VegasPete : The rival Venice

4 - Little chat

Venice's POV

The signal rings for the second time. The classroom door will be closed.

Students are sitting at their desks. There is no assigned seat. Vegas and his group sit towards the back of the classroom. He points me to the last desk by the window. He sits in the next row, in the center. His friends around him.

Where is my Dad...?! I move to get up to look for him, when the skinny boy enters the room. My eyes automatically follow him. There's an empty desk next to me. I hope he sits there.

My Dad Pete was neither tall nor short, but his slender body in that disheveled uniform made him look small. His messy, bowl-shaped hair gave an air of sloppiness to that figure that didn't seem to fit among wealthy colleagues wearing impeccable uniforms and designer props.

Before he could get to the empty desk, the guy my dad threw to the floor made him drop his stuff on the floor.

As he bent down to pick it up, another guy kicked his book under the desk.

I clenched my fists ready to get up and punch them, but before I could move, Vegas spoke up.

"Hey, hey, just leave him alone."

My father Vegas got up and took the book from under the desk and handed it to my dad Pete.

I rooted for him inside of me. Well done, Father! Defend your wife!Yeah!

"..." My dad bowed to him.

Then my father turned to his friends.

"The boy was just doing his job...taking care of his master...like every loyal dog." He smirked.

The whole classroom laughed.

My dad didn't answer back. He just took the book and sat quietly at the desk.

Fuck, Father! How disappointed I feel. How could you say that to daddy in front of everyone?!

I felt my blood boil. I definitely prefer the little devil over this Vegas one.

The math teacher demanded silence and began the class.

Vegas friends spent class hurling things at my dad, who ignored them as if nothing bothered him.

I wanted to beat myself up for doing nothing, but it was not the right time yet. But when it is, these guys will regret ever being born.

The signal rings. It's the end of the morning class.

"Hey, Venice. Hurry up! We're going to the cafeteria." Vegas says to me in a tone between cordial and mandatory, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I'm good. I still need to finish my notes. I will soon."

He looked at me as if I shouldn't disobey some order, but he didn't say anything. Just gave me a fake smile. "Okay, then. See ya."

"See ya" I can fake smiles too.

My dad is still in the classroom trying to write down the whiteboard notes in the paper. The bandaged hand makes it difficult for him. Most other students use a tablet or laptop. I found a small laptop in my backpack.

"Hey..." I try to call him. "I can send you my notes. Do you have an e-mail?"

"..."

He seems not to hear me. I insist.

"Then I can print it for you."

"..."

No reply.

I sigh and get up, heading towards him.