affluenza (1.) | ✔️

Prologue // Sebastian Grey

"ARE YOU NERVOUS, Bray-bear?"  Aunt Amanda asked as she handed me my new green backpack from the front seat. I grabbed it and fought back a huge smile. Empty folders and clean notebooks lay inside the bag, and I was practically itching to begin writing.

I shrugged softly in response to her question and scrunched my nose. "When can Mommy come home?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "The doctors said soon, right?"

Aunt Amanda sighed. "Hopefully before your birthday, but I don't know. But it'll be okay, yeah? You've got me and your cousins and—"

"Can I just go in now?" I asked as I looked down at my shiny new shoes. "I don't want to be late. Fourth grade is important."

"Yeah," she mumbled, touching my back. "Do you want me to walk you inside?"

I shook my head. "I'm nine now, Aunt Amanda. I can go in by myself."

"Right, I know, I just..."

"Bye," I said, stepping out of the car.

The warm air of Malibu caused my hair to stick to my neck, but I didn't mind. This school was supposed to be super rich and they'd probably have air conditioners. Auntie had an air conditioner too. I liked living there more than at the apartment with Mommy in Maine, but I still missed her. She'd been gone all summer.

The words I heard Auntie whispering on the phone all the time appeared in my head. Rehab. Sickness. Addiction.

I shook them off and opened the door to the school. "Braylen Adams?" a chubby lady asked and she smiled. I smiled too but only because she had lipstick on her tooth. "You're a little late, but I wouldn't worry—it's your first day!"

She ruffled my hair and I grimaced, backing away from her. "What room am I in?"

"Assertive little one, aren't you?" she asked, laughing at her own joke. "37. Mr. Salvatore."

I nod. "Got it. Thanks."

"I could show you the way if you need me to," the woman offered. "I'm Mrs. Nicole."

"Thanks, Mrs. Nicole. But I know how to read," I say. With a wave I walked out of the glass door on the other side, adjusting my backpack. I looked at the numbers on the doors as I walked, drumming my fingers against my jean-clad thigh. "33, 35...37. Here goes nothing."

I pushed the door open and the kids all immediately turned to me. I blushed and shuffled to the first empty seat I found next to a girl with fiery red hair. "Mr. Adams, yes?" Mr. Salvatore asked, turning back to his chalkboard. "Time management is a virtue, young man. Learn it." I frowned. He was a surly old man with more wrinkles than my grandpa. And that was saying a lot.

The girl looks over at me and grins. "I'm Robyn. You're Japanese, aren't you?"

I blushed again. "Only on my dad's side. What gave it away?"

She smiled and pointed to my Yakult that was sitting on the side of my backpack. "My parents get me those, too. My little cousin AJ is too young to drink them, though. I was there when he was born. My auntie said he was ten pounds, can you believe it? Ten pounds!" Robyn's voice fluctuated as she spoke and I smiled. "Do you wanna sit with me at recess? Or we could play tetherball if you'd like?"

I grinned for real this time. "I'd like that."

¥

"Where'd you move from?" Robyn asked as she sipped my Yakult. I'd given it to her in exchange for her fruit roll-up. We were going to trade lunches today, too. She had ham and cheese and I had bologna.

"Maine," I said, sucking my fingers as I finished the snack. "It's really cold up there."

She grinned. "Have you ever seen snow before? I love the snow. I've only ever seen it in movies, though. It gets cold here but never that cold."

"Yeah. One winter my mom and I made snowballs all day. I was freezing," I said, laughing.

Robyn smiled again. "That sounds fun."

A baseball shot over at us and Robyn squealed, ducking quickly as it lands in a bush behind us. I look at its owner, a tanned boy with blue eyes and freckles. He was wearing an old tattered down Angels cap, the red faded into a brown.

"Get that, will you, punk?" the boy said and the other boys next to him laughed.

I scowled. "No. My name is Braylen. What's yours? 'Douchebag?'"

Douchebag's friends gasped. They'd never heard anyone stick up to him. Douchebag fumed; he didn't want to be shown up by the new kid. "That's it!" he screamed and ran and tackled me off the bench I'd been sitting on. Robyn jumped up as we wrestled on the ground, slapping and punching and screeching.

"Get off of me," I yelled as I pinched his back. He landed a solid punch at my jaw and I quickly realized I wouldn't win this fight. So, with the last ounce of pride I had, I reached forward and threw his hat over the gate and into the street.

The boy stopped fighting instantly, crawling off of me and paling. "That was my cap! Go and get it, loser!"

I opened my mouth to make a smart remark when a motorcycle revved by. His hat didn't stand a chance as the two wheels pummeled it. The remaining shards floated away in the wind. I would've laughed at the irony if he didn't look so upset.

"My hat!" the boy shouted. He gripped my shirt, ready to fight me again when Mrs. Nicole showed up.

"Boys, boys!" she sang, eyes wide. "Principal's office, both of you!"

We both grabbed our stuff and walked silently, but I felt the boy's eyes ripping me apart.

Two things happened that day.

Number one, we were both suspended from the first week of school. Auntie grounded me for months and I got a black eye from that kid's fist.

Number two. That kid was Sebastian Grey. And that day marked the beginning of an eight-year-long war.