Chapter 12 #2
He dismisses me with a wave of his hand.
As I make my way back to the street, I fantasize about putting my fist through his smug face.
I need a drink or a spliff or something to calm me down.
I feel like I could beat the shit out of the next person I see.
My mind turns to Deja, and I imagine a more pleasurable way of working off my frustrations, wrapping my hands around her neck and fucking her till she bleeds.
Goddamnit, no! I have to get control of myself.
Hunching my shoulders, I prepare to trek to the nearest bus stop. I’ll take the bus as close to Briarwood as I can get, then grab a rideshare the rest of the way. That should give me some time to center myself before I pop off and do something I’ll regret.
As I’m strolling down the sidewalk approaching the gates of Briarwood, a red Tesla Model S makes a Uey and drives next to me, matching my pace. I peer inside to see Rourke van der Hoff behind the wheel.
“You need a ride?” he calls out.
“Sure.” I don’t know Rourke well. He’s a junior, but one of the stars of the soccer team. He’s as tall as I am, with dark blond hair cut long on the top and an unnerving pair of moss green eyes.
“I didn’t see you at practice today,” he says conversationally.
I don’t know how long Rourke has lived here, but he has a vaguely British accent, one that sounds upper class, and he dresses in expensive tracksuits and sportswear.
And when I say expensive, I mean outfits that cost thousands of dollars.
I’ve seen him get muddy in them, so I don’t think he really cares about them.
I guess that’s what happens when daddy’s money is unlimited.
“I had an appointment,” I explain. Coach doesn’t give a fuck because I’m on the team as a favor to Anton. Apparently, our Coach has a little gambling habit.
“You just made it onto A squad,” he says, shaking his head. “I’d think you’d prioritize practice.”
“Couldn’t be avoided,” I say, getting a little irritated, but trying to hide it. Just by sheer dint of dough, Rourke isn’t someone you wanted to piss off.
“Why not?”
“It was a family thing,” I say, sticking as close to the truth as was possible, which actually isn’t very close at all.
“Speaking of family,” he says, “I heard you were related to Deja Marcus.”
“Not really. Her stepdad’s my guardian.”
“She’s a very popular girl. Any chance you could…”
“Introduce you?”
“Well, of course we know each other. I just can’t get her to come to any of my parties.”
“You trying to impress people or something? I don’t think you need to do that. I’m pretty sure people will come to your parties just because they’re your parties.”
“True, but she’s not just popular, she’s also hot as fuck. What’s that look? You can’t blame me. You live with her. When she’s walking towards you it’s that figure and those gravity defying tits and then when she walks past you it’s that ass, those legs. You just want to bend her over and—”
“Can you not talk about her like that?” I ask, feeling a surge of the anger that’s been simmering inside me since I left Anton’s office.
“Uh! You’re fucking her.”
“I’m not fucking her. I just don’t like hearing people…”
“You are most definitely fucking her. And I think that’s good news for me. You can make her come to my next party.”
“I have no control over Deja.” That’s just a lie, but I’m not sure how I feel about Rourke yet, and in any case, I don’t think he wants a pissed off girl souring the mood.
“Just ask her. Do it after sex, they’re more agreeable then.”
“I’m not—“
“Give me your number. Let’s hang some time. My dad’s always in Europe, so any day, any time, any booze, any…treat, can be had at mine.”
We share contacts and I point him to a corner where he can drop me off. I’m still a quarter of a mile from Devin’s house, but I don’t mind a short walk through the woods.
“I’ll give you a call,” I promise, hopping out of the car.
When I get home Deja and her parents are already home.
I run upstairs to drop off my backpack in my room, it’s time for dinner.
I’m not really in the mood to sit at a table with Devin and his wife, but I don’t want to start a whole thing by refusing to eat at the table.
They are so annoyingly conventional. I’m convinced people like that are really screwed up or evil, that’s why they try so hard to make everyone think they’re normal.
Tonight’s dinner is a little more creative than usual. We have turkey chili and sweet potatoes roasted and sprinkled with pumpkin spice. Dessert is Greek yogurt panna cotta.
“Enjoying the food?” Devin asks when he sees me wolfing down the food.
I nod, not wanting to talk with my mouth full. I wipe my lips with a napkin and say,
“This is delicious, Tanisha. Thank you.” Her eyes bug out. I think this may be the first compliment I’ve ever paid her, but it’s well-earned.
“It’s been getting colder,” she says. “Time to start bringing on the soup.”
“Yeah!” Deja says. “Can you make butternut squash tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Tanisha says. They start talking about recipes and side dishes and I tune them out.
I hate Tanisha’s voice. It always sounds forced and artificially high-pitched.
Instead, I watch Deja’s face. She’s animated, and gesturing with her spoon, she smiles, her full lips separating to reveal even, white teeth.
I’d love to see her look at me like that, with affection in her eyes instead of irritation.
Especially if she was wearing something cute, like lingerie, or just the skirt of her cheer costume and she’d flip the skirt up and show me—.
“Brandon,” Devin is saying, “are you there?”
He asks me about soccer and offers a bunch of useless platitudes about hard work and consistency. I mention that I got a ride with Rourke and Deja makes a face.
“You don’t like Rourke?” I ask.
“He’s okay,” she says. “He just parties a little too hard for my taste.”
“What do you mean?” Tanisha asks.
“Binge drinking, basically. I’ve heard crazy stories, and he’s still a junior.”
I know that when she said “hard”, she wasn’t talking about alcohol. Two months at Briarwood and I already know Rourke loves his candy and is generous with it. His whole crew of too-rich boys in $100K cars live dangerously close to the edge.
After dinner, I hunker down in my room to do homework and study.
I’d initially wanted Deja to take most of this work off me, but I’m glad she refused.
While my mission at Briarwood is not to learn, I’d be an idiot to waste the opportunity.
I wish I’d come here sooner; I’ll never catch up with these kids academically, but l can still try to get closer to their level.
My phone buzzes with a text notification. It’s Anton telling me to pick something up from the drop spot.
ME: I’ll do it in the morning
ANTON: Do it now. I need this done ASAP!
Fuck me! It’s 10:30 at night and I have to sneak out, make a three-mile round trip through the woods and sneak back in without being detected. I wait another half an hour until everyone’s lights are off, then tiptoe downstairs.
ME: Turn off the alarm and exterior camera.
If I didn’t know Devin was blackmailing a criminal, I’d probably think his security setup was overkill, but as it is I totally get it. Anton responds after a few minutes.
ANTON: Done
I go out the kitchen door, past the trash cans, and through the narrow passage that leads to the alley gate.
I’m cold and sweaty by the time I get to the marked tree, and I will tell you that is not a fun combination.
I pull what looks like a pencil case out of the usual hiding place. Inside are several small devices.
ME: Got it.
ANTON: Let me know when you get home. You need to install them tonight.
Is this motherfucker kidding? I’m livid all over again.
Why can’t he just be patient and let me decide the safest time to do things.
I could so easily get caught tonight but he’s really insistent that I get the equipment in place before dawn.
I hate being ordered around. I begin to fantasize about Deja, sitting on my lap, all sweet and naked.
Then I’m doing things to her that make her writhe in agony.
She begs me to stop and pleads for mercy. And she comes.