Chapter 9
Casey
I learned a lot during my first week. Rule one, never carry anything of value on yourself.
Rule two, never linger alone at your locker.
It was the perfect spot to be jumped by someone looking for you.
On my third day, Hunter reappeared, muttering threats over my shoulder about finishing what he started with me.
I ignored him and moved away. From then on, when I arrived at school, I prepacked a vintage Air Force bag that I’d found at the nearby thrift store with all the books I’d need until lunch, so I wouldn’t have to keep going back to my locker after each class.
Another lesson I learned was that this school had multiple drills: for fire, shooters, bombs, and other potential lockdowns.
And most of the time, it wasn’t just a drill; it was for an actual threat.
On Thursday during Math, the alarm went off, three shrill blasts, and without pause, all the kids piled up into the corner of the classroom while Mr. Fortin closed and locked the door.
I followed suit, wondering what the hell was happening when I heard a helicopter outside and realized the police were here.
I had been terrified at that moment, shaking as I sat crouched on the ground.
But shortly after, I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders, and I peeked up to see Lee sitting on my other side, and he was pulling me close.
I didn’t know where he had come from, as I had initially been squashed between two other kids who I had never spoken to.
But I was so grateful at that moment I had forgotten I’d been keeping my guard up around these guys all week.
Once Lee escorted me home, which was basically him walking five feet behind me the entire way and then watching as I hurried up my steps to my front door, he hadn’t said a word since.
And now here he was, with his arm around my shoulders, reassuring me. There was nothing underhanded about the move. I could feel it. He was just being… Lee .
So I huddled into his side, trying to keep myself calm and collected as I listened to the sounds of sirens outside and lots of shouting.
When I heard actual gunfire going off, I covered my ears and shut my eyes.
It’d been ages since I heard gunshots, and the sound echoed in my mind with memories I wish I couldn’t remember.
The other students were as cool as cucumbers, sitting patiently and all looking relatively relaxed as all of this was going on.
I glimpsed up at Lee and noticed that, despite the fact he was lounging with one leg bent, the other resting alongside my left one, his jaw was tense, and his eyes never left the door to the classroom which was still locked shut.
I got the feeling that he was keeping watch in his own way, and I wondered for a minute what he would do if someone did try to get in here.
There was some more shouting outside, and I cringed away, his hand tightening on my upper arm as he held me. He reminded me of a cat, ready to strike should the moment call for it.
I felt his fingers in my hair, stroking the long strands, occasionally looping them around his hand with a playful tug before he resumed combing through it again.
This old action comforted me more than anything.
As kids, Lee had always been the one to play with my hair, braid it, something I taught him how to do the first year we met, or just to stroke repeatedly.
I slowly peered up at him, and his eyes came to me.
We were so close I could feel his breath on my temple, watching as he licked his bottom lip in a way that sent a little thrill through me.
God, I’d always loved his mouth. Always wondered what it would have been like to touch them, to kiss him…
But then, as quickly as it all started, it was over.
The alarms shut off, the lights came back on, and Mr. Fortin unlocked the door and went back to standing before the board to resume the lesson.
All the kids rose and sat back in their desks as if we were just taking a midday break and not hiding in case a shooter was trying to storm the school.
Lee let me go and went straight back to his seat, his silence unsettling me.
It was so unlike him. When I settled back at my desk, which was in front of his, I whispered, “Thank you.”
There was only silence behind me. For a brief moment, I wanted to confront him and ask him why?
What had I done to deserve the cold shoulder from them all?
But then again, I’d told them I wanted to be left alone.
So I hunched over my notebook and scribbled down the notes from the board.
In my peripheral vision, I could see a helicopter flying by the window at my side.
I glanced over, momentarily worried that the shooter was back, when I caught sight of my reflection.
I stared back at myself, but it was the hand reaching out behind me that caught me off guard.
It took me a second to realize that Lee was reaching out, as if he wanted to touch my hair but was stopping just short of actually making contact.
The look on his face, the tight pained expression, made my heart wrench.
They were leaving me alone, as I’d requested. But I could see how much he wanted to reach out and play with my hair like he used to, weaving the strands between his fingers when we sat side by side.
At least, I knew Shaw and Lee missed me.
Vail was another story altogether.
If I saw him in the halls, he ignored me, not even looking my way. I was less than nothing to him, and it stung.
We later found out that several members of Company had come onto school grounds, apparently seeking out specific guys that were a part of the Jackals.
Fists had been thrown, guns were drawn, and in the end, one of the Harley Public guys was shot in the leg by a cop, and two others were arrested.
The rest scattered, and the guys who were part of the Jackals that had been involved were brought in for questioning.
By the time it was the end of my first week, I was exhausted.
Not only was I trying to attend my classes and catch up on the curriculum, but I was constantly on guard when I was at school.
I always looked over my shoulder, watched out for Celeste and her crowd, and hurried off in the other direction when Hunter or any of the Jackal members were in the vicinity.
On top of it all, every lunch hour when I sat in my usual spot alone, I could see the members of Vendetta, figuring out it was them because Meredith and Midnight, or Haldon or whatever his name was, were always sitting with them.
But on occasion, I’d see Shaw, Lee, or Vail sit with them at lunch, talking softly with their heads close together.
This only confirmed my earlier suspicion when Lee had mentioned being a part of a crew.
They were members. And from what I could see, they were always treated with the utmost respect.
When they joined Vendetta for lunch, the space was cleared for them, and the rest seemed to hang on to every word they said, which usually came from Vail.
I was also keeping in contact with Nylah, messaging her back and forth, but it wasn’t the same as seeing each other in person.
I desperately wanted to grab a taxi and spend the weekend at her house, but I also knew she had a lot going on with school and sports.
She kept reassuring me that she hadn’t seen that stalker biker at all, but I didn’t believe her.
Whenever I asked, she would change the subject after a quick, nope .
Mr. Bryant also messaged, checking in to make sure everything was okay, and though Keith and I were not bonding, I didn’t want to cause problems. He was dealing with a lot of stuff with his job when I left.
I could see the strain on his face at supper when Laila talked about her art, or asked Nylah and me about our days.
So I told him I was fine, that things were going well, and left it at that.
But it was a lie.
When I woke up that first Saturday morning after my first week of school, Keith just arrived home from a night shift, and he was beyond enraged.
I guess some late Friday night partiers stiffed him on their fare.
I had no idea, of course, since I had been just sleeping in my little twin bed when he burst in in a rage, the door smashing open with a bang.
“Wh-what? What is it?” I sat up, rubbing my eyes, my heart pounding from the sudden crash that awakened me from my sleep.
He simply walked in and started in on me, shouting about how I ruined his life.
How he now had to work himself silly to support me, that the first child support cheque he received from the Government was barely enough for a week’s worth of groceries, and that I was a drain on his life…
as if any of it was my fault. Living with him now, I saw the angry, bitter, drunk that Mom had briefly told me about when I was fourteen and had asked about him.
She’d been honest about it but didn’t want to elaborate.
I could feel a rage building inside me as Keith paced my room, shouting and blaming me for everything wrong in his life. I refused to cry.
Instead, I stared up at his ruddy red face that matched his hair, glad when I saw nothing of myself there.
That would make it harder to distance myself from him.
I listened as he rambled on about nonsense, blaming me for shit that was far from my fault, and I struggled to keep a passive expression on my face.
There was no point in arguing with an angry fool.
It would be like picking a fight with a pissed-off chicken.
Nothing would change. He’d still be an angry chicken by the time I finished arguing my point.
“... your bitch of a mother, fucking me over, leaving me for that rich prick…”
No, he fucking didn’t .