Chapter 1
Present day...
Jamie met Ale and his team at the main gate of the base and escorted them in. How Alé had become the group leader, he didn't know. Didn't care either. He accepted the position and found he did all right taking charge of the group—sometimes. The airstrip lowered, and he slowed, taking it easy down the sharp incline—bypassing all the rigmarole of the locks and doors—the fancy shit Asher used for shock and awe. Alé wouldn't say it hadn't been some cool stuff when he first arrived, but now, it took too much time, and, due to the text he received, they were running out of it.
He parked his ’67 Impala beside one of the other vehicles already there and raised the ragtop to protect his interior, while the others got out. They still weren’t a cohesive team, but the more they spent time together, the better they were getting at it. Hell, at least they were all on speaking terms. When Jamie joined them, they crossed to the elevator on the left and waited. The doors opened moments later, and they stepped in.
“We’re going to the C&C level,” Jamie said. “You’re going to be privy to a shit ton of information. Don’t take it for granted.”
The old man was like a father Alé never had. He could be strict and an ass, but he also knew Jamie cared about all of the kids who came through his door at his Gang Intervention Program center. “We won’t.”
“Do you know what this is about?” Iliana glanced up at Jamie.
“Yes. It’s better if we talk about this with your whole team.” The doors opened and they stepped out onto the Command and Communication floor. The soft murmur of conversations along with the flash of images were displayed across several big screens. Every station had a person sitting at it working, while one man, Asher, if Alé had to guess, stood with his back to everyone, watching what played out before him. “We’re here.”
Asher spun. “Finally. Took you five long enough.” He strode toward a glass room to the left of where they stood.
“School happens.” Alé shrugged. “We got here as quick as we could.”
“Some shit doesn’t change.” Asher eyed Alé. “Nice school uniform, tough guy.”
Alé rolled his eyes. He hated it. There were some rules meant to be broken and not being able to do so with his clothing choice, rubbed him wrong. “So, what’s going on?”
“We’re waiting for a few more people.” Asher glanced up at the door. “Ah, there you four are. I was telling the kid, it took them long enough to get here. What’s your excuse?”
“I work at the same school?” Mateo placed his satchel on the floor before he sat at the table. “Plus, I had to wait for Noah, who was at work, here, with you.”
A satisfied smirk crossed Noah’s face. “Mattie hates being late.”
"It's my job," Mateo answered. "I can't do what needs to be done properly if I am late. It also isn't professional."
"You two are awfully quiet." Asher stared at the remaining two people Alé and his team considered bosses. AJ and Scotty.
“We were digging into that case in South America,” AJ said, giving Asher a pointed look while signing for Scotty. “Not like we had to hurry or anything since we were here already.”
“Someone mind telling us why we’re here and not meeting at the school like we’re supposed to?” Eito took a seat across from Mateo. The guy didn’t talk much, but when he did, his voice was startlingly deep and rough.
“Yeah.” Asher stood near the projection screen. “Iliana, we’re going to have to pull you from the mission.”
Alé’s attention snapped to her as she gasped. “Why? I don’t understand. I thought I was doing good.”
“It’s not you, mija,” Jamie said. “There has been an incident.”
"O-kay, what kind." Her confused expression matched those of the team that surrounded her.
“I received a call Saturday, but I couldn’t confirm all of the details until today. It appears Raul has been spotted.” Asher killed the lights and brought up a picture of a small home somewhere near a beach. It was the west coast for sure and, if Alé had to guess, near Escondido. “Raul used the net to track movement and to track families.”
A whimper escaped Iliana. “No.”
“There’s no way you could have known. None of us thought about you or your family.” Asher rubbed the back of his neck. “Your mom and dad have passed.”
“Call it what it is,” Alex said, leaning back in his chair. “The bastard murdered her family.”
“Bella too?” Iliana blinked several times. “Did he find her?”
"No." Asher shook his head. "She is with Enzo. We have them in a safe house, only me and three others know about it. Two of them are here with us."
“Technically, we know, but don’t know-know,” AJ said. “She’s in good hands though. Thomas trusts the agent with them with his life. If he didn’t think they’d be safe, they’d be here with us.”
“Plus, I have dispatched one of my men from another team to the agent as back up as well,” Asher added.
Iliana began to tremble. “So, what happens now?”
"Now, you get an all-expense paid vacation courtesy of the U.S. government. You'll be staying here with all of us. I have a room set up for you, with all of your stuff, in the family wing. There is plenty to do here, including going to the movies, swimming—all that fun stuff. It's not the same as being above ground and out in the world, however, this small sacrifice will be worth it. When this is over, you will be reunited with your sister and brother." Asher flipped the lights on. "I'm sorry, Iliana."
“Sorry?” She snorted as she swiped at the tears leaving black streaks on her cheeks from her makeup. “My family is dead because of some puta cartel leader who should have been killed weeks ago.”
“I agree with you,” Asher said. “Don’t let the rage consume you though. It’ll make you do something stupid. I don’t think your sister or Brother could handle your death on top of everything both of you have lost.”
“Yeah, whatever.” She sniffed.
Rage burned through Alé. No one deserved to have their family cut down in such a needless way. He curled his hands into fists. Raul needed to die for the shit he’d done. If it was by Alé’s hand, all the better.
“Take the time, mija. Once Raul is captured you can start over with your remaining family by your side.” Jamie squeezed Iliana shoulder.
Iliana nodded. “Sure.”
“Which brings us to another point of business. Iliana, you will never be replaced on this team. You had a very intracule part with us and we appreciate your service. Unfortunately, that means we’ve had to bring another member onto the team.” Asher opened the door to the room and a girl he hadn’t seen when they arrived, entered.
“Bronx?” Alé tilted his head. “When did you get here?”
She rubbed her arm. “This morning—er—this afternoon I guess, since I’m in a different time zone now. Tex called me while I was having lunch with my dad yesterday. Said I needed to get my ass ready to go. He arranged my plane ticket and transportation here.”
“I knew he’d relay the message,” Jamie said.
Bronx came from East L.A. like Alé and Iliana. She grew up in a chop shop with her Pops and his crew. Where Jacolbi had a biker for a dad, Bronx had a dad who disassembled and reassembled vehicles into new cars, trucks, and SUVs. She on the other hand, at a young age, learned how to clone and forge VINs to keep the cars from coming back stolen. Together Bronx and her father were gear-head millionaires. From what Alé could gather, her father brought someone else in to do the dirty work Bronx wouldn't do anymore. Why she gave up the life, he didn't know. She never talked about it, however, she and her father were still close.
“Good to have you here,” Alé said. “We’ll catch her up when we get back to the apartment.”
“Make sure you do,” Asher said. “With Raul on the run, we might have to push our timelines and make our move with Bex.”
“With a gentle touch,” AJ said at the same time Mateo said it.
Asher held up his hand. “You can only treat her with kid gloves so much. It’s time to sink or swim.”
"Ugh." AJ sighed. "Men. Sometimes you are clueless about women."
“With that, we’re done.” Asher stepped away. “Iliana if you follow me, I’ll show you to your room and then, if you want, I can have Rae show you around the base.”
Jamie went with Asher and Iliana leaving the remainder of the team with Alé in the conference room along with Mateo, Noah, AJ, and Scotty. "We should be getting back too. We'll grab dinner on the way."
“Sure.” Bronx followed them out the same way they came in.
"Remember to check-in when you arrive at the apartment. Jamie should be there within an hour or two. Also, if you see anything suspicious, call it in. We don't need any more sneak attacks," AJ said, stopping them at the elevator. "Bringing Bronx into the fold might be hard in the beginning with Bex. It appears maybe Iliana would have been our best shot, but I know you've got this."
"Thanks, mom," Jacolbi teased.
Since they’d met the small leadership crew who’d be watching their asses, AJ had taken over the wellbeing of the group. She acted like a mom, and perhaps in some weird way, her compassion was what they all needed, even if she was only a couple of years older than them. She was like the Wendy to their lost boys.
“Don’t be such an asshole.” Scotty signed while she translated. “She’s only trying to help all of you.”
“They know.” AJ touched Scotty’s arm after she signed her response. “Right, Jacolbi.”
“Yep. I just like fucking with you is all.” The guy grinned. “Hey, you think Iliana is going to be okay?”
AJ shook her head. “Not sure. Losing one’s parents is a fucked up situation for everyone involved. I hope she finds some peace, but this is her journey now. She has to navigate it and know we’re all here for her.”
Alex and Eito didn’t say much as they waited for the doors to the elevators to open. Out of all of them, they were the quietest. Ale couldn’t put his finger on why, but he wondered if it had to do with their upbringing or if they didn’t speak until they had something prolific to say. When the elevator opened, they all stepped inside.
“We’ll be seeing you.” Alé pressed the button for the garage level then stepped back.
The mood for their little group had sobered the minute Asher explained Iliana's mother and father had been killed. He had a feeling each of them would take five minutes at some point and send up a prayer to Iliana's mom and dad. Then, tomorrow, they'd return to their normal routine, though, with a different member.
Once they stepped off the elevator, they crossed the parking lot to where Alé parked his vehicle. He unlocked the doors for everyone and waited while Jacolbi, Bronx, and Alex got in back and Eito joined him up front. When they were all settled in Alé started the car and backed out of his spot. “So, do you know anything about this case?”
“Yeah, I read up on it on the flight over. Sucks for this girl, right? Father beats her. Two cartels want her and she’s all alone.” Bronx shook her head. “Sounds like a fucked situation to me.”
"You have no idea." He sped along the abandoned airstrip to the guard shack where he turned left onto the small two-lane highway. Even for the time of day, the road was empty. Come to think of it, it seemed any time of the day it was empty.
“There’s The Bitches,” Jacolbi added. “The jocks too.”
“All-Americans is what she calls them,” Alex stated. “They’re dicks.”
“So, she’s bullied as well?” Bronx grumbled. “What the fuck is wrong with people?”
Alé chuckled. “What isn’t wrong with people, is a better question. It’s all in the file.”
“You got me there.” She sighed. “So, what’s our cover? Ashamed to say it, but I think I got more caught up in the nitty-gritty than in easy parts.”
“We’re foster kids,” Jacolbi answered. “Jamie is our foster parent.”
“Uh... That’s working for such a prestigious school, Like Princess Anne High School?” Alé caught a glimpse of her confused expression in the rearview mirror.
“Yep. The principal knows we’re there and why, though the bastard will disavow anything if something should happen,” Alé answered.
“Fantastic,” she quipped. “Anything else?”
"Well, let's just say, seeing Bex and telling you about her are two different things. I hate to say sink or swim here, because it's Asher's go-to term, but your best bet is to read up on our cover then get ready for the action tomorrow. It's intense the first time you witness it." Alé merged onto the freeway, heading in the direction of downtown Virginia Beach.
“You make it seem like this is some kind of science experiment and she’s an alien. Have you guys been watching too many sci-fi movies lately?” Bronx quirked a brow. She had a crazy vibe to her. A mix of hyper and happy. Yet, the compassion in her voice when she talked about Bex endeared her to him.
Alex laughed. “I thought the same after the first incident, however, seeing how shit plays out in the school, well, it gives you a whole new appreciation for your parents and their strictness along with their demand for respect.”
“Ditto,” Eito replied.
“Why am I getting a bad feeling about this?” Bronx mumbled.
“Welcome to the team, Bronx.” Alé chuckled. “Now, who wants Catalina’s for dinner? I’m fucking starving.”
Bex touched her brow as she walked down the hall to her next class. The butterfly stitches Iliana used to close up her brow were long gone. The freshly healed mark itched sometimes. The pain was gone though. No one said anything to her after Iliana fixed her up, but then again, they never did except for Mr. Aquino, and honestly, sometimes she wanted him to shut up. It never got any better. Never would either. She was invisible when it came to the people at school and at home. Unless it was her bullies. They paid attention to her. Every day it was something else. Every day it was another opportunity to hurt her.
Until she met Iliana. Since the day in the bathroom, the girl made it a point to check on Bex, even if it was to say hi. It brightened Bex’s day, marginally. It pushed back a millimeter of her sadness. And, she was alive. The small bright spot she saw glowing above her most days while she stared up from the bleak existence of her life, became vivid and attainable. It also disgusted her. Every day she came home and found the bottle of pain pills she was supposed to take for her leg, but never did because pain equaled weakness in her father’s world, staring at her, beckoning her to take them. She’d take them all and go to sleep. But, she never did it. It should have been easy.
No one would miss her.
No one would notice she was gone.
So, why couldn’t she take the plunge?
On one hand, she'd been proud of herself for not giving into the dark abyss her life had become in the last year, on the other, she wanted it to be over. The physical and mental pain she experienced every day took a toll on her. No medication could fix her and if there was, her father forbade it. No doctor in the area would give it to her. Hell, the therapist she'd been seeing because Mr. Aquino helped her, tried to send in a prescription for her and it'd been rejected. It didn't make sense to her.
Then again, nothing made sense anymore.
Bex stepped into her English class, the only one she had with Iliana and frowned. Iliana hadn’t been there in a couple of days. Bex also couldn’t reach her by phone. It was as if the girl ghosted her, par for the course when it came to Bexley Alexandria’s life. She sat down at her desk and pulled her book from her satchel. Oh well, not the first time someone gave up on me.
As she leaned over to grab her notebook and pen, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Bex glanced up at the girl who smiled down at her. She had choppy kind of fizzy hair that came almost to her shoulders and was the color of bronze while small sections had stripes of hot pink and neon green. On her wrists were golden bangle bracelets and one red string bracelet. She stood out in a crowd, that was for sure. She also had a cute heart-shaped face and warm golden eyes.
“Hi, I’m new. Is this Mrs. Bradford’s class?” It was then Bex noticed the slip of paper in her hand with a list of classes printed on it.
Bex nodded.
“Great. I’m so lost. I thought for sure I’d miss class.” The girl dumped herself and her stuff into Iliana’s seat, and Bex wanted to protest the action. Instead, she didn’t say shit. “My name is Bronx. What’s yours?”
“B-B-Bex,” Bex said with a grimace.
“Don’t get too close to her, if you know what’s good for you.” Sasha cackled. “She’s the gutter trash of the school.”
Bex bowed her head and faced forward. It was better, like Sasha said, not to get involved with her. No one at the school might know what her father did, but she highly doubted it would matter anyway. They’d probably treat her worse. What got under her skin the most though, was the fact her father contributed more money than some of the families in the school made in ten years, but she received zero protections and zero respect.
“You know, my dad always said, it takes trash to know trash, so for you to say anything must make you trash too,” Bronx said, surprising Bex.
Sasha squealed in indignation. “How dare you speak to me like that! I’ll have you kn—”
“No one cares what you know, Spray Tan Barbie.” Bronx poked Bex in the shoulder. “Hey, will you help me get to my next class when this is over so I’m not late?”
“Look at the two budding lesbo-lovers,” Valerie sneered joining Sasha. “Isn’t it cute? Bexley’s letting some hood rat fight her battles for her now.”
"How about I beat you hood rat style?" Bronx stood up, surprising Bex. It didn't make sense. No one stood up against those bitches for her. Iliana had told Bex to ignore them, like she hadn't been trying to the whole four years she'd been in school with them. Bronx though, she went at Sasha head-on and it kind of made Bex tingly—for not the right reasons.
“All right class, settle down, please.” Mrs. Bradford closed the door behind her as she entered the room. “I was informed we have a new student today.”
Bronx smirked at Sasha before she strode toward the front of the classroom. “Bronx Lewis. Good to meet ya.” She handed the slip of paper she’d been holding to the teacher. “Principal said I need your John Hancock on the line next to your class.”
Mrs. Bradford stared up at the girl for a moment then took Bronx's schedule and signed it. "We're in the middle of Macbeth. I suggest you talk with your classmates to get caught up."
“Oh, Shakespeare. Tingly.” Bronx retrieved her paper and sauntered back to her seat. “Hey, Mrs. Bradford, so you know, I’m partial to the Sonnets.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Bradford’s lips twitched, and her eyes narrowed. She’d always been a bit condescending when it came to the students. She had a superiority complex or maybe a Napoleonic complex because she was short? Bex didn’t know, but the woman could be downright mean when she wanted to be. “Let me guess, your favorite is, Sonnet number 208?”
Bronx nudged Bex and scrunched up her face before pointing at the teacher. “Is she for—Excuse me? Are you for real? There are one hundred and fifty-one Sonnets. I happen to like number 88 myself.”
Mrs. Bradford blanched then cleared her throat. “Well then, recite it for us. Since it’s your favorite.”
“Sure thing.” Bronx stood. “Now, I’m no Sir Patrick Stewart, or anything but I’ve got this.” She winked at Bex then exhaled slowly. She clenched her hands at her chest and released a mournful sound. It was all very dramatic. “When thou shalt be disposed to set me light, and place my merit in the eye of scorn, Upon thy side, against myself I'll fight—”
“Very well, Miss Lewis, you’ve proved your point.” Mrs. Bradford stepped forward with her book in hand. “Now, let’s return to our lesson, shall we?”
“Awe,” Bronx frowned, “I was getting to the good part.”
"Well, at least she's a learned hood rat." Sasha snickered.
The class erupted in laughter and Mrs. Bradford sighed. “Miss Torres.”
"Well, at least we all know money doesn't cure being a frigid bitch." Bronx blew her a kiss. "Better catch it, so it doesn't go to waste. It's going to have to last until your remove the stick from your ass and finally get laid."
“Miss Torres and Miss Lewis, outside please.”
Bronx grabbed her things then glanced at Bex. “Don’t worry, I’ve read Macbeth three times. I know what’s going to happen. If you need any help, you know where to find me.”
Bex blinked. “Uh... O-Okay.”
For the rest of the class, Bex kept her eyes pinned on the words blurring on the page, not daring to even lift them for a second. She feared, if she did, the rest of the bitch squad would be staring daggers through her. She didn't know Bronx, but, somehow, her actions would mean retaliation against Bex. If she took the time to think about it, she'd have to ask some inane questions, like how could any of what she'd experienced in the last couple of weeks be coincidence? Between the incident with those men who tried to grab her on the sidewalk outside of school, to Iliana, the Yakuza kid in her history class with Mr. Aquino, to Bronx now. Not even a paranoid person would be questioning their sanity with those glaring factoids.
When the bell rang, she blew out a breath and gathered her things. One more class down. At least she'd have a break to eat some lunch. She waited for the majority of the class to leave before she stood and exited the room. School for her was always a chore. Not that she didn't like it, she did. Math was her favorite subject, but Language Arts and English, she could nope the heck out of those classes. It meant reading out loud and giving presentations with words she couldn't half-spit out.
The one time Mrs. Pickens forced her to give a little speech, it made her the laughing stalking of the class for the rest of the year. And, when her teacher told her father she needed speech therapy, he beat Bex bloody then he got the teacher fired and caused the teacher such grief she couldn’t find a job—or at least it’d been what her father told her. If there was one thing about her father, he didn’t lie about stuff. So, the school system kind of passed her through. She didn’t get bad grades by far, she had some of the best, but when it came to social or group projects, she received an automatic A and free time away from the classroom.
Her father's heavy-handed ways complicated school life for Bex, so she kept to herself. To have three people in a week and a half trying to be friendly to her, freaked her out. What could they possibly want with her? She was a nobody. She was an incomplete person. She had the scars and the metal attachment to prove it.
Bex pushed into the cafeteria and went straight to the lunch line. The school’s food was basic, but good. It beat eating ramen every night or cups of noodles. Since her ‘nanny’ disappeared, her money situation had grown tighter. Even her guards weren’t buying her groceries like they used to. She suspected in the last couple of months, she’d lost about ten pounds and went to bed hungry more than once. Didn’t she sound like a sad sack? Breakfast and lunch were her only meals... She should be grateful she got anything. She should be happy she was still alive.
Yet, she wasn’t.
Bex wanted to die.
Her life was a living hell. No, worse than that. It was Dante’s Inferno.
She grabbed the burger, fries, cup of applesauce and made her way to the drink case to snatch an iced coffee out of the cooler. After entering her number into the touchscreen, she headed for the empty table at the back of the room, away from everyone else. While some schools had 'never eat alone,' programs, Princess Anne didn't have rules when it came to lunch. It was the one time during the day when they were free to be themselves.
“You guys have a shitty Principal,” Bronx said, startling Bex as she opened her coffee.
“Uh?” Bex shoved her hands into her lap and lowered her head.
“You pissed I caused a scene? Cause, I didn’t do it for you. That twat needed to be put in her place.” Bronx threw her bag up onto the table next to her lunch tray.
“N-no. N-not p-pissed.” She swallowed hard. “You s-shouldn’t s-sit with me.”
“Oh? Really? Is it that bitch from English?”
Bex rolled her shoulder.
“So it is. Okay. Well, she can get fucked by a spiny cactus for all I care.” Bronx tore into her burger. “Woah, okay, not what I was expecting. This is good.” She took another bite, then tapped Bex’s tray. “You going to eat?”
She was starving. Bex grabbed her burger and took a bite. “You like S-Shakespeare?”
“Yes!” She tipped Bex’s chin up and a zing of electricity shot through her. “I like it better when you look at me when we talk. I can connect that way.”
Bex cut her eyes toward the windows overlooking the school. “W-why?”
“Why what?”
“S-Shakespeare.” She took another bite of her burger and felt the pangs of hunger dissipate.
“Ah, now you’re prying.” Bronx smiled. “I’ll only tell you if you keep talking to me.”
She sighed. What the heck was the girl’s deal? She’d never seen someone like Bronx before. Everyone in Bex’s life had been content to allow her to be by herself. This girl, however, came in and demolished everything with a kind smile and a hyper vibe about her. “F-fine.”
“You don’t talk much because of your stutter, huh?” Bronx frowned.
Heat filled Bex’s cheeks. She grabbed her tray and went to stand. She didn’t need someone else making fun of her because of her speech impediment. Nor did she want the girl’s pity either. She was doing just fine, stutter and all.
“Wait.” Bronx touched her arm, stopping Bex. Her features softened and a bit of embarrassment colored her cheeks. “I didn’t mean it that way. Sometimes my brain to mouth coordination is off.”
“I d-don’t want p-pity.”
“Nah, you don’t.” The girl grinned at her, patting the table. “Wouldn’t give none anyway. I’m missing the ability to pity gene.”
The corner of Bex’s lips twitched.
“Ah! That was almost a smile. Amazing.” Bronx motioned to the chair. “Sit, eat your lunch. You could put on a little weight.”
Bex grew self-conscious at Bronx’s astuteness. If she could see it, everyone could, which meant, again, because of her father, no one would help her. “S-Shakespeare.”
"Right. Shakespeare." Bronx popped a fry into her mouth and moaned. "My God, the food. I thought this would be a shit cafeteria, for real." She rubbed her hands together. "Anyway, when I was younger my Pops, between reading me repair manuals for different types of vehicles, would read me, Shakespeare. He said if I wanted a well-rounded education, I should learn to be sophisticated while also picking up a trade. The Sonnets were my favorites of Shakespeare's works. Followed by Midsummer's Night Dream, Romeo and Juliet, and Macbeth. Hamlet's in the top whatever too, but—" She shrugged. "I can also rebuild a '67 Camaro, a '71 Mustang, and a '73 Maverick with a blindfold on."
Bex blinked. “What?” The girl was going a mile a minute causing her head to spin with the information overload.
Bronx’s grin illuminated her features in such a way, it stole Bex’s ability to breathe. She hadn’t felt that twinge of pleasure or whatever the chemical reaction was called. It started in her heart and settled low within her. “I have one of those eidetic memories. So, all I have to do is see something once and I recall it all from memory.”
“Interesting.” Bex ate one of her fries after realizing she’d been so engrossed in what Bronx said, she’d eaten all of her burger. “I’m g-good with numbers.”
“Oh yeah? Excellent. Who needs words when numbers rule the world, amirite?” Bronx chuckled. “You’re cool people, B-Bex.”
The teasing tone of Bronx’s voice brought forth a real smile from Bex, something she hadn’t done since the video was made. “N-not really.”
“Sure you are. You haven’t found the right people to hang with. Now, you have me at your back.”
“T-thanks.” The bell rang for their next class and Bex frowned. She’d been so busy listening to Bronx talk, she hadn’t finished all of her food. She grabbed her drink and the cup of applesauce and threw them in her bag before standing. “History.”
“Chemistry.” Bronx frowned. “Blah. Hey, if you want to hang after school, I have History last period.”
“Can’t.” Bex frowned. “Work.”
“Oh, you’re a working girl. Gotta make that change.” Bronx rubbed her fingers together. “Well, all the same, if you ever want to hang, I’m your girl.”
She gave a curt nod.
“See ya, B-Bex.”
Yeah, see you. Bex scrubbed her forehead and headed for Mr. Aquino’s classroom. At least he’d allow her to finish her lunch. Of all her teacher’s she wished she could have been his kid. He was stern, but super nice and very helpful. He also had a very handsome husband. Though, the man did intimidate her. Something told her, he didn’t mess around. He also seemed to see everything in a room and could probably recite every conversation around him. Though she never had the chance to ask Mr. Aquino or his husband what R.O.O.T. was, or what they did, due to The Bitches, Noah's job had to be super important.
She entered the classroom which was only a few feet from the cafeteria and found the place empty, allowing her a minute to gather herself after the whirlwind her lunch turned into. Mr. Aquino glanced up and smiled at her, the one that said he understood her and was there for her when she needed him. She waved and headed to her desk. Unlike the other teachers who'd been content to let her do what she wanted, he encouraged her and engaged her. He made learning fun and she wished she could spend the whole day with him. Although, when she thought about it, it was a bit creepy for her to be that obsessed with a teacher at least twice as old as her and married to a guy who could more than likely end her.
What can I say, I live on the edge. She shook off the thought. No, she didn't. Her life was already on edge and she hated it.
“Bexley?” Mr. Aquino frowned. “Sorry. Bex. I need your help. Can you run to the teacher’s supply room and grab me the artifact box?” The way he said, “artifact box,” changed the expression on his face and his eyes lit up in a way she never understood. It was as if he was excited and something else she couldn’t describe.
“S-sure.”
“Thank you.” He stood and began writing on the board. “I had a meeting at lunch, and I didn’t have time to make the trip.”
The way he talked to her sometimes, it was normal as though they'd been friends for years and were equals when they weren't even close to being anything. She stepped out of the class, grateful no one, more specifically Sasha, Valerie, or Marybeth, had been lurking in the hallway. She walked in the opposite direction of the cafeteria toward the library and turned left down the hall where the teacher supply room was located. She inhaled as the door closed behind her. It was quiet in there. Empty. She could curl up in a corner and sleep without worry and without being found by The Bitches.
Bex crossed to Mr. Aquino station and picked up the artifact box. She didn't know where he bought it, or how he was able to obtain some of the relics he did, but every week, he brought something in from whatever period they were studying. It was part of their interactive curriculum the school prided itself on. As she turned to walk out, she stopped mid-stride.
“Well, well, well,” Sasha said. “Look what scurried out of the walls.”
“I see a rat,” Valerie said. “Should we kill it?”
Bex swallowed hard. Her hands trembled. Everything had gone too well. Her lunch had been fun. English, even though she didn’t participate, was nice though tense. Of course, now, the black clouds returned, and the rain from The Bitches’ bullshit would begin again. Couldn’t she, for one day, just pretend her life wasn’t miserable and have a not so normal day? Was she always destined to be someone’s punching bag? Who had she scorned in a previous life, to end up in such a shit one?
“Marybeth hasn’t said we can’t.” Sasha crossed her arms, tilting her head. “Marybeth?”
“First.” Marybeth snatched the box out of Bex’s hands. “Sasha, take this to Mr. Aquino and tell him poor, little Bexley is sick.”
“With pleasure.” Sasha giggled. “Don’t forget to take pictures.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Marybeth replied.
When the door closed once more, Valerie shoved Bex to the floor, her go-to method of getting the upper hand in any situation dealing with Bex. It wasn't like she wanted to fall, but again, rehab to learn how to use her leg and regain her balance was done on her own, in her dinky apartment. She hadn't even had the leg adjusted since she got it. Not like she could ask her father to help her out in that department either.
“What makes you think you can have any friends in this school, more specifically a lesbo-lover.” The vicious sneer Marybeth’s face didn’t scare her. She’d seen worse from her father.
“I d-don’t have f-f-friends.” Bex sat up.
“That’s right, you don’t.” Marybeth pressed the spike of her heel to Bex’s chest, knocking her backward. “You’d do well to remember your place. This is our school. Not yours Bexley.”
“No one ever saves trash,” Valerie added. “Because you’re not worth it.”
Bex snorted to herself. They didn’t have to remind her of her place. Hell, they showed her the ‘error,’ of her ways as often as possible. Today, like every other day, was no exception. “W-What d-d-do you w-want?”
Valerie cackled before crouching down in front of Bex. “For you to die already.”
