Survival at Ravens Ridge

1. Shane

Shane

Freshman Year

Ifind that most days are better spent hiding under the bleachers with the troublemakers, than trying to live up to the impossible standards of the adults in my life. I never meet them anyway, so why bother?

I take a deep inhale from the joint, then hold it out to Austin.

He shakes his head. “Coach Reynolds is on my ass the way it is. Bombing a drug screen is the last thing I need.”

Tanner takes it from me instead. “Fuck Reynolds. He’s a prick anyway.”

“Easy for you to say.” Austin shoves him over. “If he cuts you, he’ll blow our shot at state next year.”

Our high school treats their soccer team like we’re going after the goddamn world cup. I’ve played for as long as I can remember, and even I think it’s too much.

There are two distinct groups on the team. The golden boys, who’re no doubt in their fifth period classes right now listening to every word the teacher says.

And then there are the five or six of us that hang out down here during our free period, which isn’t actually free at all. We’re all supposed to be in the library, studying or reading or what the fuck ever.

The bell rings, and Tanner stubs out the joint before pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his backpack and sticking the rest of it in.

The group of us head back toward the building, walking across the football field.

Tanner playfully shoves Austin over. “You know if you’re so worried about being cut, maybe don’t pass the ball to the other team.”

“Fuck off!” Austin shoves him back.

Tanner grabs his arm, pulls him closer, and puts him in a headlock.

Austin jerks before jabbing him in the side. Tanner laughs, stepping back.

Then he shoves me.

I stumble to the side. “Dude, don’t.”

“Oh, come on! You afraid I might kick your ass?” he teases, shoving me again.

“Seriously, Tanner. Fucking quit.”

He laughs and swings, chuckling.

My throat squeezes as a fist moves toward me, and I stop breathing for a second.

It flies in front of my face, not actually connecting, and everything goes a little foggy.

Blood whooshes in my ears.

Grabbing his wrist, I swing him around and grip his head.

His face connects with my knee.

Crunch!

“What the fuck!” he shrieks, stepping back to hold his face as blood runs down his hands.

That voice reverberates in my head until it’s damn near the only thing I can hear. Come on you fucking pussy!

My fist flies into his stomach.

Get up and fight like a man!

He coughs and narrows his eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck—

I charge, my shoulder connecting with his gut, and take him to the ground.

He rolls us, managing to get on top.

My heart pounds against my sternum, and my fists tingle to pound into his face.

My eyes pinch closed as a his fist connects with my mouth.

The familiar taste of copper paints my tongue.

Not this fucking time. I scream, flipping him onto his back and rain down on him with my knuckles.

I keep swinging even as I’m ripped backward. It takes a few moments before I even realize I’ve been pulled away. Tanner stands, blood dripping from his chin as I’m shoved away.

“My office. Now!” Mr. Green, the principal shouts.

I snap back to reality.

Shit.

Standing there with my mouth open as I try to catch my breath, the awareness of just how truly fucked I am washes over me.

“What the fuck, man?” Austin murmurs as he walks past me.

I swallow and head back toward the building, readying myself for the shitstorm I know is about to hit.

It’s no surprise to me when Mr. Green tells me to take a seat in one of the chairs outside his office while he calls my mother. They really ought to engrave my name on it at this point.

Tanner glares at me when he comes out of the nurse’s office with an ice pack on his swollen face. He does not choose the chair next to me, instead he sits on the ground on the other side of the small main office.

I could apologize. He’d get over it. But I fucking told him to stop. So, fuck him. He does this all the goddamned time.

So, I don’t say a word. I just stare straight ahead at the wall.

“Shane! Are you okay?” A familiar small bright voice chirps as the door opens. My sister rushes in, plopping down beside me and taking my face in her hands.

“I’m fine. Why are you here?”

She’s still in junior high, which is on the other side of the football field. Seventh graders aren’t allowed in the high school building during school hours.

“A bunch of kids saw what happened. Everyone was talking about it. They said you got in a fight. I wanted to make sure you were okay!”

Her blonde curls are pulled up on top of her head except for the couple of pieces that have fallen into her face.

Mom spends an annoying amount of time on her hair every morning, and by the end of the day it always ends up looking like she rolled around in a bin of staticky balloons.

Mom makes her snarky comments about it every day when she picks us up, and Ash pretends she doesn’t hear her.

“I’m good. It was just a misunderstanding. You need to get back across the field before someone sees you. Mom’s on her way.”

She winces, then her brows pinch and her eyes turn sad. “Are you gonna be in trouble?”

I shrug. “Nah. I’ll probably be grounded for a while, but what else is new. “

She nods, then throws her arms around my neck before zipping back out of the office.

Just in time too, because not even five minutes later, the door opens followed by the sound of my mom’s heels clicking against the flooring.

She doesn’t speak to me as she marches past on her way to Mr. Green’s office.

I wouldn’t have even known she saw me at all if it hadn’t been for the brief side-eye she shot my way.

Of course, no one could miss her presence.

Her fancy-ass perfume is strong enough to choke anyone in a ten-foot radius.

Slumping in the chair, I let my head rest on the wall behind me and close my eyes. At least we smoked first. This would all be a lot less bearable if I weren’t riding a very steady high right now. It kicked in as I was walking back to the office.

Perfect really. Instead of panicked anxiety with each step, my shoulders relaxed, and I cared a little less about the impending doom I was walking into.

Mr. Green’s door opens, and he peeks his head out, his lips a tight line beneath that stupid, too-thick gray mustache. “Mr. Michaels.”

I slowly rise, taking a deep breath and groaning as I stand, and mosey toward him.

As I enter the room, he rolls his eyes and gestures to the chair beside my mother. “By all means, take your sweet time.”

I flop down beside her, but she doesn’t even glance my way, just shakes her head and stares forward at the dark wood desk littered with paperwork and decorated with pictures of his average-looking wife and perfect smiling children.

“Shane, I’ve spoken with your mother, and we both agree that something has to give. You’ve been in my office thirty-two times this school year, and there’s still two weeks left. Not to mention all of the detentions you’ve received from your teachers.”

I slide down in the seat and cross my arms. It’s not my fault the other faculty sends me to him every time I breathe the wrong way.

I mean the fights I get, but a few weeks ago my English teacher sent me in because I told her I didn’t think we should be required to read Hemingway because any dipshit with a brain between their ears should know the guy was a misogynistic prick.

Apparently, that was disrespectful.

My gran’s a reader, and she collects all those classics. When Ash and I visit, Gran always has us pick a book to read for the summer.

Hemingway is not in her collection.

“After discussing it, I’m willing to let you finish the next two weeks through in-school suspension, but next school year, you will not be welcomed back.”

My brows pinch, and I sit up. “What?”

“Your mother and I agree that maybe a change in environment would be best for you. You’re obviously not thriving here, and I really don’t know what else we can do for you.”

“You can’t do that. It’s a public school.”

“Yes. But I could expel you and force you to retake your freshman year. This is what I’m willing to offer instead.”

I whip my head. “Mom! Ash and I can’t just switch schools. She has friends here, and I have soccer.”

“Ash isn’t switching schools. We can talk about this at home.”

I look back at Mr. Green with my mouth still hanging open, realizing this isn’t really a discussion.

Why am I even here if they’ve already made up their minds?

I scoff, standing from my seat and storming out of the room.

My mother follows out shortly after, and neither of us breathes a word to the other all the way home.

I spend the majority of my time in my room anyway, but the second we pull up at the house, I can’t seem to get there fast enough, ripping open the door to her Range Rover and darting out of the car.

I’m not sure how far behind she is as I slam the door to the garage behind me and charge through the house, not caring a bit that my shoes are still on, or that I might be tracking shit onto her perfect white carpet as I make my way down the hall to my room.

The artwork on the wall rattles as I throw my door shut.

Fuck this place.

I don’t fucking like that school anyway.

But she better not send me to that snooty-ass private school Jess’s mom wanted her to go to when she moved here. There’s not a chance in hell I’m wearing those dumb khakis and a fucking blazer to school every day.

My aggravation pulses through my limbs with a life of its own, so I snatch up the guitar in the corner and flop down in front of my bed. All of that pressure building in my chest races to my fingertips, pouring itself out with every strum. The strings absorb it, and my shoulders start to relax.

Aside from Ash knocking on my door when she gets home from school, no one bothers me for the rest of the evening until Denny gets off work at eight. He taps on the door twice like he always does before cracking it open.

Chestnut hair sprinkled with gray and dark-rimmed glasses appear. “Hey, bud. Can you come talk to me and your mom for a second?”

I nod, put down my guitar, and stand from the floor. Denny gives me a sad smile before turning to the living room. When I enter the room, he sits on the couch beside my mother still in his work clothes and gestures for me to sit on the love seat across from them.

“Look, I know I fucked up today, okay? But I really don’t want to switch to private school. I’ll go back and talk to Mr. Green. I’ll keep my head down, I swear.”

Neither of them says anything at first. They just glance at one another then back to me.

“We both know that’s not true. You’ve had plenty of chances,” my mom bites. She doesn’t even seem that mad, though. Just inconvenienced.

“It is! Please, just don’t send me there.”

She lifts a brow, void of all emotion. “We’re not.”

Denny can’t even look at me.

My mom crosses her legs and lifts her chin. “We think it’s in your best interest to go live with your dad for a while.”

My stomach bottoms out, and I think all the blood in my body drains to my toes.

“It’s obvious you’re not happy here, and it’s not fair to the girls that we spend all of our time dealing with your bullshit.”

My brows draw together.

In what world do they spend any of their time dealing with my bullshit?

Sure, she’s had to pick me up a few times and answer when Mr. Green calls, but other than that, I stay in my room.

She doesn’t even speak to me most days unless I’ve been in trouble.

And Denny works late most of the time. He’s nice I guess, but we don’t really interact much unless he needs me to help him with something around the house.

“Mom—”

She throws up a hand. “It’s been decided. When you and your sister head to Ravens Ridge for your summer visit, you’ll take your things with you. Maybe a male authority will be better for you since you sure as hell don’t respect me.”

I shake my head, a steady thrum starting in the back of my head. “No. No—Mom. Please. I swear. I’ll do better.”

She doesn’t respond, just stares at me with tight lips as my own ribs threaten to suffocate me.

A humorless laugh leaves my lips. “Fuck it. I’ll go to the private school. I’ll wear the khakis and kiss ass with the snobby rich kids. Whatever you want! Just… please…”

Denny still can’t meet my eyes.

“No. You’re his problem now.” She stands and stalks out of the room.

Denny finally glances up at me, offering nothing but a sad smile before getting up to follow her.

And I’m left to sit on the couch with my heart in my throat while I try to hold back tears.