest you don’t piss Desmos off, especially when he’s in this place,” Garen warned.
Garen was right; Serenity didn’t want to deal with an enraged Desmos, who had the potential to be as terrifying as Gunther. But she also didn’t want to abandon Amara, who undoubtedly would demand the context of this situation.
“All right, just give me a minute,” she mumbled.
Serenity turned to Amara dolefully. Garen walked away, without another word, back to the table where all the brothers could be seen eating. Agno was in the center of attention, appearing to be telling a vicarious story, judging by his (inappropriate) gesticulations and immersed audience.
“I’ll explain later, but I need to go…”
“Go where? You’re leaving me? Who was that jerk?” Amara asked, offended.
“He’s my brother,” Serenity confessed, deciding to tell the truth. “I promised I’d sit with him for something. It’s not important. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Okay?”
“If it’s only for today, then I guess that’s fine,” Amara forgave. “But who’s this ‘Desmos’? He mentioned him a lot.”
“Like I said,” Serenity said hastily, “I’ll explain later.”
“All right,” Amara nodded. “But Jesus, your brother’s huge…”
As she sat with the others, they didn’t even acknowledge her presence. It ticked her off. Except Desmos, they were all listening attentively to Agno’s story. Amara was watching them from the opposite side of the courtyard, looking morose. Serenity stared directly at Desmos heatedly, waiting for him to notice her incensed gaze. Sure enough, he turned his head and stared right back at her with a look that essentially meant: “Why the angry face?” Though Desmos knew why she was mad, and he didn’t care one bit.
“What are you going to do if I just walk off right now?” Serenity tested.
Desmos waited a moment before replying. He wheeled his body around completely to face her directly, right in front of her. Now, he was giving her his full and undivided attention.
“I’m not sure you’d like to know,” said Desmos mysteriously. “I might just have to bring out an old friend of yours.”
She wasn’t certain what Desmos was referring to, but she could only guess. Something was telling her it wasn’t a person but rather something personified; maybe a training exercise they used to do in the past that tortured her? The first thing that came to mind was the one-handed rock climbing; years ago, they used to train by climbing colossal outcrops that were virtually impossible to scale, even with two hands. Once, after a high drop, she had severely injured her spine which almost resulted in permanent paralysis. They all came to a consensus that it was too risky, even by their standards, after the other brothers sustained unnecessary injuries as well. But what made the training so rigorous was her inability to endure; she’d fall once and already feel incapacitated. But Gunther or Desmos would make her do it again and again for hours. By the end of it, lifting her arms was comparable to lifting a ton. Even moving a muscle slightly would burn agonizingly. The rock-climbing was memorable, but not the worst.
She didn’t want to dwell on the topic. Desmos was resolute on his decision to not brief her on the situation at hand, but this was no time to quit.
“Don’t I have a right to know what you’re planning?”
“Maybe so,” Desmos replied, eyeing something over her shoulder. She turned around curiously to see Tony swaggering up to them, e-cigarette in hand.
“Woah, this your crew?” Tony whistled, taking a gander at the brothers.
It seemed Agno had cut his story short or finished it, as all of them shifted their attention to Tony, who looked slightly intimidated.
“What do you want, Tony?” Serenity asked irritably.
“It’s got to do with the project we’re doing in English, but maybe we should talk alone, you feel me?” Tony said audaciously, disregarding the lethal occupancy of the brothers in the same table.
“Just say it here, it’s just a project,” Serenity replied, with no desires to be alone with Tony at any time or place.
“Nah, man,” Tony clicked his tongue, in annoyance. “Just give me your number. I’ll text you.”
Serenity opened her mouth but then closed it. Did she really want to give Tony her number? The prospect of receiving continuous flirtatious texts unrelated to school from him all day loomed in her mind. This was something she’d rather avoid. But the courteous side of her prevailed. Also, this was a chance to get rid of him for now.
“Give it to him,” Desmos whispered in her ear.
Serenity looked back at him, dazed. Was he encouraging this? Why?
“Um...206-302….” she began, keeping an eye on her eldest brother.
Once Tony finished putting down her number, he offered his own. Again, out of courtesy, she listened, but didn’t bother memorizing it. Tony briskly left, satisfied after the exchange of numbers. After he was gone, Desmos and Kyler got to their feet in unison. She watched as Desmos whispered something into Kyler’s ear. Kyler nodded and departed the area immediately. The remaining brothers left the table, going their separate ways. This conveniently left only herself and Desmos. From the other side of the courtyard, Amara was gaping at her, dumbfounded.
“Don’t be late today,” Desmos reminded, before he ultimately left.
There were still about twenty minutes left until the end of lunch, and she wasn’t going to spend it alone. Just as she was about to beckon Amara to come to her table, Amara was already on her way, jogging towards her. Her mouth was still opened as she reached the table and took a seat next to her. Serenity knew the cause of Amara’s astonishment.
“Already?! You gave him your number already?” Amara said, astounded.
“Stop exaggerating, I only did it to be nice,” Serenity said defensively. “Besides, we’re just going to discuss the Macbeth thing.”
“You and I both know Tony’s after you,” Amara affirmed. “Listen; Tony’s a loser, if he asks you out be ready to REJECT.”
“I get it,” Serenity said unconcernedly. “I can handle him. Stop treating it like a big deal. Now, you want to get lunch? We still have time.”
“Yeah, yeah, but one more question. Who were those other guys you were sitting with?” Amara asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” Serenity replied automatically. “Let’s go.”
Admitting Garen was her brother was one thing…but admitting that the other five were? This was out of the question. She still could prevent the truth from spilling out, but it would probably reveal itself eventually. Amara followed Serenity into the cafeteria, fervently emphasizing on the importance of turning down Tony. The lines for food were considerably shorter now that the majority of students already had gotten their trays. Today, lasagna that tasted strangely like fish was served. The lunch lady scooped lasagna onto her tray, looking ill-tempered. Having to serve bratty teens food for a half-an-hour, five days a week, must’ve annoyed her.
“Since you’ve never had a boyfriend before, let me give you some advice,” Amara suggested.
“I don’t need dating advice,” Serenity reassured her. “I’m not planning on dating. Ever. Nobody in their right mind would date me anyway…”
“That’s ridiculous, you’re so pretty!” Amara denied. “And looks aside, your way more amiable than I am.”
Serenity didn’t respond. You don’t know me, she thought, but didn’t say out loud. That would’ve been offensive to say, despite the truth behind it. Who’d want to date a killer? Apart from that, someone with a family like hers? Any boy who dated her would be put in immediate danger, by the brothers or Gunter. Gunther had established a rule against dating, as he didn’t want any of them to be distracted or affiliated with someone that could potentially cause them trouble. This rule was one of
the few that Serenity wholeheartedly agreed with. Miraculously, that one friend she had brought to their house, years back, did not get killed.
The next day at school was interesting. Her Algebra II teacher was absent, leaving them stuck with a substitute teacher that did not speak much English. Clearly, she was of Hispanic ethnicity. The accent was a dead giveaway and then was her use of Spanglish. Mrs. Ortiz, which was her name, mispronounced the majority of their names.
The mispronunciations intensified as the list went on. The class snickered each time.. Serenity’s surname was read wrong as well, but it didn’t bother her. She had plenty of experience with Hispanics from her time in Miami, a place that was enjoyable for the most part. Miami was a cultural city that encouraged diversity, and it was myriad with immigrants. Their teacher, Ms. Green, had left them work to do. Of course, 80% of the class didn’t bother completing it. For a student, have a sub was an invitation to a slack day in class. Serenity completed the work for the grade since it was easy.
Of course, she didn’t have to, considering she’d be leaving the school very soon. But simplistic math compelled her to work on it. Amara was spamming her phone with text messages, interrogating her about the night before. As expected, Tony texted her the previous night. But to her surprise, the subject was solely the Macbeth project. After a brief discussion regarding the completion of the project, that was it. Amara insisted Tony was just making small-talk to maintain a casual relationship, before veering off about dating and his true intentions. Of course, Serenity reiterated that Amara was overreacting and told her to stop bringing it up. To change the subject, she asked Amara about class. But Amara didn’t text back after that; she did mention she was taking a test.
During lunch, Serenity was still expected to sit with the brothers if she saw them. In reality, it wasn’t so bad because they’d all just leave twenty minutes into lunch time. After that, Amara would return as her usual seating partner. As it became an everyday thing, her friend questioned the reasons behind being mandated into sitting with them. Serenity fed her a lie about helping them with classwork. It sounded lame at first, but once it came out of her mouth the die was cast. From here, the lie would just expand.
