Chapter 28 – CJ
“Who can describe the shape of DNA?”
CJ looked around, wondering if anyone would answer Billson’s question. He’d expected the teacher to begin allowing them to practice their presentations. Since he had to return to Skye’s place tonight to complete their submission, he was happy they were discussing something else.
“Anyone?” The teacher gazed at everyone, his lifted brow calling them unenthused motherfuckers on the down low. “Can anyone tell me what DNA stands for?”
Absolute silence.
“This will be on your exams, people,” Mr. Billson said irritably. “You should know this. Several of you are entering DNA centered projects into the science fair. You can’t tell me you’re working blindly.”
Yep, that’s exactly what the fuck they could say. Or not say. Because there wasn’t a motherfucking peep.
“What four letters are the language of life?”
CJ glowered. If someone didn’t fucking open their mouths, Mr. Billson would spring a pop quiz on them. He was of the opinion that if students were too shy to speak up in class, they might do better with a fucking test sprung on them.
Absolutely not. It rarely fucking worked, which just led to longer fucking tests.
“What do the letters stand for?”
CJ drummed his fingers on the desk.
“What makes up the shape of DNA that none of you can describe?”
And there the fuck it was. The fifth fucking question. The one that signaled he was on the verge of calling for the quiz.
Fuck, fine.
“It’s a double helix, sir,” CJ said. “It looks like a twisted ladder. The sides of the helix are made up of sugar and phosphorous…” Fuck, that didn’t sound right.
CJ thought for a moment. “No, wait. It’s phosphate.
The rungs are nitrogen based and are your letters of life.
A, T, C, G. Adenine, Thymine, Cytosine, and Guanine. DNA stands for Deoxyribonucleic Acid.”
Pacing in front of the blackboard, Mr. Billson rubbed his chin. “What does ‘A’ pair with? Or does it matter?”
Since CJ had answered every last one of Mr. Billson’s questions, he fell silent, hoping another one of his classmates stepped up.
Jaleena raised her hand.
Mr. Billson halted and folded his arms. “Yes, Miss Davis?”
“DNA doesn’t interest me, sir. So that makes it very hard for me to remember what I’m supposed to.”
“Sincerest apologies to you, Miss Davis,” Billson said, not in the least sorry. “Since this is a very small segment of my lessons, I hope you’ll let it sink in enough to pass. I’d hate for you to end up in summer school over a two-week lesson that’s also a major part of your grade.”
“Yes, sir,” she responded.
“Spell the four ‘ines’ for me, Miss Davis.”
“I don’t have a spelling issue, Mr. Billson. I have a subject matter problem.”
Mr. Billson shrugged, then looked at CJ. “My last question was directed at you, Mr. Caldwell.”
Of course it fucking was. “What was it again, sir?”
“What does ‘A’ pair with? Or does it matter?”
“A pairs with G,” CJ said.
“Why?”
Because some motherfucker put that shit together to torture the fuck out of students. “Because they are purines, sir.”
“What are purines, Mr. Caldwell?”
A motherfucking pain in the ass. “Large, double-ring structures.”
“You remember the pairing how?”
“Your memory phrase. Apples in the tree. Adenine pairs with Thymine. Cars in the garage. Cytosine pairs with Guanine.”
“Tell it to Miss Davis, please.”
She was sitting five fucking feet away. CJ was sure she’d heard. He refused to look at her. “Jaleena,” he said with a long-suffering sigh. “Apples in the tree. Cars in the garage.” Stupid fucking sayings, but it did jog his memory. “Adenine pairs with Thymine. Cytosine pairs with Guanine.”
Billson nodded and resumed his pacing. “Why are cytosine and guanine paired?”
“I assume that question’s for me,” CJ grouched.
“Has anyone else responded, Mr. Caldwell?”
“Why don’t we give them a chance, sir?”
“We have two minutes left to class. Still time for a pop quiz.”
He should’ve gone into detail in the first fucking place. “They are pyrimidines and are smaller than purines. They are also single-ringed.”
“Very good, Mr. Caldwell. Your knowledge will come in handy for your science paper on DNA structure and protein synthesis. Hopefully, your fellow classmates can catch up. Ten pages, not including title page and citations. It’s due by the 20th of May.”
CJ joined in the collective groans, drowned out by the ringing bell. Scowling, he got to his feet and joined the exodus, merging into the hallway with the other students.
“CJ?” Skye called.
He backed out of the way and waited until she caught up to him.
“Hey,” she greeted, smiling. “That was totally awesome the way you knew all that stuff.”
“Thanks,” he told her. “I’ve been studying hard to catch up.”
“It shows. I’m with Jaleena. The subject of DNA isn’t my strong suit.”
“DNA as it relates to forensics is interesting to me,” CJ admitted. It played a very big part in club life and how not to get arrested. “I guess that’s why I don’t mind this.”
“I’ve heard you’re very smart, though.”
He shook his head. “Still listening to fucking rumors, Skye.”
“It isn’t a rumor if I saw your brain in action.”
“What’s up? I have to get to my next class.”
“Are you coming over to my house again tonight?”
“We have to get the project finished, so yeah.”
Her face lit up and she smiled. “Okay.”
“Anything else?”
“No. I-I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Bet.”
The cafeteria tables pushed together where he usually sat with his brothers, sister, and cousins weren’t as crowded today. Rebel, Harley, and Mattie were missing as were Axel and Rule. However, Ryan, Devon, and Rory were very much there.
Ryder and Ransom sat on the opposite end, normally reserved for the younger kids.
Between the absences and the rearranged seating, that gave CJ the option of sitting alone in the gap of empty seats or sitting in his usual spot.
He was making peace inside himself over Ryan, but those other two motherfuckers? Nope.
But then Harley walked in, which surprised CJ. He hadn’t known she was at school. However, Devon sat in her spot. That motherfucker wouldn’t move and Harley wouldn’t ask him to, so it was up to CJ.
He walked to where Harley stood in line, her gaze trained ahead as if she’d made it her mission not to look at anyone.
“Hey, bae,” he greeted.
She blinked and tipped her head up, a slow smile forming on her mouth. Without the makeup for the school play, her bruises were quite visible though fading. He didn’t want her to feel subconscious, however, so he grinned.
“Hey, CJ.”
They really didn’t need to say much more at the moment. It was lunchtime, a school meal they’d enjoyed together forever. Until recently.
She chose soup and salad over the hamburger and French fries, and bottled water over a sports drink. CJ paid for hers and his, then escorted her to the table.
Devon took one look at him and scrambled two sets over without CJ having to say a fucking word. Both him and Rory were still fucking bruised.
Once Harley sat down, CJ took his seat opposite her, which placed her next to Rory and him next to Ryan.
Rory glanced at his half-eaten burger then raised his gaze to CJ. “Can I say something, CJ?”
“You can say what the fuck you want.” CJ grabbed the mustard and ketchup packets, removed the top bun, and spread the condiments on his burger. “It doesn’t mean I’ll fucking listen.”
“I-I meant to Harley.”
Harley had set her tray in front of her, dropped onto the seat, balled her hands into fists and froze. But she gave the barest nod.
“Say what you have to say,” CJ told him, biting into his hamburger and refusing to look at Rory.
“I’m sorry, Harley,” Rory told her quietly. “It was one vid…I shouldn’t have looked at any.”
“You don’t have to answer him, Harley,” Ryan told her.
CJ stuffed fries into his mouth. “Yeah, bae. I can always kick him in his fucking throat.”
Rory refused to give up. “Harley—”
“Dude, shut the fuck up,” CJ ordered. “Your fucking voice is traumatizing her.” He shouldn’t have brought her near these fuckheads. That was on him, but he could rectify that mistake. “Let’s find another table—”
“Hey, CJ,” Skye greeted, waving at Ryan, Devon, and Rory, but ignoring Harley. “I was coming to see if you wanted to sit with me.” She pointed to a table two rows over, where an abandoned tray was next to her backpack. “We can eat lunch together and discuss our project.”
Harley’s expression didn’t change.
“You up for moving to Skye’s table or do you want me and you to find our own table.”
Harley dropped her gaze, her lashes sweeping down in an enticing arc. “I-I…we can go to her table.”
“But—”
CJ got to his feet, interrupting Skye, and waited until Harley stood, too.
At Skye’s table, CJ sat next to Harley, across from Skye. He saw her displeasure and ignored it.
“Whose your date to Prom, CJ?” Skye asked after a few minutes because CJ couldn’t think of anything to say while he was focused on Harley.
“No one.” He wasn’t sure if he’d go. Fuck, he hadn’t thought of Prom in months. “It’s April 20th, isn’t it?”
Skye nodded. “I don’t have a date either.”
Fuck, wasn’t that Axel’s birthday? And didn’t Mom and Dad plan to go to a cabin? Had anyone even mentioned Axel’s birthday? CJ certainly hadn’t heard about party plans.
“Did you hear me, CJ?” Skye asked, stealing a French fry from his tray and stuffing it into her mouth.
He frowned at her. “You don’t have a date. I heard you. Keep your fucking hands out of my food, Skye.”
“But I like French fries.”
“There’s more available.”
“If I buy them,” she retorted.
Glowering at her, he slid his tray to the middle of the table. “Take mine, but don’t do that again. Ask me first.”
Harley moved, drawing his attention to her. She’d started eating her salad in slow, mechanical movements.
“Do you want fries, Harley?” he asked her softly. “Salad is healthy and all, but you’ve always like French fries.”
Shaking her head, she laid her fork aside. “I’m not all that hungry, CJ.”
“Then why’d you come to the cafeteria?” Skye asked with a snort.
Harley shrugged. “I thought the smell of food would stir my appetite. I also thought Rebel and Mattie would be here. I should’ve stayed home like Aunt Zoann suggested.”
“Rebel’s still in LA with Mom,” CJ told her. “Mattie is probably home.”
“How long will they be there again?” Harley asked, showing more interest than she had since she came into the cafeteria.
“Uh, excuse me.”
CJ ignored Skye. “Mom said Rebel wanted a second chance at shopping on Rodeo Drive.”
Harley smiled. “Her cast was a big hindrance.” She started to stand. “I think I’ll go to the office and see if I can get a ride home.”
His next class was art. If he drove Harley to the club and they left in the next ten minutes, he’d return in time for Ms. Flotsam’s class. “I’ll call Diesel and ask him to sign you out so I can bring you home.”
“What about our project?” Skye inserted.
Harley shook her head. “It’s okay, CJ. You have things to do—”
“I can miss my next class, which is just art, and return in time for English.” CJ stood and grabbed both their trays.
“I’ll be fine.” He looked at Skye. Her expression was unreadable, so he kept his words brief.
“We’re still on for the project,” he told her, and guided Harley away before Skye answered.