Chapter 2 #2
Was he trying to convince me, or himself, that he did the right thing?
“Te voy a matar,” I said, shaking my head. Sucesor? The fuck is he talking about? He’s going to take Carlos’s place? This couldn’t get any fucking worse.
“Shy, porfa.” He pleaded, staring at me with his one good eye. “It’s done, okay. I made my decision. Don’t get mad at me for doing what’s best for you,” he defended.
“?Me vale verga! What’s best for me is having the only fucking human on this planet that I care about alive and happy and-and with me!
” I shouted, not caring if I woke up my dad and Kush.
“You think you’re saving me because you can afford to ship me off to a college across the country with your blood money you’ll earn becoming the next Carlos?
You think you’ve got some fucked up fatherly duty to make sure I don’t end up like you?
In case you forgot while you were too busy worrying about your damn hero complex: you’re not my fucking father!
And you’ve just ruined any chance of a relationship with the one person in the world that actually gives a shit about you. ”
I heaved out a breath, my chest burning with so much anger I thought I might vomit. Javier’s stare turned glassy like he was going to cry. I might have felt bad for him, seeing him cry for the first time since he was a kid, but he would have to live with the consequences of his actions.
“I will never forgive you for making me your reason to ruin your life. I hope you enjoy all your fucking money you’re going to be earning as a gang leader doing shitty fucking things with a bunch of shitty, fucked-up people.
Don’t you dare fucking try to blame me for your choices.
You have no responsibility for my life and if you would have gotten that through your thick fucking skull you wouldn’t be in this mess.
But I guess you’re too fucking selfish to realize that you just ruined both of our lives. ”
I scoffed and shook my head, “Chinga tu madre.”
Javier called out to me, attempting to catch my arm but I shook him off and grabbed my shit, slamming the door behind me. I blinked away the tears before they could form and make today any more of a fucking disaster.
I crossed into the bathroom, quickly locking the door and getting ready for the day. I knew that if I kept thinking about Javier ranking up, I would end up crying, so I pushed the thought as far away from my fucking mind as possible.
It was a normal day. Just another Thursday.
It wasn’t much longer before I was dressed in a pair of leggings and one of Javier’s old sweatshirts. With the nicks on my neck, I decided to leave my damp hair down, it was a hassle as it was just to wash it with strands getting caught in the cut on my hand.
I peered around the door, listening for the sounds of anyone else awake, before sneaking past Kush who was passed out in the living room and heading to school.
The walk to school was twenty minutes, fifteen if I walked fast, and I usually enjoyed every minute.
It gave me time to think, process shit that I couldn’t handle at home, and, like this morning, it gave me time to continue studying for my Econ quiz.
Which was fucking difficult when I still wanted to strangle Javier.
I arrived at school with ten minutes to spare before the bell, and I quickly made my way to my locker to get out what I needed for the day.
It was annoying that I didn’t have Econ first because that meant my mind would be focused all day on the impending quiz to take place last period.
Some might have seen that as an advantage, getting more time to study, but I just wanted to get the damn thing over with already because it was stressing me the fuck out.
I already had enough shit on my mind with the atomic bomb Javier dropped on me this morning.
Fortunately, the day didn’t drag and soon enough I was in Mr. Sandoval’s class.
I was pleased with my work as I handed in the quiz, relieved to have completed it within the time frame and still have had time to go back and double-check my answers.
When the bell rang, I took my time packing up my bag, having zero interest in shoving my way through the crowded hallways.
After about five minutes I decided I’d better get to the library.
I probably looked like an antisocial nerd with my resting bitch face and lack of friends, but I didn’t intentionally ignore everyone at my school.
It was easy to assume that most people didn’t care to know who I was either when the only friends I ever had drifted to other friend groups as we got older.
Other than the occasional odd stare due to my deformed eyes, most people were content to leave me alone. I liked it that way. It meant that I didn’t have to worry about being nice to anyone or have to deal with pathetic high school drama.
I had enough drama in my life. I didn’t need any more.
I narrowly dodged a guy with his head down staring at his phone, rolling my eyes at his lack of observation skills as I skirted around him and into the double doors of the library.
I personally didn’t understand everyone’s obsession with cell phones, always having their nose’s stuck in front of them like they were The Holy Bible or something.
Or maybe that was just my cynicism and jealousy for not having one.
Although, it made me nauseous just thinking about owning a phone that cost over a thousand dollars.
That was why Javier never bothered to get me one.
I was pretty sure he didn’t want to add to his list of favors that Carlos gave him by hooking me up with a cell phone plan.
And after everything he said yesterday, I was beginning to think he’d prevented me from having a phone to protect me if shit went south.
It was hard to think someone was a snitch when they didn’t have a phone or friends to tell shit to.
Why the hell hadn’t I thought of that sooner?
I pushed away the thought and nodded in acknowledgment at Mr. Crane who waved hello to me as I entered the peer tutoring office located at the back of the library. I paused at the desk where the sign-up sheet was located and furrowed my brow at the missing name.
“Millie isn’t here yet?” I asked over my shoulder.
“No, I haven’t seen her. But I’m sure they’ll be someone else you can help today.” Mr. Crane grabbed the stack of paper freshly off the copier and took a seat behind his desk. “Sit down for a minute, Shiloh. How ya doin’, kid?”
I pursed my lips, letting out a huff of irritation through my nose before plopping down in the chair he motioned toward.
I tried to remind myself that Mr. Crane was an okay-guy who seemed dedicated enough to his job and that I could manage a little bit of small talk with the man.
It must have been stressful putting up with hellraising, annoying teenage shits every day, which probably contributed to some of the wrinkles on the balding, middle-aged man.
The least I could do was be polite for a few minutes until someone came in for help.
“Yeah, I’m doing fine,” I shrugged, grabbing one of the stress balls off his desk and squeezing it until the eyes popped out of the alien looking thing.
“And how’s the college essay?”
I muttered a curse under my breath, and he raised a bushy brow at me.
“I haven’t started it.”
He chuckled with a shake of his head, “Procrastinatin’?”
“No, I just don’t know what to write about,” I shrugged, gritting my teeth as I assaulted the hell out of the stress ball. “All the prompts are fucking stupid. And they probably use, like, an AI bot to read them anyways, so it’s honestly a waste of my fucking time.”
“Language,” Mr. Crane chastised halfheartedly. He was well aware of my adoration for the use of swear words, and there was no breaking the habit at this point. “I must admit some of the prompts are a bit dry, but just get a rough draft done and we can go over it together, m’kay?”
“If I wanted guidance, Mr. Crane, I would’ve made an appointment during the school day to get out of one of my least liked classes,” I deadpanned.
“Oh, stop. I just want you to succeed. I know you put in a lotta effort to do well in school, and I don’t wanna see that go to waste.”
I grimaced at his praise, an awkward silence falling between us as I struggled to come up with a response.
He wasn’t wrong; I wasn’t naturally smart.
I spent hours studying to get high grades in all my classes.
I’d been attending the peer tutoring center since freshman year mostly as a non-sports related reason to stay as long as possible at school, but I wasn’t always a tutor.
Someone cleared their throat behind us, and I turned around to follow Mr. Crane’s gaze. I recognized the guy as the one who’d almost run into me in the hall and rolled my eyes, turning back to face Mr. Crane.
“Hi. Come in and take a seat. What can we do for ya?”
The guy settled into the chair beside me, and I glanced side long at him to take in his appearance.
He had a mop of shaggy chestnut waves on top of his head, brown eyes, a sharp jawline, and pink lips that were pulled downwards into a slight frown. He was clutching onto the shoulder strap of his backpack as he sat tall in the chair, unlike my slouched body.
“I’m hoping to get some help with Algebra II?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth, not at all what I was expecting out of him.
“Well, you’re in the right place, Mr. Reznikovsky. Just sign in,” Mr. Crane held out the clipboard to him, “and our resident mathematician here can take a look at what you’re struggling with.”
I scowled at Mr. Crane who flashed me with a knowing smile, shooing us out of his office. I cursed him under my breath and didn’t bother checking if the guy was following me as I walked across to the nearest empty study room.