Bad Blood

Chapter 14 - Yeah I'm probably a cat - napper

The next day wasn't any different. Well provided that you skipped the part when someone tried to kill me, and my half not brother spinning a poorly thought out web of lies, then yeah it was practically the same. The only difference was that I kept my knife hidden somewhere in my clothes that I wore. I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. 

Jack hadn't seen the gun. I'd hidden it's remains and the things I found in the mans pockets in a small hole I crafted in my new mattress. I hadn't found much, just a credit card, pocket knife, empty notebook and a keyring with no keys on it. Junk that I didn't need. 

The trek to school seemed longer this morning, but considering that I dragged my feet most of the way, I think it was one of those mind over matter things. I really didn't want to attend, not when all I really wanted to do was work out what Jack was lying about. What did he even have to lie about anyway? It's not like I'd be surprised, with all that I'd experienced in my short 15 years on earth.

I walk through the school's front gates, making considerable effort to keep my eye trained on the ground. I really just want to make it to my locker without having to talk to anyone, especially my new buddy, Brook. That girl is definitely scary. She means what she says, so yesterday when she told me to stay the hell away from her, I think I should probably take her advice. She's a poised viper ready to strike at anytime, but as I watch her walk to her locker this morning, I can't but help feel sorry for her. 

My locker is located at the bottom of the science block, in a tiny little corner that curves off behind the stairs. It's in the precise location where no one can see me at my locker when my door is open, but I can see everyone if I tilt my head up further enough. So I don't mean to look at Brook as she walks down the stairs to her locker on the other side of the hallway. All the girls walking the opposite way stop and slide apart as soon as they see Brook. 

Her eyes are trained on the tiny blue screen of her phone, but the heftiness of her walk suggests that she knows exactly what's happening in front of her. The sea of students part like a squabble of geese, keeping their eyes trained on the ground to avoid eye contact at all costs. I've seen this happen before, because at every middle or high school in the States has a popular group that part the halls like Moses parting the red Sea.

 But this is different. Eye's don't follow her in awe and wonder but in fear and panic. Her school uniform looks old, the hem all frayed and worn, and her jumper is starting to lose it's colour. Her hair is the same as it was yesterday, three braids on the left, and the rest of her curly chocolate brown hair flipped over on the right side. 

Suddenly she stops in the middle of the hall, and girls scurry away, afraid that they're the cause of her abrupt additional shift, but her head swivels around towards the direct direction of my locker. She is just the right height that when I close my locker door  her eyes lock onto mine, and in that split second, I understand. The tiny hint of Southern American clip in her accent. Her addiction to breaking the rules. The reason all these stuffy rich white kids stay out of her way, not just because she'd different, but because she's someone who they don't know how to act around. Why I've been the same until now. I'm infamous for not trusting anyone, but with one look I know that I can trust this girl. Even if she hates me the ends of the earth. 

I get it  I try to say with my eyes. I think I know now. I'm sorry I didn't realise before. 

Her auburn eye flicker, and I swear she looks sad before her gaze hardens and she gives me a deep half heartened scowl and turns away. Great. She still hates me, but a tiny flutter tells me that I shouldn't give up on her just yet. 

So I heft out my books and grab the electives form from my locker, shutting and locking the door behind me. Even with the events of last night, I still managed to get Jack to sign off my electives to hand in at the office this morning. Well he saw it first, and signed it for me. I've learned he's responsible in a way like his mom and I could never be.

I hand in my slip to old Ms Bern who doesn't even acknowledge me as I walk in, and get permission to head off to my first elective, criminal study. I remember having such a hard time trying to figure out what to chose, and that was quite a surprise because usually I can make the best split second decisions. At Blackburn College for Young Ladies (I've since learnt that it's abbreviation, BCYL is the cooler way to say it, and also way easier) students in year 9 get to choose 2 electives; music, art, textiles, food tech, criminal study or business entrepreneurship plus a language. And I thought I had privileges in the States.  So I choose criminal study, latin and art because I have no idea what I should do. At least my first choice will be interesting, considering my not parents and I used to be them.