Chapter 8
Jace
Of all the stupid shit I’ve done, standing by and watching Ava beat Lilla down tops it off.
Lilla has been on my mind for two years now.
I hid in the back, watching the way she carried herself.
I tried to keep Ava off her back. Looking back, I should have done more, made Ava quit her shit.
One thing I know now is that there is no stopping Ava from being a bitch.
It’s ingrained into her soul, running through her thick blood.
Tonight she went too far; her need to break Lilla down is something I’ll never understand, but I’ll be damned if it continues.
When Lilla walked into the party, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
She’s effortlessly beautiful, a firecracker, especially when her vodka lemonades hit just right.
She was a party girl when she wanted to be, and a loner when she needed to be.
When she turned around, I knew it was her—the girl on the bridge, contemplating jumping.
In that moment, I was done fucking around.
I could no longer hide in the shadows, making small moves to keep Ava a decent fucking human.
I was over it before shit hit the fan; I was going to tell Ava off.
I never knew she would stoop so low, and when she did, I lost it.
My rage boiled, sending my fists flying into Jeff’s face, and the worst part was that I wanted to hit Ava.
Never would I hit a woman, but in that moment, I wanted to; maybe that makes me an evil man.
Hell, maybe standing by watching Lilla get bullied makes me just as fucking evil as Ava.
I know I’ve done some fucked up shit; I’ve had my fair share of ladies, drugs, and over-drinking. In doing all that, I’d like to think I’m a good person, but after tonight, I’m so fucking torn. What did I do?
If you ask my dad, I’m becoming a problem. I know I need a change; the boy I am isn’t the man I want to be.
Just a block from home, I do a slow roll through the stop sign, turn onto my street, when blue and red light up the night sky behind me, and a quick siren tells me I fucked up. The time on the dash reads 2:30 am. Fuck. I pull over in front of my house, and the police officer pulls right behind me.
I get out all the paperwork. Like I told Lilla, I got into some trouble; this isn’t my first rodeo. The officer comes to my window, shining his flashlight, asks for the paperwork I already have in hand, then asks the very question I was silently begging him not to. “Have you been drinking tonight?”
I’m sure as shit not going to lie, because he can probably fucking tell. “Yes, Sir.” Just when I think shit can’t get worse. My dad rips open the front door, storming out in his coat and sweatpants.
“Officer, what’s going on?” My dad takes a big breath as the cop tells him, I have in fact been drinking, and ran the stop sign. Fucking Great.
My dad snaps his fingers and yells, “OUT NOW!” He marches behind me, on my ass, until we are both inside the house.
“God damn it, Jace. How many fucking times are we going to do this? You do realize he could have taken you to jail, you're lucky he didn’t.” My head drops because I know I fucked up.
“Why didn’t he?” I ask as my dad sits on the couch next to me.
“I told him, I’d handle it. I can’t keep doing this.
It’s one time too many. We have all these talks, son, and you go right back at it.
Drinking and driving, smoking, I’ve found pot in your jeans numerous times.
You get into fight after fight, you just aren't getting it. Your mom and I spoke last week when we found your stash, again, and we enrolled you in boarding school. You leave tomorrow morning at five a.m.” Seriously.
My mom comes down the stairs, stops at the bottom, and crosses her arms. Disappointment falls over her face; she shakes her head and slowly heads back upstairs.
I can feel my rage boiling. “Dad, I’m fine, I’ll settle down, let me stay.” He stands, throwing his arms up in frustration.
“It’s too late, son, this is it. I’ve had enough.
I’m a Chief Military General Surgeon; I can’t have you causing chaos.
It doesn’t look good.… I don’t want you to go, but you need guidance, and I’m out of ideas.
You have a problem. You drink 24/7, I find beers stashed everywhere: bathroom, shower, under your bed, in your car.
You party too much, you're doing drugs… Look at your knuckles, you're clearly fighting again. You’re going to get hurt, or kill someone, and I won’t sit back and watch it happen.
You have two choices. You go and fix your mindset, or you’re out of our house, and I hope like hell you listen, because I’m just trying to set you up for life, son.
This path you're going down is a dead end to self-destruction, and I love you too much to watch.” I can feel my heart break because my dad is standing before me, one, saying I’m not good enough for the title that he worked his ass off to get, and two, he’s at a loss with me, and my inability to stop doing what I’m doing.
The truth is, it’s fun, the feeling of the rush when the alcohol hits, and everything fades into the back, when all you feel is numbness.
It’s thrilling. I’m also young and just enjoying life.
I want to yell and fight back, I want to stay, but I know there is no use going against my dad.
“Alright. I’ll be ready by five.”
I didn’t sleep, mainly because I’m pissed at myself for letting my dad down when he’s done nothing but take care of our family. And secondly, because I left Lilla without a goodbye. The things we said that night were deep… things that shouldn’t be left alone.
She shouldn’t be alone, but I had no choice. I had to go.
The bus ride was long, full of boys who were in the same boat as I was.
I’ve tried to shift focus, to shift all my energy into basketball, and it worked for a while, until it wasn't enough.
Now I sit here on a Greyhound bus taking me to a new school, of all places, in the middle of nowhere. Fucking great.
My iPod is the only thing that makes the drive enjoyable. All the guys sit in their own seats; we are far past making friends on the bus, and everyone seems just as pissed to be here as I am.
We arrive at our destination four hours later, and as we step off the bus, we all make our way into an auditorium. This place is enormous. A man in a uniform stands proudly, holding out pamphlets. I take one and follow the guy in front of me to the third row. We both plop down and review the paper.
The first page welcomes us to Valley West Academy.
The second page is the schedule…
7:00-7:30 Wake up, morning hygiene, dorm check-in
7:30-8:15 Breakfast with peers and faculty
8:15-9:00 Preparatory time, review assignments
9:00-12:00 Core academic classes
1:00-2:30 Elective classes
2:30-3:45 Athletic practice or club meetings
4:30-6:00 pm Dinner
At day's end, there will be a dorm room check-in. Lights out will be enforced at 10 pm.
“It’s like a fucking prison.” The guy sitting next to me laughs, not realizing I said that out loud.
I turn my head to him and laugh, because what else are we going to do?
He’s tall, with amber skin and short, jet-black hair.
His eyes lock with mine. “Names, Hayden.
Looks like we're stuck in prison together.” I shake his hand, happy to have at least one friend in this shit hole.
“My name's Jace, and yeah, no shit.” The head guy walks out onto the stage, his bald head shining off the auditorium lights.
“Welcome, students, to Valley West Academy, an all-boys school, designed for your success. Today, we will review how this place works, what awaits you, and how we will help you grow as individuals and teammates. We are in this together, we grow together; and in doing so, we will grow individually, leaving here better men.” The faculty all clap, yeah fucking right.
I sit and listen to his spiel about everything that is in store, and if you ask me, I’m not fucking here for it. As he talks about a brighter future starting here, I think about what I left behind; my parents and Lilla.
After over an hour, they dismiss us to our dorms, and it turns out Hayden is my roommate.
I’m not complaining; better than being completely alone, and we already met, so it’s a win-win.
Hayden and I get situated before we head down to the cafeteria for dinner, where all the boys are to eat together.
“This is going to be the longest year ever.” Hayden throws on his sweatshirt as we step out of our new home.
“So, what did you do to get in this shit hole?” Hayden's voice is deep; he stands about two feet taller than me, and I’m not a petite guy.
“Two DWIs in six months… my dad found pot, pills, on multiple occasions, and finally got tired of my shit, I guess. You?” He nods in understanding.
“Same. Bad road, surrounded by bad friends, had a pyro stage, set a building on fire, tried to run but got caught, and here I am.” He says it so nonchalantly, and I get it entirely.
Getting into the cafeteria, it’s how you imagine it would be. Tables in rows; all guys are wearing the same uniform and acting like robots. Now I, too, am part of this clan.
The food is as I expected it to be–shit–but who am I to complain? I’m here because of my actions. I know my mom was the reason I remained home for as long as I did. She always vouched for my good graces. She believed my lies when I said I was going to change.
Those good graces were seldom, and the promises I made never stuck.
My actions told more than my words, and now I’m here.