Hating Cain

by Anders Grey

Fear filled me. I didn’t want my teacher to know that I’d let another student read through what could possibly be confidential material.

  “Stop it,” I said. “I’ll get in trouble if you don’t give that back!”

  Lucas snorted. “Who cares, dude?”

  My fear was replaced by a quick flash of anger. Why did these guys think they were above common courtesy just because they were older than me? This was a private school that their parents paid a pretty penny for them to attend, and yet here they were, clogging up the halls and slacking off instead of learning. Guys like that pissed me off.

  “I care,” I said. “Shouldn't you all be in class, anyway?”

  Lucas sneered down his nose at me. “What are you, my mom? Mind your own fucking business.”

  The one holding the folder cackled and pointed at me. “He’s definitely small enough to be a girl, though.”

  My cheeks flushed from embarrassment and anger. If I thought I was fast enough, I could snatch the folder and run. But the older boys made me doubt myself. They locked on to my fear, shaking it in their teeth. I was too scared to run.

  No, there were too many of them, and trying anything would only agitate them more. Egg them on. It would activate their instinct to hunt me down and hurt me.

  My hands curled into fists at my sides. I had to control my temper and wait them out. The hall had gone eerily silent.

  “What, no reply?” Lucas asked. “You saying you really are a girl?”

  “No,” I said.

  Another chimed in with a chuckle. “I bet she is.”

  I pushed down the flicker of rage.

  Just wait it out. They can’t do this forever. They’ll get bored eventually.

  But that comment set them off, like sharks smelling blood in the water. The silence broke into teasing laughter. My face grew hot with shame. Part of me was tempted to forget the folder and just run back to the safety of my own classroom, but I knew they could easily chase me down.

  I was trapped.

  “Answer him!” Lucas barked at me.

  “No, I’m not a girl,” I said as firmly as possible. “I need that folder. Please.”

  The boy holding it smirked and held it up between two fingers, then, while making eye contact with me, began slowly tearing the edge of the paper.

  “Hey, stop!” I called.

  But as I took a step forward, he ripped it faster. I froze. By now a cold sweat had broken out on my skin. I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t. What other options did I have?

  The teacher will understand if it’s a little torn, I thought. Just grab it and run.

  My heart raced as I reached the edge of a decision. Doing something was better than doing nothing, wasn’t it?

  “Hey!” I called loudly, widening my eyes and pointing frantically behind them. “Teacher, over here! These guys are bullying me!”

  All of them sputtered and whirled around. In their moment of alarm, I grabbed the folder and bolted in the opposite direction. My heart hammered in my throat, but something like joy bubbled up in my throat and I laughed. I’d won. I’d beaten them. Me, just a skinny little sophomore, outwitting a pack of four burly–

  A frustrated snarl came from behind me right before a weight slammed into my back. I cried out as I fell hard, crushed beneath the person on top of me. I landed awkwardly on my hands and felt a sharp pain across my cheek. My arms were twisted behind my back.

  As the breath was squeezed from my lungs, I wheezed, “Get off!”

  But my voice came out in a mewl that sounded pathetic even to my own ears.

  “You think you’re smart?” Lucas muttered. “I don’t like it when people think they’re smarter than me.”

  My blood turned to ice. With Lucas’s weight bearing down on my back, I couldn’t breathe. I grunted and tried to push myself up, but with my arms pinned behind me it was impossible to do anything but writhe.

  The others surrounded me, and I knew I was fucked now. From the corner of my eye I saw the abandoned folder on the floor. Part of me wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was–all this effort and torment just for some stupid papers.

  Lucas yanked my hair back, making me grunt.

  “You think you’re smart?” he demanded. “Tell me.”

  I didn’t respond. Bile rose in my throat from the discomfort and pain and fear.

  “I said tell me!” he snarled.

  “No,” I said, shutting my eyes in shame.

  How was no one seeing this? Why didn’t anybody care? Was everyone so caught up with their own business that they couldn’t see this happening?

  I suddenly felt small. Insignificant. My stomach shrivelled up. Adrenaline made my heart beat faster, thicker, like my chest was full of tar.

  “Liar,” Lucas said.

  “What do you want from me?” I demanded, my voice hoarse.

  For a moment Lucas didn’t reply.

  “Why’d you get so flustered when we asked if you were a girl, huh?” His voice had taken a dark turn that made my skin feel cold. “Is it ‘cause you are? You like dudes?”

  My breath hitched. “No.”

  “I don’t like gays,” Lucas muttered. “And you know what? You look like one.”

  Fear made my voice crack. “What?”

  It wasn’t the first time someone had commented on my appearance like that, and it wouldn’t be the last. But in that moment, I’d never felt such soul-crushing dread.

  My arms had started to go numb, and I still couldn’t breathe properly. Whatever torment they had planned for me, there was no way to fight back. I was helpless.

  And no one was coming for me.

  A sudden thump was followed by a loud, startled cry. Lucas snapped his gaze up. Angry, masculine voices shouted all around me. With Lucas’s weight still pushing me down, I couldn’t see what was happening.

  “Get the hell off him!”

  Lucas grunted, and suddenly his weight was gone. I gasped for air and scrambled to my feet, throwing myself against the furthest lockers to get away from him.

  I saw the full scene. Two older boys I didn’t recognize were fighting Lucas and his cronies off. I shrank away from the chaos. Every instinct told me to bolt, but something glued me to the spot. I wanted to see the boys who saved me.

  They were older, probably seniors. One had dirty blond hair and big muscles. The other–

  My heart fluttered in my chest. The one fighting off the gang had messy black hair and dark eyes that blazed with fury. His mouth was curled into an angry snarl as he shouted and kicked off the boys who stood by and enjoyed Lucas’s torment. There was something about the raw emotion coming off him that drew me in, like a storm cloud churning with thunder and lightning, right about to break.

  When the others had run off with their tails between their legs, only Lucas was left against my two saviors.

  The blond one stormed up to him, getting in his face with a lack of respect for personal space that indicated either conflict or familiarity. In this case, I got the feeling it was both.

  “Lucas, what the hell is your problem?” the blond demanded. “Your dad’s gonna be pissed if he hears you’ve been picking on kids, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Then he doesn’t need to know, Nash. If you were a good stepbrother, then you wouldn’t rat me out,” Lucas spat back. “And besides, he wouldn’t care if he knew the kid was a f–”

  “Don’t say it,” the dark-haired one said in a knife-sharp tone.

  Lucas shut his mouth, glaring at him.

  But Lucas’s half-comment made Nash–the blond one–turn towards me with a hesitant raise of his brow. My stomach sank. Did he regret saving me now?

  The dark-haired boy walked over. I had to crane my neck back to meet his eyes, which softened slightly as he looked down at me.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I nodded, unable to find my voice.

  “Hurt at all?”

  “No,” I managed to say, though it was partially a lie. My body was sore
and I was still catching my breath, but I wasn’t bleeding or anything.

  He nodded and stretched his hand out for me to shake. “Johnny.”

  I blinked and took it. His palm was warm, and not as rough as I expected for some reason. “Cain.”

  The corner of his lip twitched. “Cool name.”

  My name had always embarrassed me, but his praise made my chest feel warm. “Thanks.”

  Johnny turned back to glare daggers at Lucas. “Don’t let us catch you fucking with this kid again. Come on, Nash.”

  “See you at home, if you don’t get into more trouble,” Nash muttered to Lucas before loping back to Johnny’s side.

  I expected the two of them to disappear around the corner, but to my surprise Johnny waited, watching for Lucas to leave without causing another scene. With Johnny’s eyes boring into the back of his head, Lucas slunk off without another word.

  As the adrenaline faded from my system, I remembered the folder lying abandoned on the floor. I picked it up and headed towards the office.

  “Wait,” Johnny said as I passed him.

  I noticed Nash was frowning as he went ahead. His gaze flickered between Johnny and I, like he was wondering why Johnny was still bothering with me.

  But Johnny reached out to touch my face. I stood dead still. He wiped his thumb across my cheek. It stung a little, but it was overshadowed by the warmth of his hand.

  Johnny’s dark eyes were soft with concern. “You got some blood here.”

  “Oh. Must’ve been when I fell.”

  “When Lucas pushed you, you mean.” He smirked, then glanced at the folder. “The office is right over there. You want me to deliver that for you so they don’t ask about the blood?”

  “Um. Sure.”

  I handed it to him. Like Nash, I was wondering why Johnny was still bothering to help me, too. Meanwhile, Nash watched Johnny with narrowed eyes. I felt a little guilty—Johnny’s friend probably hadn’t meant for this to take so long. I was wasting their time.

  Johnny was in and out of the office in a minute, during which time it didn’t occur to me to head back to my own class. I was too dazed. All I did was stand there stupidly and dab at the cut on my face until no more blood came out.

  “I’ll walk you back,” Johnny said when he returned. “Don’t want you to get jumped again.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. Maybe I should’ve said you don’t have to or something, but for some reason, I felt special. All I said was, “Thanks.”

  Some bizarre, dumbass part of my mind thought that Johnny might hold my hand like I was a little kid, but obviously he didn’t. He walked on and I followed him. Maybe I should have felt embarrassed by being escorted by an older student like a baby who needed protection, but I didn’t care. I felt safe with Johnny, like nothing could touch me.

  Nash hadn’t joined us. I didn’t know when he left, but Johnny didn’t seem to mind his absence.

  “It’s here,” I said when we reached my classroom. Rowdy voices still came from behind the door, so I hoped the teacher was busy dealing with unruly students and wouldn’t notice how long my excursion took. “Um. Thanks. For all that stuff.”

  His lip quirked again in a way that made my chest feel funny. “No worries. And hey, don’t worry about that shit Lucas said, okay?”

  I was about to ask until I remembered the slur he’d only begun to speak before Johnny cut him off. I nodded.

  “I won’t,” I said, then quickly added, “I’m not… that.”

  Johnny’s expression was unreadable. He shrugged. “Anyway, see you around, Cain.”

  He ruffled my hair, and then he was gone.

  I slowly opened my eyes as I dragged myself out of the memory. The room was dark now, illuminated only by the pale, harsh light of the television screen. I pulled my knees closer to my chest and frowned.

  Indulging in the past hadn’t made me feel any better. If anything, I felt worse.

  Where had that Johnny gone? The one who saved me? The one who protected me and made me feel safe?

  He never existed, Cain, I told myself. That was a fantasy you made up in your head. You’re good at that, remember?

  I snorted. In my childish mindset, I’d taken Johnny’s kindness to mean something more than it truly was. Of course it hadn’t meant anything special. He did something decent to help a bullied kid. That was all.

  But then why hadn’t these feelings gone away, even after ten years?

  And why did it hurt so badly when he said he hated me?

  9

  Johnny

  The next morning, I woke with a clear head and a positive attitude. Mat’s suggestion had sunk in deeper after sleeping on it, and I found myself unable to think of anything else. The idea almost made me laugh. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? Selling this ridiculous mansion for the good chunk of money it was worth and getting rid of every bad memory attached to it would solve all my problems in one convenient swoop.

  With a spring in my step, I headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The fact that Cain had been the one to purchase all the groceries for me only made me pause for a moment before I remembered I’d be getting away from Cain once and for all soon enough. I decided that I would pay Cain back with the fat check I got for the house because I didn’t want to feel guilty about receiving his help any longer.

  Grabbing a butter knife from the kitchen drawer jogged my memory. With a frown, I remembered the locked office door upstairs. I started casually rummaging through the kitchen drawers. Unfortunately, with the size of the kitchen, there were a lot of them and none contained anything important.

  “Where would someone hide a key?” I mumbled to myself. “And why?”

  Disappointed but still energized, I toured the rest of the house, going through every drawer and closet. But my excitement had faded an hour later when I hadn’t found a key anywhere on the lower floor.

  My joyful mood had disappeared by the time I crawled to the upper floor, replaced by a grim determination. In my irritation I tried the locked door again and grew frustrated when I got the same result.

  Why the hell was the office locked? My mom had only ever locked it from the inside when she didn’t want to be bothered, and–

  My thoughts cut off as a somber cloud descended upon me. She obviously wasn’t inside. She was gone and buried. So there was no reason for her office to be locked.

  My brief flash of grief was gone, replaced by anger. Whoever had come to clean the house must have done this. Or maybe it was the movers.

  I scowled and snatched my phone from my pocket, dialing the only person I could think of who would know the answer.

  A neutral, feminine voice spoke. “Hello? Johnathan?”

  “Ms. Walker,” I said. “Sorry to bug you, but do you know where the key is?”

  “The key?”

  “There’s an office upstairs in my parents’ house,” I said, then winced at my choice of words. It wasn’t their house anymore. It was mine. But I didn’t think I could ever shake the association, no matter how much time had passed. “Anyway, the door’s locked and I can’t find the key for it anywhere.”

  “Ah, yes, I believe I do have it,” Ms. Walker said. “I can swing by on my lunch.”

  “Erm, not to be rude or anything, but why didn’t you give it to me when I accepted the house?”

  There was slight hesitation in her reply. “Your parents wanted to make sure you were comfortably moved in and settled before I gave you access to that room.”

  Of course my parents had some stupid condition controlling my life. Why wouldn’t they? They’d tried to control me while they were still alive, and now it was impossible to refuse anything they wanted for me.

  “That’s fine,” I said stiffly. “I’ll be here.”

  “Great. See you, Johnathan.”

  After hanging up, I glared at the locked door. Had my parents locked it as some final act of superiority? Why leave me the entire mansion and have just one room to be inaccessible to me w
ithout the help of a third party?

  My parents were hiding something.

  A couple hours later, Ms. Walker pulled up the driveway. We exchanged polite greetings, but I didn’t miss the side-eye she gave my outfit–a casual paint-stained shirt and a pair of old sweats.

  Are my clothes really that bad? I thought, then defensively remembered I didn’t have enough money to afford better ones. But all that would change once I got rid of this house. I just had to solve the locked-door mystery first.

  As I led Ms. Walker up the stairs towards the office, she said, “Not a lot of personal touches, are there?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Your own things.” She smiled thinly. “I don’t see a lot of Johnathan here.”

  I grunted in acknowledgment, trying not to bristle at her comments. “I mean, it hasn’t been that long. And it’s not like there isn’t already furniture and stuff here.”

  She gave a small shrug. “I suppose.”

  I walked a little faster towards the office and gestured to it. “Here.” I jiggled the handle again, half-wondering if it would magically open while Ms. Walker was present, but it didn’t. “See? This is the door.”

  “Yes.” Ms. Walker nodded, not attempting the handle. She kept her hands folded behind her back and made no move to reach into the pocket of her blazer.

  I blinked at her. “You said you have the key, right?”

  Her polite smile grew even thinner. “I do.”

  “Then can I have it?”

  I didn’t like the petulant tone in my own voice, but more than that, I didn’t like the fact that the lawyer was keeping secrets from me–especially when she had promised me the key to a room in my own damn house.

  “Johnathan,” she began, clasping her hands together in front of her in a gesture I found strangely irritating. “Mr. and Mrs. Hunter left me a few instructions in the full will. This will was created years ago, in case anything ever happened to them.”

  “The full will? What?”

  “The one you signed was unconditional. Meaning, they left you the estate no matter what.”

  Ice settled in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t like the hidden meaning behind her words–a mirror to all the secrets my parents had apparently kept from me.