Delinquent (Academy of Misfits Book 1)

by Bea Paige

  Placing my sketchpad and pencils onto the table, I open the pad up onto a clean page and begin to sketch. Like most times when I draw, I let my brain connect with my hand without too much thought as to what I’m about to draw. I kind of like it that way. On the streets back home that’s exactly what I’d do when out and about with my cans. I’d find the perfect wall and just start to paint. Eventually a mural would appear, then I’d slip off into the night leaving behind a piece of art just like Banksy, but without the notoriety or the cash.

  Letting my mind wander, I press the tip of the pencil onto the paper. Before long an image begins to appear. For a fraction of a second I pause, then start shading in the detail, not allowing myself to question why I’m drawing him of all people.

  An hour or so later I’ve finished. Resting my pencil on the table, I lean back and look at my work. It’s one of my better portraits, which is unnerving given the subject matter. In all honesty, I’m not sure what to make of it.

  “Well, well, if it ain’t our resident skank.”

  Monk.

  I react instantly snapping shut my sketchbook just before he gets to my table. He pulls out a chair and sits opposite me, flanked by two of his crew. The same two who grabbed me and held me back that day on the sports field.

  “What do you want?” I ask, sliding my sketchbook it into my rucksack. There’s no way I’m keeping that within reach of this dickhead. There’s too much personal stuff in there. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t just do graffiti art. The sketchpad is filled with images of Braydon, Tracy and Eastern. Of late it has a few new faces too, and it’s those drawings in particular that I don’t want him to see, specifically not the one I’ve just drawn. I’ll never live that one down.

  Monk watches me, his eyes narrowing as I zip up my bag. “I have a message for you,” he says, his gaze snapping to meet mine. This kid hates me. Like proper, I want to beat the crap out of her, kind of hate.

  “More shit about my mother, I take it. Or perhaps you want to reiterate what a slut I am. Or maybe, you want to finish what you started on the field?” I retort sarcastically. It’s risky giving him such mouth, but I can’t seem to help myself. It’s ingrained in me. Act first, think later. Typical Asia.

  “We can get to that if you want, but first the message,” he responds, sliding the phone across the desk and tapping the screen.

  I look down, my chest tightening as I see an image of Eastern.

  “Play it,” Monk snaps.

  Without hesitation, I press the play button, my throat constricting at the sight of my best friend. He looks exhausted, dark circles ring his eyes and his skin is pale. He has a black hoody pulled up over his head, but it doesn’t stop me from noticing the bruise blooming on his cheek. What the fuck has happened to him?

  “I’m safe, Alicia. Don’t call me, it’s too hot right now. I’ll contact you when I can. Just don’t piss him off…”

  The video stops abruptly. I’m pretty sure Eastern had more to say, but whoever was videoing him cut it short. Either that, or Monk has edited the video before letting me see it. What had Eastern meant, don’t piss him off? Don’t piss Monk off? He’s asking for a miracle right there.

  Monk snatches the phone up. “Better listen to lover boy, Alicia. Don’t piss me off.”

  “Where’s the rest of it?” I snap, ignoring his remark and the fact he’s called me Alicia. If I let on how much I hate it, he’ll only use it to wind me up.

  “That’s it.” He shrugs, giving me a look that tells me that most definitely is not all of it.

  “Liar!” I whisper-shout, trying not to get the attention of the librarian. She glances over at us both, her eyebrows pulled together in a frown. She knows as well as I do that Monk and his sidekicks aren’t here to study.

  “Okay, you got me. There is more, but you don’t get to see it… unless,” he says, lowering his voice and giving me a nasty grin.

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless you pay a visit to the Tower and join in on the festivities tonight.”

  “What festivities?” I ask. I know as little about what happens at the Tower as I did the first day I arrived here.

  “If you come as my date, you’ll find out.”

  “Date? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” I almost puke up a little in my mouth.

  “You want to see the rest of the video, that’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “Then you’ll never know what lover boy here had to say, and next time he sends a message it gets deleted.”

  “You’re such a prick,” I retort, not caring that I’m putting myself in a vulnerable position right now with three against one, not to mention lowering my chances of seeing the video at all.

  “And you’re a prick tease, just like your mother was.”

  I stand abruptly, my chair falling backwards, clattering on the floor behind me. The library is so quiet that the sound is deafening. Ms Mariner jumps. “Everything alright?” she asks, looking worriedly between us.

  “Everything’s fine, Miss,” Monk says, curling his lips upwards in what I think is supposed to be a smile, but comes off as something way more frightening. The guy can’t even smile without looking like he’s about to murder someone.

  “Asia?” she asks me, as unconvinced as I am by his half-arsed attempt at being non-threatening.

  “Yep, all good,” I bite out, picking up the chair and sitting back down on it.

  “Really?”

  I know that she knows I’m lying. I also know that whilst kind, she’s not the type of person to stick her neck out for someone who might be in danger. Self-preservation appears to win out over altruism. I smile brightly, and punch Monk lightly on the arm just like two friends might.

  “Monk and I are mates, isn’t that right?” I ask him, whilst a little bit of puke actually does fill my mouth.

  “Yes, Alicia and I are close,” he agrees. Then turns to me with a wicked glint in his eyes before sliding his snakelike tongue out over his thin lips. Yuck!

  “Well, that’s okay then. Just keep the noise down, please. This is a quiet space for studying,” she says, before turning back to her computer and turning a blind eye on what’s really going on. Shame, I was beginning to like Ms Mariner. But like most adults, she’d rather a quiet life than one complicated by delinquent kids like us.

  “What time do the festivities start?” I ask Monk.

  I can’t believe I’m actually entertaining his proposal, and if I hadn’t seen the video, I would’ve told him to shove the invite up his arse. But now that I’ve seen a glimpse, I really need to hear the rest of what Eastern has to say. Like me, Tracy hasn’t heard from him since that first day he messaged her. If I can give her any information to set her mind at ease then I’m willing to go to some party with Monk to do so.

  “10.30pm sharp. Entrance is via the third floor fire exit. It will remain unlocked for five minutes. Meet me there. You arrive late, you get shut out. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I repeat.

  Monk nods, standing. He motions for his sidekicks to give us some space, then leans over the desk, placing his palms flat against the surface. “Make sure you come dressed for the occasion. I like short skirts and tight little tops, understand?”

  “Perfectly,” I bite out, wanting nothing more than to slam his head against the table. Instead, I nod tightly and watch him leave wondering what the fuck I’ve got myself into now.

  17

  For the rest of the afternoon I avoid everyone. Pink and Kate knock on my door at about 8pm asking whether I want to go and watch a movie in the rec room before curfew, but I decline their offer. I need to get my head straight before my ‘date’ with Monk.

  Fuck.

  What was I thinking?

  Now it’s ten minutes to curfew and despite Monk’s request I am not dressed in something short and tight. He can go fuck himself. Instead I’m wearing my trusty pair of black denim jeans, Doc Martens and a black t-shirt
. I’m not feeling particularly colourful this evening. I just want to get this ‘date’ over and done with so I can see the rest of the video.

  Grabbing my phone, I dial Eastern again. It rings, then goes straight to voicemail. The dickhead is avoiding me. Why is he making it so difficult? I get that he’s on the run and he needs to keep his head down, but doesn’t he realise we’re worried about him? Doesn’t he understand that I’m worried about him? I really don’t need to get messages from him via Monk. He’s the last person in the world that I’d want to communicate through. I have a damn phone he can contact me on. Speaking of which, I stuff said phone back in its hiding place. Grabbing my rucksack, I pull out my sketchpad. I’m not willing to take it with me to the Tower, and I can’t risk someone finding it should anyone get any funny ideas and break into my room. So, I stuff it in a sealable plastic bag and shove it into the toilet cistern. Monk might think he has me fooled, but I know there’s more to this evening than a chance for me to see the rest of Eastern’s video message. I’d put money on him getting one of his crew to ransack my room just for the hell of it.

  Once I’m satisfied everything important to me is safely hidden, I head up to the third floor arriving exactly at 10.30pm just like Monk said. This will be the first and last time I obey any of his orders, that’s for damn sure. I try to push open the fire exit door, but it’s locked. I’m guessing with one minute to go I’m still too early. So, I lean against the door and wait, assuming Monk will be here any moment now.

  Then the lights go out.

  And the whole fucking floor is pitched into darkness.

  Intuition tells me this is not a random blackout, and my stomach bottoms out as my heart thumps so loudly I can barely hear myself think. This all for me. Fucking Monk and his gang of wolves.

  I don’t hesitate, I run blind towards the stairs at the other end of the corridor, my hands held out in front of me. Laughter echoes down the hall pulling me up sharp, and all I can think is where the fuck is everyone? It’s curfew, but there are no sounds coming from any of the rooms on this floor, or anywhere else for that matter. I find it hard to believe that everyone is tucked up in bed fast asleep and oblivious to the power cut.

  “Skank!” a voice whisper-shouts.

  “Where are youuuuuuuu…?” another voice singsongs creepily from the far end of the corridor I’m moving away from. Forcing myself to control my breathing, I try and work out if it’s just me and these two arseholes, or if there are more of them.

  “There’s nowhere to ruuuuuuunnnnn,” another voice calls, this time coming from in front of me. Motherfuckers have me surrounded. I feel blindly for the wall, then push my back against it the moment my hands find the smooth plaster. I ease myself along it, step by agonisingly slow step, trying not to breathe too heavily and give away my position. I figure these arseholes are just as blind as I am, unless they’ve managed to get hold of some infrared goggles that you see in the movies. If that’s the case, I may as well give up now.

  “Here, pussy, pussy,” another dickhead says, followed by a round of laughter. I’m not certain, but that’s at least four different people going by the voices. None of which are Monk.

  “Fuck, shit!” I hear someone shout, the sound of them stumbling to the floor reverberating down the hall.

  “Dickhead, give away our position, why don’t you?” another guy whispers.

  Another two more.

  I hear the scramble of feet and I’m assuming one of the bastards is helping the other guy stand up. They’re both very close by and I can only assume they’ve walked out of one of the bedrooms on this floor. Fucking perfect.

  “Monk is gonna beat your arse if you fuck this up,” the same arsehole hisses to the other.

  I hold in a nervous laugh. No infrared goggles then, good. At least that levels the playing field somewhat. Well, maybe not level it out, given there’s at least six boys on this corridor with me, but if I can’t see them, they can’t see me. It’s all I’ve got. I just need to get off this floor and down to my room without getting caught.

  No such fucking luck.

  “Come out, come out wherever you are…”

  My head whips around and I stiffen like a deer caught in headlights. A flashlight turns on at the far end of the corridor highlighting a face I’ve quickly come to despise.

  Monk.

  He’s standing by the door that leads to the staircase and escape with a flashlight pointing up under his chin. He looks fucking insane with his nasty grimace contorted into a scary mask because of the light and the shadows it casts across his face. It reminds me of some long forgotten scene in a horror movie. You know the ones? Where everyone dies. Now what am I going to do? If he points the light in my direction, I’m caught. My fingers curl into my palms… I’ll just have to fight. I can do that, even if it is now seven on one. What other choice do I have?

  Yet, he doesn’t lower the beam of light towards me. I’m still shrouded in darkness, but I think that’s the point. He wants me to know he’s there and that he has the power to light up the whole corridor at any given moment but is choosing not to. He has the power to end this, but instead he flicks off the switch and throws the corridor back into darkness just to make this whole fucking episode even more fucked-up.

  I hate to admit it, but I’m scared. One-on-one fist fights I can handle, maybe even seven-on-one but mind games like this? Not so much. For the second time I wonder where the fuck everyone else is.

  “Time to learn who’s the boss around here, skank,” Monk sneers and I swear he’s looking directly at me even though I can no longer see him, and he sure as fuck isn’t able to see me.

  Fuck.

  “This is going to be so much fun,” he continues with a sinister laugh. His bastard crew laugh with him. Thinking quickly, I sink to my hands and knees. They’ll expect me to be creeping along the wall, but they won’t expect me to slide along the floor, so that’s what I do. Pressing myself as low as humanly possible to the ground, I move as quickly and as quietly as I can. Then I almost have a heart attack when the body heat of one of Monk’s crew seeps into my skin because he’s standing so close to me. After a moment, the soft tread of his feet moves away.

  “This is stupid, just turn the torch on and grab her,” someone whines. I think it’s the guy who tripped a second ago, but I can’t be sure. That comment is followed quickly by a loud thud and a moan.

  “Shut the fuck up. This is my game, and this is how we’re going to play it,” Monk growls before switching the torch on again and lighting up his ugly-as-fuck face.

  “Come on, Asia, just give yourself up and let’s have that date,” he sneers, breaking into laughter that makes my skin crawl before flicking off the flashlight once more. I’m not afraid of the dark, never have been, but this is something altogether different…

  I’m being hunted.

  That’s what this feels like. But I’m no easy prey even though I am scared. Instead of letting my fear overwhelm me, I do what I always do, I use it to fuel my rage.

  Coaxing the storm within I let it get more violent. That violence drowns out the fear. It bubbles and boils inside my chest, giving me the strength to do what I must to survive, and whilst a large part of me wants to reveal my position so I can release the rage, I must be smart. Ford was right, rage isn’t enough. I’ll get my revenge on Monk, but not today. Today, I run.

  I keep moving, shimmying along the floor as quickly as possible, the sounds of my attempts to escape drowned out by the heavy footfall of Monk and his crew pounding up and down the corridor. After another minute of slowly shuffling along, I can feel a slight breeze and know that I can’t be far from the door leading into the stairwell. It’s always cooler in that part of the building.

  “She’s not fucking here, Monk,” an exasperated voice says. “Must’ve gone into one of the rooms.”

  “They’re all locked, I checked before,” he snaps back.

  “Look, man. The film finishes at eleven in the rec room, they’ll be
back soon,” another voice adds.

  “We’ve got time,” Monk retorts.

  “You think? Trying to get an extra hour out of Bobby was fucking hard enough. Took all my stash to get him to keep quiet about it. The fat bastard is a greedy cunt,” one of the guys says.

  So that’s where everyone is. In the rec room watching a fucking movie whilst these bastards play out a scene all of their own. Figures.

  “She’s here, the skank couldn’t have gone far. Though I have to admit, she’s pretty fucking good at hide and seek. Just as well since we enjoy the hunt, ain’t that right, boys?”

  Laughter and jeering erupts right before the corridor begins to echo with howling and barking.

  Jesus Christ. What the hell are they going to do to me? More to the point, why? I know I was a mouthy bitch to Camden at that party, but does that really warrant this kind of fucked up mind game? Maybe I underestimated him. Or perhaps Monk has gone lone wolf, and this is all on him.

  Either way, I need to get back to my room and fast.

  Listening intently, I figure I’ve only got one of Monk’s crew between me and the door to the staircase. I think the rest are behind me. Making a decision, I jump up to my feet and make a run for it.

  Worst. Decision. Ever.

  I slam headfirst into a hard chest and we both go down with a loud, bone-cracking thud. It takes me a second to realise that I’m not the one howling in pain.

  “BITCH!” the guy shouts, as I waste no time jumping to my feet and stomping on him for good measure. The air whips around us as he tries to make a grab for me. Whether it’s sheer good luck or plain old stupidity on his part, I manage to dodge him. By now the flashlight is switched back on. Monk and the rest of his gang can see me in full technicolour, or at least in black given I’m dressed head to toe in it.

  “Get her!” Monk shouts and I run for my fucking life.

  Slamming into the door, I leap into the stairwell, hitting the steps two at a time just as the lights flick back on, small mercies and all that. Funny how, when adrenaline takes over, fear evaporates. My thoughts are filled with one word and one word only.