The Rules of Survival (Mercer #1)

RoS Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

If Diego and Rafe didn't kill me, English definitely would.

Considering the TLF had retreated over the last week to a distance that wouldn't get them done in for harassment, I was putting my money on a subject that was the bane of my existence. It didn't help that every time I stepped foot in his classroom Mr. Jacobs singled me out and tried to hold me back after class.

Apparently I was the good deed he was determined to see through, because the man would just not leave me alone. Between his constant nagging, growing eyes in the back of my head to evade any TLF contact, and hovering over Mycha to the point he wanted to rip his hair out, school was becoming the last place on earth I wanted to be.

Not that home was any better. Teresa divided her precious few hours of sobriety a day between trying to mother the kids and drive me out of the house permanently. Any time my name was called Teresa swooped in like a deranged eagle, getting in my way and endeavoring to embrace this foreign concept called parenting. So far she'd been unsuccessful; the kids were startled by her sudden enthusiasm, and had grown extremely skittish thanks to seeing her bitch slap me.

Every night without fail Teresa would remind me of the alcohol and cigarettes I still hadn't replaced. From the goodness of her heart she'd given me a two week deadline to cough up the goods, or I could find somewhere else to live. One week down, one to go.

If all of that wasn't enough, I was also suffering from nightmares; my dreams were plagued by images of Kalen. In every last one he was already dead and appeared as a gory, bloody apparition, or I was conjuring the scene of his shooting. When that happened, no amount of screaming or attempting to get him out of harm's way stopped him from being shot in the back by a faceless man.

I wasn't the only one struggling, either. Tanner had nightmares of her own, Lucky was constantly asking when Kalen was coming home and had taken to searching the house for him, and Mycha flunked a test for the first time in his life. Something would have to give soon, or I was liable to kill Teresa and bury her out back before I imploded from the pressure constantly building in my chest.

"Ioney," Mr. Jacobs barked, and I blinked rapidly, having momentarily forgotten where I was.

"Huh?" I rubbed at gritty eyes.

He was standing over my desk with his arms crossed over a black button down, blue eyes bleeding exasperation. A shock of blonde hair curled at the nape of his neck and a day's worth of stubble dusted his angular jaw.

"I asked you what themes you found interesting in the book we're currently studying."

I frowned, trying to follow what he was saying. I was so tired my mind was wandering with little to no provocation. "What book?"

Snickers erupted all around me, and I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the juvenile behavior. Mr. Jacobs leaned down so we were eye level, clearly trying to assess whether or not I was joking.

"In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez."

And the light bulb came on.

The book had been handed out a few weeks ago. I'd read it the first night just to get it out of the way and Kalen had mocked my studiousness, but I knew he was secretly proud of me for keeping my grades up despite my lack of interest in school.

Thinking about Kalen in past tense when he'd been discussing this stupid book with me three short weeks ago caused a sharp pain to invade my chest. Resisting the urge to reach up and soothe it, I killed the hopeful look on Mr. Jacobs's face by saying, "Never read it."

"See me after class," he said, disappointment oozing off him, and returned to the front of the room. "Anyone else come across any themes in the book?"

Hands shot in the air, and Sally Price who was sitting behind me kicked my chair in her eagerness to answer the question.

Annoyed that for some reason I wanted to burst into tears and sob like a maniac, I dropped my chin on my forearms and gazed at the whiteboard, not seeing a thing. The bell ringing jostled me awake twenty minutes later and I tried to slip out of the room unnoticed.

Anticipating the move, Mr. Jacobs stepped in my path.

"A word, remember?" He gestured for me to take a seat at his desk.

I shifted impatiently from foot to foot. "Can it wait? I kind of have somewhere to be."

Like anywhere but here.

"I'll write you a late pass for next period." He sat behind his desk, linking his fingers together in front of him. "Sit."

Rebellious by nature, I refused to obey, standing beside the proffered chair with my feet planted and my arms folded across my chest. Shaking his head at my defiance, he leaned back in his seat to regard me curiously.

"You don't want to be here." A statement, not a question.

We both knew he wasn't talking about here in his classroom, but here at school in general. I wasn't interested in small talk. The faster we had this conversation, the faster I could get the hell out of here. I had far better things to do, like step up my search for a steady income; the money I'd acquired from Justice would only get us so far, and Teresa had no plans of going back to work.

"Is there a specific reason you wanted to see me after class? Because if it was just to state the obvious you're wasting my time as well as your own."

He raised an eyebrow at my audacity, but I got the feeling it amused him. "Why didn't you read the book?"

Oh, for the love of God. This was why honesty was encouraged. One little lie always came back to bite you in the ass.

"I did read it."

"You told me you didn't."

"I lied."

"Why?"

I ground my teeth in impatience. "I'm not big on class discussions."

"How do I know you're not lying now to get out of me lecturing you about completing tasks on time?"

I flicked my glance to the board behind him and scanned over the themes people had volunteered.

"Because your little angels that pay attention in class and like the sound of your voice forgot to mention authoritarianism – yes, I even know what that means," I added at his skeptical look.

"In the book there are instances where the authoritarian state influences life for the sisters and the other characters. They have to watch what they say because of spies hiding outside their house. The other people, whether involved or not are too scared to speak openly; they can't trust their own neighbors. I could go on about that and the other major theme they missed: entrapment."

Mr. Jacobs looked like a kid at Christmas who'd just discovered he'd gotten everything on his wish list and then some. "So you did read the book!" he exclaimed, clambering to his feet.

"I told you I did," I muttered, glancing at the door. "Can I go now?"

Rounding his desk, he clapped me on the shoulder, causing me to stagger at the unexpected contact.

"You know, Ioney, you have a lot of potential, and if you just applied yourself more – like you did right now – you'd be surprised at the results you could achieve. It would be a much more productive way of spending your time rather than hanging out with gang members and getting into all kinds of trouble."

I bristled at the assumption and turned my head to glare at him. "I'm not a gang member, and I don't hang out with gang members."

Mr. Jacobs made a noise of disagreement, but wisely let it go. He retrieved a yellow slip and scribbled on it before passing it to me.

"Just think about what I said." He opened the door, dismissing me.

"Uh-huh."

Idiot had no idea what he was yammering on about. And he should be thankful that in his eyes, things were so simple.