Royal Havoc

24. Newbies

twenty-four

Newbies

Onyx: 2024

D o two demented minds make a right?

I’ll give him the props he’s due. I mean, after the anxiety wore off, I realized I appreciate an out-of-the-box thinker. So I figured, why not join in on the fun?

Have I gotten tons of sideways looks? Of course. Does everyone seem to know who the new girl is… now? It’s like I’m a walking fucking billboard. Is everyone keeping their distance? Like I’m a virus defiling their precious clean air.

I join the line behind the other ducklings, strolling into fourth-period English with my head held high, reminiscing over my recent handy work. You just never know when a good idea is going to hit, and isn’t it amazing all the things you can find in the damn janitor’s closet. It’s like a total plethora of chaos in those things.

I’m not surprised to find most of the seats are filled, causing me to slide into one in the back. The bell rings as soon as my ass hits the wooden seat, and I start unpacking my things.

“Slut,” covered by a cough, fills the silence making my head snap up.

“Wow, now that’s one I’ve not heard in a while,” the guy standing in the front of the room says, turning from the whiteboard drawing my attention.

Yes! English is my preferred language. How do I get extra credit?!?!

The guy’s much younger than any teacher I’ve ever been privileged enough to have. His short, well-kept, dirty blonde hair and scruffy beard showcase his stormy blues as he searches over his spectators. It’s evident from the way his black henley squeezes his arms that he’s a man who takes pride in his workouts.

I bet he could hold 120 easily.

“Would you care to stand and introduce yourself?” he asks, heads swiveling to find who he’s staring at.

Once I’m on my feet, I notice his eyes linger briefly on the crusty white residue covering the front of the sweats for a moment before his head tilts just a little.

“Onyx,” I smile, hating when I feel my cheeks heat.

He rests on his desk, arms crossed over his defined chest, getting comfortable. “No last name?” he asks, cocking one of his brows.

“Sterling,” I answer quickly, noticing a hint of crinkles beside his eyes as though he’s hiding a smile.

“Mr. Brickman,” he introduces himself. “We’ve got something in common. We’re both newbies,” he informs me, finally putting his perfect smile on display. “Where did you migrate from?”

“Scarlet City,” I answer, noticing a few yawns break out around the room.

Nodding while he straightens. “A city girl, nice. I’m from a hill in West Virginia,” he throws out as he walks around his desk.

I sit before he starts class, thinking of a few more personal questions I wouldn’t mind him answering.

A piece of crumpled paper lands on my desk, and that’s when I notice Carney sitting in the row to my right, one desk up from me. She sneers, nodding at me to look at the wadded-up paper.

It doesn’t take a genius to know she’s not throwing me a love letter. But… what is it with these kids in the sticks? Who leaves evidence? In the city, we would have bought a copy of her transcript and started the massacre with burner phones and fake socials, not wadded-up pieces of paper with hard evidence all over them.

Watching her face lose the ugly shitty grin is priceless as she gawks in horror when I launch the crumpled ball at the front of the class. It hits Mr. Brickman in the back, heads swiveling around to see where it came from.

He stops writing on the board and turns, picking it up off the floor. “Tomlin, I thought we deciphered penis drawings belong in Art. Not English,” he says exhaustedly with a bored look.

“Not me this time,” a jock in the middle of the room answers back lazily.

All the color drains from Carney’s face when he opens the crumpled ball. All of us watch in dead silence as his eyes skim over the short note.

Raising his head, eyes scanning over the room, fisting the paper into a ball again. “Miss Graves, stand up,” he orders calmly. Once she’s standing beside her desk, he continues, “Catch.” Tossing the paper at her. She misses. “Let’s hope you read better than you catch. Tell everyone what it says,” he instructs, perching himself on the edge of his desk.

I bite my lip, listening to her sigh loudly. “Keep your slutty ass away from Vex. He’s mine,” she finishes, nervously swaying in spot, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.

“I’m assuming you aren’t referring to me,” he questions.

“No, sir,” she answers at the ground.

“Good. Cause I can assure you I’m not trying to claim Mr. Carver,” he counters clearly.

“Right,” she agrees quietly, cheeks suddenly turning red, making me bite my lip harder to contain my laughter.

“Let’s take a walk to Mr. Oswald’s office. The rest of you read chapter thirty-six,” he announces on his way towards the door, waiting while Carney gathers her stuff. “Miss Sterling, see me after class,” he calls before ushering her out the door.

I don’t need an ‘A’. I’m not concerned in the least by the alphabet. All I need to do is pass. Although, I’m not an idiot either. Everyone knows you don’t get on teacher’s shit lists. They can literally make years of your life a constant hell, which is why I’m still sitting in the empty classroom even though the bell rang over five minutes ago.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he apologizes before the doors fully open.

Meeting him at his desk. “It’s fine.”

He studies me for a brief second before he starts. “I noticed you missed my class earlier this week.”

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling well,” I lie, watching him organize some stuff on his desk.

He finishes, eyes scanning my attire again. “You’re feeling better?” he questions with a raised brow.

“Loads,” I counter, wondering if he’ll catch the joke.

He almost laughs until my treacherous stomach decides to growl. “I’m starving, too. Let’s walk,” he nods towards the door.

I follow him quietly to the panic box, counting my breaths as we wait once we’re sealed inside. “I hate these things, too. Reminds me of a … box,” he tells me, noticing the fear etched on my face.

We step out together, filling our lungs in unison. “Was there something you needed?” I politely ask once I’m able to breathe easily again.

“Right.” He smiles, extending an arm, gesturing for me to go first, then follows to fall into step beside me. “I just wanted to check in with you. I was new at the beginning of the year. I know how brutal this place can be.”

I nervously tuck some hair behind my ear. “Um, thanks. I appreciate that. But, I can handle it.”

We enter the dungeon room together, drawing massive whisper-worthy attention. “The offers out there. If you need a friend, you know where to find me.” He smiles again, squeezing my shoulder, leaving me by the buffet.