Her Pacifier: Secrets From The Past

Chapter 51: Blood Foes

(For this chapter listen to "Way Down We Go" by KALEO & "Bad" by Bishop Briggs.)

Julian Hawk

In my favour, David Hawk is said to be landing within 30 minutes in England from a business trip in Canada, so says the dean.
Now! I'm not so sure if that's a favour or a sauntering nightmare that's ought to bury me alive but what I am most certain of is that my blood foe is on his way.

Lucifer is coming...

The fact that he has to skip a business trip for my rogue behaviour is the worst fact my subconscious has ever had to rule out.
He isn't letting opportunities down because his least favourite son will finally become the favourite son because he's winning a life achievement award. No. He's coming because...well...you know.

It's only 11:39 and my veins are popping out of my skull.

An average flight time from Canada to London is 7 hours and 39 minutes. So, if Henry, our silver headed principal, states that he called my dad at exactly 04:00 AM in Western European Time, then 39 minutes is how much time I've got left to gather myself back together again.

Rather, 38 minutes.

My palms are soaked with sweat. My trembling feet ceaselessly tap anything and everything around me. They tap the tiles, kick the chairs, kick the other students' desks, kick Drae's desk, kick the air.

Good Lord, I'm a nervous wreck today!

I need to think of something else to calm myself. I desperately need a distraction.

But it's hard to when a certain someone ratted you out. Why the fuck did the dean call my father anyway? I know it's his job to alert parents about their children's repulsive behaviour but c'mon! He could've called my aunt, Pia Cameroon, she's the best version of herself in the world to me. A blood relative who sincerely loves me for me.

Stupid dean with his stupid broken neck and limbs.

"Dude, stop fiddling," Désiré hisses, "it's hard for me to focus on this stupid Algebra test with you doing that."

"If you studied like I always tell you to, this test would've been a piece of cake," I dryly remind.

Drae stares at me, expressionlessly.

I continue, but with a grimace this time, "Your worry is x+x, my worry is the devil that's landing in 38 minutes, also known as... my father."

Drae glowered at me with a stoned expression. "I know what x+x is, dickhead."

I squinted my eyes at him with suspicion and vague accusation.

Was he fucking high in class during an Algebra test?

"Why'd you emphasize 'my father' like that?" He asked, "like he's some sort of... Monster."

"Because he is!" I exclaim.

The entire class shushes me.

Drae leans his head closer to me and murmurs, "My grandma is coming tomorrow and she's nothing close to the kind of grandma's you white's have. All sweet and humble with strawberry flavoured tarts."

I gasp.

He holds his hands out. "No offence, I'm not racist, but it's true. At my old age, I still get hit by her smelly shoe and hairy old cane. The old woman is frightening."