F*ck You: Knox Academy - Term One

by Jaye Cox

  We finish our food and Elsie walks me back to my dorm, she complains that she is in the shit rooms, because she has to share with a girl who likes to eat a lot of garlic. I haven’t told her that my almost-step-father is the principal. I don’t want anyone to think I have special treatment.

  Chapter Two

  Susan vibrates on my bedside table as I try to figure out how to tie the damn bow for my uniform. I manage to get it done, a little lopsided but done all the same. Susan keeps making obnoxious noises. Opening the screen, there’s an alert that all students must be in the auditorium by 8am sharp.

  I’m seriously pissed about all of it: first, who starts school that early? Second, what’s the point in making me start at a new school on a Friday? Surely they could have given me today and the weekend to settle in? It’s so stupid.

  Another thing that has me crazy pissed off is that today is my brother’s birthday. Not yesterday like the incubator thought. It’s the 22nd of September, always has been. How can she remember that it’s my birthday on Tuesday, but get his wrong? I’m so mad that I won’t get to see him on his birthday – for the first time in my life – but I’m heartbroken that I won’t even get to speak to him either.

  Looking at the time, I realise I spent the best part of an hour doing my bowtie and shit, so I’ll have to skip breakfast. Pulling on the death traps this place calls shoes, I grab my Academy backpack which is filled with everything I will need for the day.

  It feels like it takes ages for Susan to politely direct me to the correct location, but somehow I’m still early. My stomach grumbles and I briefly wonder if I did have time for breakfast after all. Oh well, it’s too late now. I find a seat somewhere in the middle, doubting there is any kind of specific seating arrangement. It doesn’t take long for students to start filing in, loud chatter filling the room.

  The uniforms, blazers, and standard issue backpacks make this place look like any elite private school. It doesn’t look like a gathering of delinquents and criminals to me, at all. As my eyes scan the crowd, I don’t see Elsie anywhere. I do however see Kalen, his boy next door charm radiating off him. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find him attractive. He is closely followed by two boys, both identical. The perfect image of my twin sexual sandwich fantasy. Hot, muscles for days, tall, smiles that could melt the panties off me. Shit, the thought causes me to clench my legs together. Maybe it’s a coincidence or maybe not, but Kalen’s gaze flicks to mine the instant my thighs tighten. He leans in and says something to the guys with dark-chocolate hair before coming my way. Instead of taking the stairs in the aisle like a normal person, he jumps from seat to seat until he is falling into the seat beside me. He props his legs over the seat in front of him and swings an arm around my shoulders.

  “New girl! Did you miss me?” he asks with far too much energy for so early in the morning. I look at him, watching the way his lips pull up into a smirk and liking the way his blue eyes sparkle.

  “Who are you again?” I look away, back towards his friends, but my twin fantasy dies as quickly as it began with the stony glares they are throwing my way. I shoot them a look that says, ‘what the fuck is your issue?’ but their expressions don’t shift.

  “I’m your future husband,” Kalen declares, loudly, which causes a few girls to turn in our direction, daggers shooting from their eyes.

  “Kalen, the only person you would marry is yourself. Why don’t you be a good little boy and run back to your brothers?” Elsie snarks at him as she takes a seat beside me.

  Kalen's face morphs into a sneer. “Why don’t you go lick some more pussy?” he spits.

  “Why, jealous I get more than you do?” she throws back. She looks towards me nervously, like she’s fearful of how I’ll react to the news of her being a lesbian. I don’t care. Why would I?

  “Sorry, that’s a no to being your future wife, Kalen. Elsie, I’m afraid you’re way out of my league too.” Elsie laughs, relieved that I’m okay with her sexuality. Kalen leans in close. He smells so damn nice that I inhale a little too loudly and I can feel his smug smile as he whispers in my ear.

  “Good thing I didn’t come up here just to claim you as my future wife.” He pulls back and hands me a card.

  “What the hell is this?” I snap.

  “Your uniform is unacceptable. Learn to do your tie, before you end up in detention...weekly.”

  He winks at me and walks away, this time taking the stairs. I look at the little card, it’s blue and has nothing written on it. I hold it up to Elsie and she shakes her head.

  “Didn’t you read the handbook?” She takes the look on my face as a no. “Blue slips are the worst – or the best – depending on how you look at it. You have detention with Mr Knox.” The hair on the back of my neck prickles. Knox, that’s my step-father's name. “The best part is he is fine as hell – even I think so, and I don’t like guys – but the worst part is he does early morning Saturday detention. You have to be at the back sports oval by 6 am.”

  I wonder if this guy is one of the famous step-brothers...this could be good. She can’t be referring to my step-father as ‘fine as hell’ surely?

  “Don’t get any ideas, all the popular girls have tried to tempt him, but he isn’t interested. If you want an easy lay, your best bet is to just go for Kalen.” I whip my head round to face her.

  “How many brothers are there?” I try not to sound too interested.

  “Sawyer is the eldest, he started teaching here last year. Then there’s the twins, Slate and Onyx, but they’re real assholes. Slate thinks he is better than everyone else and Onyx just looks like he wants to murder anyone who looks his way, and well, you met Kalen.”

  I nod. I thought these so-called step-brothers were supposed to be good boys. Somehow, I don’t think my mother knows her step-sons as well as she’s claiming. Why would they be at Knox otherwise? From what I’ve seen so far, they don’t scream ‘good boys’ to me.

  “Are there other schools around here?” I ask, thinking that maybe they just came here because it’s convenient.

  “Yes, a few. Though I have heard stories about the Knox boys and why they come here. You have to be invited here; you don’t get to apply. There is a board of old people who review each case. It’s all very hush hush, which is weird really. It’s a school for kids with a rap sheet. Rich or poor, money isn’t an issue here. Maybe the fourth years know more, but us first and second years only get second-hand gossip.”

  A bell chimes once, and most of the students instantly go quiet and take their seats...obviously a few first years don’t get the memo, or maybe they just don’t care, because they continue chatting regardless.

  My new step-daddy, aka Principal Knox, addresses the whole school. He goes over how important it is to re-read the student handbook and how, by now, everyone should be well acquainted with the rules. I guess school’s been in session for a couple of weeks already, but he obviously feels the need to reiterate the basics for someone’s benefit. Maybe all his little pupils here aren’t as reformed as my mother made out.

  Apparently, we are all adults here and will be treated as such, as long as we follow the rules. I tune out about halfway through his talk when a younger guy enters the room. He takes a seat near the other teachers, and I elbow Elsie and nod in his direction. “Who’s that?” I whisper. Even though I am fairly sure that he is one of my step-brothers. Call it a familial connection, or sisterly intuition or something.

  “That is Sawyer Knox...I told you he was hot.”

  I nod, my eyes not leaving my oldest step-brother. These guys are the key to being sent back home, I know they are. I just have to make sure I play my cards right.

  ***

  After we’re all dismissed, Elsie walks me to my first class of the day. A class called SELF with Ms Davis. Elsie explains it’s a class that deals with the struggles teens face today. It isn’t a long class, but it is a requirement. The whole school has the same class Friday and Monday mornings after Assembly, or whatev
er they call it over here.

  Elsie says she will find me for lunch to show me how the system here works, before turning to leave for her own class. I wave her off and quickly slip into the toilets, not caring if it makes me late.

  Someone enters the bathroom once my cubicle door is shut. I hear her talking for a moment, but when no one replies, I realise she is on the phone to someone. Odd, I thought phones were banned?

  “I’m meeting Sawyer at the wine bar in town tonight for dinner. He isn’t interested – yet – but I’m working on it. He finally agreed to a date, but I may have to seduce him into a relationship. His family has money and I’m sick of driving around in that beat-up old BMW…I need a man so I can quit this stupid job with these miserable children.”

  I choose that moment to flush and open the door. The poor girl only looks a few years older than I do. Her face goes red, and I smile coldly, washing my hands in the sink next to her. She politely smiles back. As I head for the door, I hear her start talking again.

  “My last class is at seven, I do cheer with the girls. Sawyer will meet me there at eight.”

  Well spank my ass and call me Charlie. She just gave me an idea for a birthday gift for myself. Operation 'seduce my step-brother', part one. I know I’m decent looking, not in a stuck-up kind of way, but I always seem to get attention from boys and men that is usually unwanted. Lucky for me, I have my fake ID that Smalls gave me last year. I do turn eighteen on Tuesday anyway, but God knows what the legal drinking age is over here. I would have checked, but after the court ruling I was whisked away and packed on a plane with no phone and no chance to say goodbye.

  Opening the door to my SELF class, I step inside and the door crashes shut with a loud bang behind me. I can add that to my mental notes: the doors don’t shut slowly or quietly here. How embarrassing – I’ve drawn the attention of the entire class. As if being new and late wasn’t bad enough, I have to make one hell of an entrance.

  “Take a seat. Being new is no excuse for tardiness.” I raise a brow and barely contain a smirk, does anyone say tardy anymore?

  “Hot damn my future wife is tardy, even the word sounds naughty,” Kalen says loud enough for everyone to hear and titter. “I can spank you later.” He winks at me this time.

  “Kalen, enough,” the teacher chastises.

  “Sorry, Mum, but she is your future daughter-in-law.” The class laughs loudly at this and the teacher shakes her head, looking like she’s struggling to hold back a smile. I stand frozen. Kalen’s mum is the teacher?

  I take a seat in the front row, the only row with any spare seats, and within five seconds Kalen drops down into the seat to the left of mine and throws an arm over my shoulder.

  “I will only tell you this once,” I whisper, hoping his mum doesn’t hear as she paces the room talking about bullying. “Touch me again without my express permission, and I will hurt you.” He laughs but makes no attempt to remove his arm.

  “Ugh, for fuck's sake, don’t touch me!” I snap, and push his arm off.

  “Miss Rossi, pack up your things and go to the principal's office.” The teacher’s glare is sharp enough to cut through glass.

  “You’re shitting me, right?” I cry throwing my hands in the air. I always was one for theatrics. I blame the Italian blood on my father’s side.

  “I assure you, I’m not ‘shitting you’,” she says, mocking my Australian accent, which infuriates me.

  She hands me a slip while I curse under my breath about how ridiculous this school is. I make a point of slamming the door extra hard on my way out. Susan directs me in her monotone voice through this maze of fucking hallways, straight to the office.

  I walk in and spot a very attractive dark-haired guy seated on one of the white plastic chairs that line the wall. I presume they’re for students waiting to see the principal. He watches me with dark, hooded eyes as I storm over to the administration desk and slam the slip down. The woman barely looks up from the computer screen.

  “Take a seat,” is all she says.

  Huffing in frustration, I turn and take a seat furthest from the boy who looks like an angel but reeks of sin. I surreptitiously study him from beneath my long lashes, and I decide that my initial assessment of him was right. I can almost see the sin pouring from his eyes, like tears of a fallen angel. The distance between us doesn’t stop him from staring, his eyes as black as I imagine his soul is.

  The door to the principal's office opens and a girl walks out wiping tears from her eyes. The mysterious boy chuckles.

  The principal – aka my almost step-father – Monty Knox glares at the boy before looking my way.

  “Amelie, in my office,” he says abruptly.

  I stand, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. The black-eyed boy watches me. I wink at him as I pass by. Monty ushers me into his office, pulling out a big leather chair for me to sit on, before he rounds his massive wooden desk and takes his seat. His silence gives me time to take in my surroundings while he briefly checks something on his computer. I have a habit of noticing all the possible exits in a room. One door, four windows, all of which look like they’re bolted shut. But I think the glass could easily be broken with a bookend from the massive bookcase that lines the entire back wall. Maybe. I’m pretty strong.

  “I wouldn’t suggest making friends with Baxter Branson, he isn’t the best company to keep.” That’s the opening gambit my step-daddy decides to go with? Telling me who to be ‘friends’ with? Like I’m going to listen. The dark angel outside just got a whole lot more appealing.

  “I don’t know, he seems like my kind of person.” I only say that since he made a point to start our interaction with a warning. Clearly, the incubator hasn't informed him of the company I kept back home. I sort of understand why she wanted out from her life in Australia – we didn’t live in the nicest of areas and life was tough – though I didn’t really learn this until I was older. When she first left, I couldn't understand why she didn't want me, why she couldn't have taken us with her. How fucked up is that, that she was abusive, but I still wanted her love and approval?

  I’ve come to terms with that now. Almost. The people I grew up around may not be law abiding citizens, but they care about me and would do anything for me.

  “I’m sure you’re aware this is a school for children who have taken a wrong turn in life...some of their crimes are worse than others. I suggest you be careful of the company you keep.” I raise a brow at him, wanting to throw out comments about their so-called clean slates, but I keep them to myself. “Now, I hear you made quite an entrance into your SELF class.”

  This I can’t keep quiet about.

  “Yes, your son doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself, and I made it clear that I would mess up his pretty face if he touched me again. Which he did, by the way. And I didn’t even punch him. But obviously your ex must favour him, because I got sent out for reacting and he didn’t, even though that’s clearly assault.”

  His brows pull together. I don’t think he knew that Kalen was also involved. “And your ex also took the piss out of my accent!” I tell him. His frown deepens, but he doesn’t pull me up on my bad language like I expected him to.

  “Kalen is a very friendly boy, but I assure you we do not tolerate that kind of behaviour here. I will follow up with him, but I have to punish you for your outburst. I run a tight ship here, and I will not make exceptions, even for my own sons and step-daughter.” He pauses, takes a deep breath and continues, “But in this instance...what if, when you come over for Sunday dinners, you pretend to actually want to be there, and give your mother a chance?”

  He slides a credit card across his desk and I look at it, then back at him. This must be some kind of unspoken bribe.

  I take a deep breath. How dare he try to manipulate me? “The fake smile I can do, but the 'giving her a chance part', I won’t promise.”

  “I can work with that. Send Baxter in on your way out.” He doesn’t say anything else, so I grab the c
ard and the four digit pin scrawled on the piece of paper with it, and leave. I’m not opposed to the money kind of bribes. Besides, you never know when it might come in handy.

  Walking out into the waiting area, I see Baxter is still slouched in the chair spinning an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “You have been summoned, oh dark and sinful one,” I tell him, bowing low and winking at him when I rise.

  That earns me a smirk that only a psychopath would give. I love it.

  Chapter Three

  The rest of the day is somewhat uneventful. I say somewhat, because classes run smoothly, but because I also lifted the phone from the teacher I’d met in the toilet when I found myself in her class in third period. My plan was to intercept her messages with Sawyer for tonight. It seems that Jess, or Miss Hart as I’m supposed to call her, was pushing to meet Sawyer at the trendier wine bar in the local village. He wanted to go to the pub but reluctantly agreed to her request. I rattle off a quick text to say I – that is Jess – will meet him at the pub after all, then delete the message. I even manage to put her phone back later in the day without getting caught. It’s child’s play to me.

  When lunchtime rolls around, it’s easy to find Kalen and his brothers. They sit in a group in the middle of the room, along with a few other students. I make sure to sit with my back to them, far away. I’m far more preoccupied with tonight's plan to worry about the other brothers. Kalen was an easy target, but I need more information on the twins. Tonight, I plan to see how close I can get to my biggest step-brother.

  “What do you know about the twins?” I ask Elsie.

  “Not much, they’re third-years. Onyx is scary as fuck. Slate is nice enough, if it benefits him. I wouldn’t say they are celibate, but I’ve never seen them with any girls here. There was rumoured to be one last year, but she left the school crying and hasn’t ever been back. That in itself is weird because no one ever leaves. Apparently, they like to share girls, but who knows, the whole family is very secretive. Kalen may give away the most, but don’t be fooled by his pretty face and smooth words; he can – and will – stab you in the back when it comes to his family. I wouldn’t even try to go there if I were you.”