Chapter 46
Sam
The bell rings, and I push up from my desk, shoving my notebook into my bag.
It’s the first day back since winter break, and it’s actually been nice to be in school again. It feels like a vacation after the long shifts I pulled at the diner. If anything, at least I get some time off my feet.
I move along with the shuffle of other kids, making my way into the cafeteria. I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning or time last night to pack a lunch, so I’m starving.
Taking a tray, I start down the line, grabbing anything that looks close to edible. I swear the shit they serve barely resembles food, but my lips tip up when I see a bowl of chocolate pudding. At least I know that’ll be good.
Leaning forward I reach for it, just before another hand snatches it.
Turning, I look over at the girl who took it, glaring when I see her smirking at me.
“That’s mine,” I snap.
Slowly, she drags her gaze down to her tray, baiting me. “No, actually, I think it’s mine.”
“Juliette,” the girl behind her whisper-hisses, nudging her with a shoulder. “What are you doing?”
Juliette shrugs, feigning innocence. “Nothing. Just getting my lunch.”
“Yeah, well”—I reach for her tray—“that’s my fucking pudding.”
She scoffs. “What? You think you’re just entitled to everything because of who you are?”
I raise a brow. What does she mean because of who I am?
“You know”—she leans into me, dropping her voice—“your loser brother used to steal from my dad’s store.”
“What?”
“He wasn’t even that subtle about it.”
“What Carson does has nothing to do—”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m not talking about him. I’m talking about the dead one.”
“Keep moving,” the lunch lady hollers, but I don’t listen. I barely even hear her.
“The fuck did you just say?”
“Johnny was his name, right?”
I go utterly still. “Don’t say his fucking name.”
“Juliette,” her friend warns.
“Can’t say I was surprised when I heard what happened, though. I mean, he was a thug; not like his life was going anywhere. We’re all probably better off—”
All I see is red.
The next thing I know, I’m on top of her, smashing my tray into her face. The crunch her nose makes as it breaks gives me a sickening sense of satisfaction.
She’s shoving at me to get off of her, blood dripping down her face. People around us are shouting, their voices a blur as her words play through my head.
The dead one.
Johnny was his name, right?
Life was going nowhere.
Probably better off.
My mind is spinning, the voices too loud, too many. I feel arms around my waist, pulling me back, and my body sags, my legs nearly giving out.
“Help her up,” the person behind me shouts, and I watch as two boys help Juliette to her feet. “And somebody go get the nurse.”
People start rushing around us, and I spot Mr. Garcia, the SRO, pushing through the cafeteria doors.
Fuck.
He stops in front of us, his gaze moving past me. “I’ve got it from here.”
“Are you going to stay calm if I let you go?” the person behind me questions.
I nod.
He shifts, and I suddenly find my history teacher, Mr. Martin, standing in front of me, a look of disappointment on his face. I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but it does. He’s one of the only teachers in this school I actually like.
I look from him to Juliette. She’s covering her face with her hands, her friends fussing around her.
Mr. Garcia moves in front of me just as the nurse flies into the room, going right for Juliette.
“Sam,” he says, dragging my attention back to him. He stares down at me, a scowl on his face. “You gonna make this difficult?”
I shake my head, and he motions to the door. Grabbing my bag, I start moving, my body tense as he follows closely behind me.
Once we’re out in the hall, the fog of what just happened begins to clear, and I realize fully what I’ve done.
My steps falter, and Garcia’s voice sounds from behind me to keep moving.
The closer we get to the principal’s office, the more I begin to panic, worried that I’ve finally pushed it too far this time.
“I’ve gotta pee,” I blurt out, turning to face him.
Garcia’s lips thin, like he doesn’t believe me, but he nods toward the closest bathroom and mutters, “I’ll be right outside. You’ve got two minutes.”
Quickly, I push into the bathroom, grateful to find it empty. I move over to the sink and fish through my bag, grabbing my phone and dialing Jameson’s number.
“Come on, come on. Pick up,” I breathe as it continues to ring. When I get his voicemail, I slam my hand down on the sink. “Shit!”
I step back, pacing, when the phone begins to ring.
“Jamie,” I say, my voice frantic.
“What happened?” he answers immediately. “You okay?”
“I fucked up, Jamie. I really fucked up this time. And I don’t know what—”
“Slow down,” he cuts in. “Just tell me what happened, all right? And we’ll fix it.”
I blow out a breath, trying to calm myself. “Yeah, all right.”
When I still don’t say anything, he pushes, “You’re freaking me out, baby. You’ve gotta tell me what happened.”
“I …” I swallow. “I smashed this girl’s face with my lunch tray, and I’m pretty sure I broke her nose.”
“What’d she do?”
“Huh?”
“To make you smash her in the face?” he asks, his voice lethal.
“She took my pudding and—”
“Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“You broke a girl’s nose ’cause she took your pudding?”
“What—no! Do you think I’m insane?”
“I mean, you’re not exactly known to be chill about things.”
“Jesus, Jamie, no, I didn’t break a girl’s nose for taking my pudding.”
“Then what?”
“She was talking shit about Johnny.”
“Who is this girl?” he growls.
“I don’t know. Her name’s Juliette. Said Johnny used to steal from her father’s store. Told me he was a thug and that—”
“That what?”
I clear my throat. “That everyone was probably better off that he—”
“Oh, fuck no,” Jameson mutters. “What’d she think was gonna happen to her, saying something like that?”
“It’s not like I regret it.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I don’t. It’s just that it happened in the middle of the cafeteria. A teacher had to pull me off of her, and there was a lot of blood. Everybody saw, and I’m—”
A fist pounding on the door cuts me off.
“Time’s up,” Garcia shouts.
I walk over to the sink and turn on the water before yelling back, “Be right out.”
“Who was that?” Jameson asks.
“Garcia. He was taking me to the office, but I told him I had to go to the bathroom. He’s waiting outside.”
“If her nose is broken …”
“I know,” I tell him. “That’s why I’m freaking out. What if they press charges? And you know they’re gonna call my dad.” My words are coming out a mile a minute. “He’s gonna be so pissed. I don’t even know—”
“It’s all gonna be okay.”
“You don’t know that. What if—”
“Listen to me. Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. Okay?”
I don’t answer.
“Baby?”
More pounding sounds from the door. “Sam!” Garcia calls out. “You have thirty seconds, or I’m coming in.”
“I’ve really gotta go.”
“Tell me you hear what I’m saying,” Jameson presses.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I hear you.”
I hang up, sliding the phone into my back pocket just before the bathroom door pushes open.
“I’m coming,” I call out.
Garcia narrows his eyes at me when I slip past him, following behind me as I start toward the office.
I pull the door open, and he motions toward the chairs in the reception area. “Sit.”
Scowling at him, I bite back my response, trying to play this smart.
He greets the secretary, Mrs. Jacobson, with a smile, and she nods back at him dismissively before going back to typing.
“So,” I start to ask, pulling his attention back to me from where he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, “what am I looking at?”
“Well, it’s not just going to be some slap on this wrist this time, if that’s what you were hoping for.”
I fidget in my seat.
“You brought yourself into a whole other league with that stunt you just pulled.”
“Bitch deserved it,” I mutter under my breath.
He leans forward. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” I mumble.
Several minutes pass in silence before I motion to Principal Hansley’s office. “So, what are we waiting for?”
“A report from the nurse.”
I nod.
“And your father.”
“My father?”
“He’s on his way.”
I knew he’d likely be called, but my hands still curl in on themselves until my nails dig into my palms.
“And if her nose is broken?”
“Depends.”
I wait for him to explain, and when he doesn’t, I take the bait.
“Depends on what?”
“If they press charges.”
“You think they’d—”
“Yup,” he answers before I can even finish.
His chin is tilted forward, a smug fucking look on his face, like the idea of me finally messing up this badly satisfies him.
Well, fuck him.
I rip my gaze away from his, turning so I’m facing forward.
“You’ll be lucky if you’re not expelled.” He clicks his tongue. “It would be such a shame if you made it this far only—”
The door pushes open, and I snap my eyes up, locking with my father’s as he storms into the room.
Garcia steps forward. “Mr. Barlowe—”
“What were you thinking?” my father seethes, moving until he’s right in front of me.
“I—”
“No,” he cuts in. “You weren’t thinking, were you? You never do. I had to leave work for this, Samantha. Do you get that? The foreman was up my ass—”
“Mr. Barlowe …” Garcia tries again, but it’s like my father doesn’t even hear him.
“Have I not got enough shit to deal with, huh? Now you’ve gotta go and do this. It’s like you’re just asking for it. Just asking for me—”
Garcia drops a hand down on my father’s shoulder. “Let’s just calm down and—”
“Calm down?” My father laughs. “Yeah, okay, buddy. You try having her as a daughter and then tell me to calm down. It’s one thing after another with this one.
” He turns back, pointing at me. “And you’ve really done it this time, haven’t you?
What a set of kids I have, huh? All fuck-ups, the lot of you. ”
“Mr. Barlowe,” someone else calls, and I see Principal Hansley standing in his open doorway. “If you could please step inside so we can discuss the situation at hand.”
My father nods. “Yeah, all right,” he mutters, starting toward the door. “Let’s hear it then.”