Good Girls

by Henry, Max

  I’m going to need a padded bra.

  Either that or I’m going to need to seriously drop this fascination I have with the guy.

  Stupid body.

  The remainder of Friday gives me hope that perhaps Principal Rothwell has more influence than I give him credit for. Nobody slings another insult my way or does a thing to inconvenience me. I’m left so acutely alone that I feel like a ghost slipping through the halls.

  I don’t see any sign of Colt until the end of the day either.

  With reluctant steps, I head toward the front of the school to meet him at the car. Given any other option, I’d head home another way. But when the walk would take me the better part of an hour, I’m not left with many options when I don’t have a bus pass. Actually … I steer right when I hit the front archway and swing around to admin.

  Mrs Blowers greets me with a huge smile. “Lacey Williams. How are you?”

  “I’m hoping you can help me, actually.” I don’t miss the interested lift of the eyes from the parent waiting in the seat to my right.

  Surely my infamy doesn’t extend to the alumni as well? Hell. How bad is our name received around here?

  “What can I do for you?”

  I set my fingertips on the edge of the high counter and lean forward. “Can you tell me what I need to do to take the bus?”

  She frowns. “Are you sure you want to do that when you have another option?”

  “Just as a backup,” I say sweetly. “I’d hate to miss a day if Colt couldn’t drive me.”

  She stands, heading left towards a bank of folders. “What about your parents?”

  “Not convenient for them, unfortunately.” I leave the answer open, hoping she’ll assume they both have work commitments. Not discover that only my dad does, and my mother is too busy playing pretend in the city most days to be available for her children.

  “Well, I guess you can never be too prepared.” Mrs Blowers slides a sheet out from a clear slip inside the folder. “Take this home and fill it out. You’ll need to bring it back with payment for the annual fee. Unfortunately, we don’t have a public service at Arcadia; it’s privately funded.”

  “Oh, okay.” Damn it.

  I guess that’s more of my leftover cash gone. There’s no way I’m bringing this subject up with Mum or Dad. The first thing they’ll want to know is why Colt won’t take me.

  I accept the single-sided form and fold it in half before slipping it in my satchel.

  Mrs Blowers watches me the whole time, waiting until I’m done to lean forward and whisper, “A word of warning, Lacey. The kids on the bus can be a little cruel. It’s hard for the driver to keep them under control while maintaining focus on the road and, well, they get bored on the long drive in so the students tend to act up.”

  “Thank you.” It can’t be worse than what I endure within the school gates.

  I head back out into the stiff afternoon breeze, head down to watch where my feet strike the steps. The unexpected swish of something through the air brings my head up to discover a familiar bay beast before me. I follow the jean-clad leg up the side of the animal’s body and find Tuck staring down at me from the saddle.

  “What you up to?”

  “Nothing.” I shield my eyes from the sun with on hand as I look up at him. “And you?”

  “Saw you head in. Thought you might be asking where your brother’s car is.”

  I frown. “Why don’t I like the sound of this? Isn’t it out front?”

  “Was.” He nudges the animal with his heels. “Follow.”

  I sigh at the absurdity of it and then catch up to Tuck and his horse. He walks the animal at a leisurely pace so that I can keep up beside him as we head down the cobblestone path that leads around the permitter of the school to the farm.

  “I can double you if you want to save your legs,” he offers.

  I glance up at the size of the horse. My head barely makes its back. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  The damn thing turns its head as it walks and huffs out its enormous nostrils at me.

  Tuck laughs. “You offended him.”

  “Great,” I drone. “Not only can I make people angry without trying, but I can annoy animals too.”

  He scoffs, lifting his school hat off the saddle horn to set it on his head and block the sun. Tuck pinches the brim with two fingers and does that uniquely country-boy thing where they seat their hat better.

  The action sends me gooey, my legs weakening on the next step.

  I stumble.

  “You alright down there?” He turns his head to check on me and damn it all if he isn’t the picture of handsome indulgence.

  “Fine,” I choke out, willing my girly weakness to leave me the hell alone. “How do you know where Colt’s car is anyway?”

  Tuck jerks his chin forward as we turn the corner and start on the long stretch past the sports fields. “It’s kind of hard to miss when you head down here.”

  I look up, the gentle clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on the stone decidedly more leisurely than my racing heart. What the hell?

  “How the heck did it get up there?” I shriek, startling his mount.

  The horse takes a step to the right, Tuck quickly pulling it back in line. “Whoa.” He chuckles. “No high-pitch noises around Major, huh? He’s a bit flighty.”

  “Sorry,” I half-heartedly offer, still focused on what is most definitely Colt’s battered Explorer atop the stables. A crowd has gathered around the structure, the commotion growing louder the closer we get. I squint a little, trying to make out Colt among the masses.

  He makes his presence known when the crowd abruptly parts, Colt tumbling out through the gap with what I’m pretty damn sure is Johnson attached to his back.

  “Christ. Could the day get any worse?” I break into a run.

  I’ve got to stop this. Today, it’s a fight over parking pranks. Tomorrow it’ll be something neither of us can control.

  The steady cadence of cantering hooves now matches my heart when Tuck overtakes, calling down as he passes, “I’ll deal with them.”

  He reaches the crowd way before I do, pulling Major to a stop as he simultaneously jumps out of the saddle. The horse backs up, startled by the commotion, somebody from the crowd taking hold of the reins.

  “Enough,” Tuck roars, wrapping an arm around Johnson’s shoulders to pull him off Colt. “You’ve said your piece.”

  I arrive, breathless and thankful. I couldn’t pull a pair of quarrelling kittens apart right now, let alone two full-grown young men.

  “This is bullshit,” Colt hollers, spittle flying as he jerks his arms out. “You’ve got nothing.”

  “Are you calling her a liar?” Johnson shouts, still restrained by Tuck.

  “I guess I am.”

  What the hell are they arguing about? “What’s going on?” I step forward, yet gasp when Colt reaches out and shoves me back with one hand.

  “Stay out of it, Lace.”

  Tuck releases Johnson. “Hey, man. We don’t treat women like that around here.”

  “She’s my sister,” Colt grinds out, not doing himself any favours with the shocked onlookers. “I can treat her however I see fit.”

  “Do it again, arsehole,” Tuck warns. “See what happens.” Johnson steps up beside him.

  “Colt. Leave it.” He’s two on one. He won’t win. “Worry about the car.”

  “Yeah, Colt,” Johnsons leers. “Worry about the car.”

  “Get it down,” Tuck states over his shoulder at his buddy.

  The shocked pinch of Johnson’s brow is mirrored among the crowd. “What?”

  “I said, get it down.” Tuck turns toward him. “Our beef ain’t with the girl, so give her a way to get home.”

  The high-pitch whine of motorbikes dies down behind the crowd. The loyal sheep part once more to let two of the Moto-Hoes idle their bikes to the front of the ruckus. Amber and Mandy sit astride their rides; helmets s
lung on the handles. A pang of jealousy takes me by surprise. They look so fierce, seated on their motorbikes with their riding gear on, hair flowing over their shoulders.

  In comparison, I’m a stupid doll standing over here, useless and unwanted.

  “What’s the problem?” Mandy asks.

  “Nothing.”

  The raven-haired beauty flicks her gaze between Colt and the boys. “Johnson? Is this about what I told you today?”

  He looks suitably scolded, shoulders down, gaze on the ground. The crowd thins.

  “I said I’d take care of that,” Mandy reminds him.

  Interestingly, she looks toward Colt, who then stares elsewhere. What the hell has he done?

  “I’m still not getting the damn car down.” Johnson lifts both hands, turning to walk away.

  Tuck catches him by the back of the shirt. “Yes, you will.”

  Amber’s eyes grow wide. She glares at Tuck. I get the feeling there’s a challenge for authority happening that’s not commonplace at Arcadia. “If he said no, then he won’t,” she snaps.

  “You’ve made your point with the guy,” Tuck repeats. “Now let the girl go home. She’s not the boys’ problem.”

  “No,” Amber leers, cutting her gaze my way. “She’s ours, and we’re here now, so the car stays.”

  “What on earth is happening over here?” The head of farm studies, Mr Fowler, strides across the sports field.

  Tuck takes Major’s reins back from the onlooker so the peasant can flee. Amber and Mandy spin their bikes around with a twist of the throttle and ride off to leave the boys to take the heat. I’d go too if I had an option, but unfortunately, my fastest mode of transport currently sits sky-high, so I’m stuck weathering the storm as well.

  “Who the hell did this?” Mr Fowler hollers, gesturing to the Explorer.

  Tuck glares at Johnson and then steps forward. “I did.”

  What the…?

  “Mr Brallant,” our teacher growls. “Stable your horse and go straight to my office.”

  Tuck hangs his head, walking Major around the building to put him in a stall that isn’t currently threatened by the weight of a vehicle.

  “Mr Davis. You can take great care when using the tractor and set Mr Williams’s vehicle back where it belongs: on the ground.”

  I smile a little. After all that, Johnson will have to get the Explorer down.

  “Mr and Miss Williams,” Mr Fowler barks, turning to Colt and me. “You may also join me in my office.”

  Damn.

  “Either you were all absent during this morning’s assembly, or you simply believe that this kind of behaviour is acceptable,” Mr Fowler states from his position standing behind his desk.

  My gaze drifts over his shoulder to the green tractor that idles past the class block toward where Colt’s car remains on the stables.

  “Miss Williams,” he snaps. “Do I bore you?”

  “Not at all.” I flick my attention back to the teacher before us.

  Colt sits to my left, Tuck to my right. I’m the buffer in this testosterone sandwich.

  “I’m not going to ask for the reasoning behind this,” Mr Fowler explains, finger waving between the three of us, “because I’m not the school counsellor. I’m not equipped to deal with emotional matters. I suggest if there is a dispute to be resolved, you employ the counsel of either your parents or the counsellor. Whomever you choose, the end result is that this spat between you all doesn’t continue. Understood?”

  “With all due respect,” I offer, “I had nothing to do with it.”

  Mr Fowler smiles tightly, seemingly surprised at my audacity to proclaim innocence. “Considering the assembly today was a result of actions against both you and your brother, Miss Williams, I find that hard to believe.”

  “She’s right,” Tuck grumbles. “I’ve only got an issue with her brother.”

  Colt snaps his head around, glaring at Tuck.

  Mr Fowler sighs, eyeballing our group. “Again, I don’t want specifics, kids. Just do us all a favour and figure out how to get along during the remainder of your time here.”

  I frown at his dismissal of the issues at hand. Isn’t his place to guide and advise us? He seems disinterested in if we intend to kill each other or not, only that we don’t commit the sins on his school grounds.

  “Is that all?” Colt asks.

  “For today.” Mr Fowler tucks his hands behind his back and turns toward Tuck. “A formal report will need to be made about this Mr Brallant. I hope you’re prepared for it.”

  The chair scrapes beneath Tuck as he rises to his feet and then marches out of the office. The door rebounds off the stopper. I also stand, nudging Colt to follow. He’s still intent on burning holes in the side of Mr Fowler’s head.

  We file out in silence, Colt bursting into complaint once we’re outside and no longer within earshot.

  “It’s bullshit, you know? I’m the one getting harassed, and yet he grills us as though it’s our fault.”

  “Christ, Colt. Be grateful for the free pass considering you were bloody fighting and move on.”

  He whips his head back as though I struck him, faltering in his steps. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “I got sick of the politics,” I murmur. “Don’t you ever tire of it? The constant power play?”

  He huffs out his nose, boots scuffing the dirt yard as he rounds the corner of the stables to where his Explorer now sits. “Unless you want to be walked over your entire life, sis, then you better learn to love the struggle.”

  Johnson stands beside his truck at the end of the access road, a few yards from the stables. I catch a glimpse of Tuck as he leads Major out of the stall.

  “Give me a second.” I jog away from Colt before he can say anything. “Tuck. Wait up.”

  He glances back at me and then bunches the reins at Major’s neck to hoist himself into the saddle.

  “Thank you for sticking up for me back there.” I decide now isn’t the best time to ask why he took the heat for Johnson.

  His shoulders rise with a deep breath before he looks down at me. “It won’t always happen. You should think about what I said earlier; you guys bring this shit on yourselves with your superior attitude. You city kids are no better than any of us, and out here, you’re even less.”

  He may as well have got his damn horse to kick me for how my chest feels at this minute. Tuck gives Major a nudge and heads toward Johnson. I take a step back, noting that he stops for the briefest moment to say a few words that Johnson tilts his head to receive while staring me down.

  “Lacey! Come on!”

  Tuck kicks Major hard, the beast launching into an impressive gallop, ears pinned back as it carries the guy who I thought was my ally into the distance. Johnson creates a pretend pistol with his hand, firing off a shot at both Colt and myself before he rips the door of his truck open and leaves too.

  I spin to face my brother—the angry traitor—and let my shoulders drop.

  I’m done with trying to win people over. Let them make up their minds about me. What do I care what they think?

  “What the hell was that about?”

  “None of your business.” I round the hood and jump in the passenger seat.

  Colt starts the SUV with a huff. “We need to stick together, Lace. You can’t quit on this.”

  “Quit on what?” I cry. “What the hell is there to gain here?”

  “Everything.” Foot punching the gas, he tears out of the yard sending the animals still in the stables into a frenzy.

  I settle in for the ride, thankful that it should be a quiet ride home.

  Well. Today at least.

  ^*^

  Three hundred and twenty dollars. Ten dollars for each week of the school year to take the damn bus to school. I count my remaining cash again and growl at the meagre stack of bills and coins. After buying my uniform and the new boots, I have less than two hundred remaining.

  Damn it. I’d hoped that I wouldn�
��t need to do this, but I guess here goes nothing.

  I find Mum seated on the porch, wine on the little glass-top table while she scrolls her phone with her thumb.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi, honey.” She doesn’t look up.

  “Can I ask something?”

  “Sure.” Still scrolling.

  I eye the wine and figure if she can go through a bottle of that a day then what I need shouldn’t be a stretch. “Could I get some of that cash I gave you for my uniform back?”

  Her hand stills, and her chin slowly lifts. “Pardon?”

  “I just wondered if you would be able to pay me back a bit of it.”

  “What on earth for?” She seems genuinely amused by the idea. “You’re grounded, remember?”

  “I haven’t forgotten.” I lean a hip against the porch rail and stare out at the houses across the street.

  The whole area is a little run down, but the properties have character. Their saving grace, I suppose.

  “Then, no. You can’t.”

  “Why not?” I cry. “It was my money.”

  “That your father and I gave you,” Mum snaps, setting her phone down. She retrieves the alcohol instead. “So, therefore, it was technically our money.”

  I can’t believe her. “Will I ever get it back?”

  “If I feel you’ve done enough to deserve it.” She takes a sip, the red staining her pale pink lips. “It took me days to get Richard’s mother to calm down after your stunt.”

  “Perhaps she should ask her son what he did to deserve it.” I fold my arms.

  “And perhaps, you should remember your graces,” she counters. “We’ve been out here for all of two months, and already you act like one of these unruly kids. The boots, the language.” She sighs heavily. “Where did my gorgeous doll go?”

  I ignore her soft tone and loving gaze. I see through it now. Not so long ago, she would have fooled me into thinking she truly loved me, but she liked what I could be for her more than who I was.

  I was Mum’s ticket to a secure retirement. Not that women like her really retire.

  “What’s for dinner?” I figure a change of subject would be less confrontational than walking away like I want to.