Playing Criminal

35- Feel the Burn

Well, it turned out that Brighton didn’t have much to say at all.

Our little chat consisted of him telling me to disregard what my parents had said and that I should be proud of all the progress I’d made at Black Mountain thus far.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

It seemed as if he’d completely bought the lie Mr. Berkeley fed him; he seemed to truly believe that I was a victim of student bullying.

I wasn’t complaining though. I didn’t have any sort of cover story I could give him, and knew he’d never believe truth surrounding my escape. 

So days went on, everything returning to a level of normalcy.

Despite seeing him in “class” everyday, Mr. Berkeley hardly spoke a word to me.

And though his silence was disconcerting, I tried to ignore the warning signals going off in my head.

I mean, at least he wasn’t kidnapping me and drugging me again, right?

However, each time I snuck a peak over the top of one of my textbooks, I’d catch Mr. Berkeley’s cool gaze. Even though he wasn’t speaking, he was watching which made me wonder what he was waiting for. What kind of sick, twisted schemes were being hatched in his deranged mind?

But luckily, I had plenty of distractions too.

Jack, Kate and all their friends kept me busy socializing (a.k.a. campaigning) and any extra time I had was spent catching up on all the leftover schoolwork I’d missed during my absence.

In fact, I came to the point of where after class I ditched Kate and the rest during dinner to hit the gym. I just needed some alone time, time to think about all that had happened, time to make sense of my life, of what was going to happen to me, to Jack, to Caden, to the rest of the gang.

I walked down the commonly-bleak, uncommonly-empty hallways with a smile on my face. It felt like I could breathe for the first time, like I’d been so overcrowded with people these past weeks, that there hadn’t been enough oxygen to share.

I’d been constantly surrounded by a group of people that were vapid, crude, and extremely suspicious of me. Or at least that’s how I saw it. Though the lunch table Jack and Kate introduced to me had warmed up considerably, I was clearly an outsider. Any acceptance I gained through Jack’s constant praise and flirting was given grudgingly.

I was just on a different plane of existence from the group. Yes, I’d been in a gang, but that didn’t mean that I acted like the typical delinquent. I was a nerd. I wasn’t promiscuous or sexy like most of the other girls. I wasn’t super outgoing; I didn’t have the natural easy, slimy charisma all the guys shared. I wasn’t a fan of stealing or most other types of crime.

I was just…different.

Sure, I liked weed, alcohol, and adrenaline rushes as much of any of them, but to them, it seemed like those similarities weren’t enough.

And so leaving them behind, I felt like I could take my delinquent mask off again and play at being me again. I could admit to myself that I wasn’t just a delinquent; that I liked Calculus and reading novels – things I could never admit in front of Jack’s friends.

In the locker room as I changed into workout clothes, I pulled my arms back, loving the feeling of my increased blood flow to the area.

Since I’d gotten here, I’d lost more muscle mass than I’d care to admit. I was never an athlete at school or anything (and I hated P.E.), but I always used to go to the gym with Caden and the other guys. I felt more secure knowing that if anything happened I could run away, or stick up for myself in a fight.