Summery: This is your average high-school story filled with fluff, fast cars, clichés, cliques, whores, heroines, heroin, hot guys, love-hate relationships and possibly, if you're lucky, an underlying moral about being true to yourself or some shit. You already know the plot; it's been used so many times, why bother explaining?
Warning: There's probably going to be bad language. I'm sorry. I find it impossible to keep it clean. My friends and I swear heaps when we talk so a conversation doesn't look normal to me unless there are naughty words involved. I write it as I live it.
There will also be horribly clichéd moments. If that's not what you're looking for leave now and never return. God knows why you clicked on this link in the first place because what else would you expect in a high-school story?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the stuff that is my own.
S µ м m ε ® Ŕ α ϊ η
Nobody's family can hang out the sign: "Nothing the matter here."
Chinese Proverb
Johnny seemed to spend his life in a perpetually grounded state. This didn't stop him from doing what he did best i.e. partying/drinking/smoking pot, but it did make it slightly more difficult. For instance, he was supposed to be seeing a movie in town with Rei and Kai in like, fifteen minutes, but his parents had grounded him for the entire summer simply because he had failed last year and the school was making him repeat. So now he was stuck with the problem of sneaking out every time he wanted to hang with his mates.
He had managed to make it as far as the door without his mum noticing, but as he was turning the doorhandle she came bustling in from the laundry with a large basket of clothes in her arms. Yanking his hand away from the door he tried to look innocent, which would've failed if his mother had actually looked at him, but she was too busy and merely shoved the basket into his empty hands and gave him a preoccupied smile saying, "Put these away in your room Johnny, they're all clean. And after that I need you to help me hang the new curtains in the living room, it's a two-person job. Quickly now."
Groaning in frustration the redhead desperately tried to think of an excuse not to help, but his mother was already wandering away tidying things as she went. Her whole life revolved around the pristine townhouse and she was always cleaning or redecorating.
Johnny moodily climbed the stairs to his room, but someone was sitting on the last step. It was his younger sister Misha. The two looked fairly similar, red hair (although hers was curly) with grey-blue eyes and charming but cheeky smiles. It was only when the girl stood up that you could see the real difference. Even standing two steps above him she barely reached his nose.
The two Scottish children eyed each other for a moment. Johnny loved his sister in an I'll-never-show-it-but-if-you-try-and-touch-her-I-will-rip-your-guts-out-and-drown-you-in-the-nearest-bathtub-then-bring-you-back-to-life-and-do-it-again kind of way. Basically he thought she was a little weird, but hey, she was family. Raising an eyebrow he asked gruffly, "What do you want?"
A grin lit up Misha's face and all at once Johnny felt worried. Anything that made his sister smile like that usually ended up being bad news for him. Giving a small laugh at her brother's expression Misha quickly explained, "Don't worry! This isn't about what I want; it's about what you want!"
Johnny eyed her suspiciously and asked, "And what do I want?"
Misha laughed again and said, "You want to go to the cinema with Rei and Kai, but you can't because you're grounded."
His brow furrowed, "How do you know that?"
"A good Misha never reveals her secrets," scolded the small girl, then continued, "Anyway, doesn't matter because I'm obviously right and I can get you there if you're willing to pay."
"Oh yeah? Pay for what?"
"My ticket you idiot! What else? And I'm choosing the movie as well. Plus you gotta get snacks, because well… because you can't watch a movie without snacks," she replied in a matter-of-fact fashion.
"No deal," said Johnny shortly, and pushed past her and kept walking towards his room.
"But Johnny!" came the protests from behind him as Misha followed.
Johnny reached his room and whirled around to face her, "No buts. I'd rather not go at all than take you with me."
Misha's face darkened and she snapped, "Really feeling the love here."
"Uhuh? Is that so? Well I'd really love for you to fuck off," and he slammed the door shut in her face.
Misha growled at the wooden door as if it was the source of all her problems. Damnit! She really wanted to see Happy Feet, but she was totally broke and her parent's wouldn't pay her allowance early. They claimed it was to teach her about economical responsibility or some shit. Like she cared. She just wanted to see Happy Feet. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. So when the going gets tough, the smart ones use blackmail.
"I know about the garage roof," she said just loud enough that Johnny would hear in his room.
A few seconds later the door swung open revealing a fuming Johnny. Bingo.
"How the hell do you… you wouldn't dare… ah, fuck it," he muttered and settled for glaring at her.
Misha smiled sweetly, knowing that she had won this round and asked, "Shall we go?"
Johnny grabbed his wallet and jacket and stormed past her, stopping only for a second to demand, "You better have a damn good excuse to get me outta here. And if I take you then not a word to mum or dad about it – ever."
"Scouts honour," mocked Misha, giving him a fake salute.
Johnny growled – a mannerism that was common among the McGregor children – and stalked off down the stairs.
Their mother materialised behind them just as they were walking out the door.
"Johnny McGregor! Stop right there - you're grounded! And you're supposed to be helping me hang the curtains," she began but was interrupted by Misha.
"Sorry mum, I asked if he'd take me to the library so I can study with Blaire. I thought maybe he could help us get some extra preparation done before the beginning of the school year considering he's already done it once. I hope that's alright."
Johnny had to admit it was a fairly good excuse. Blaire was always studying, she did way too much of it in his opinion, but whatever, his mother knew that so she'd have no reason to doubt it. Other than the fact that he would never agree to such a proposition, but what did his parent's know about him?
Mrs McGregor looked slightly confused and stammered, "Well… well I guess that's alright…"
Misha didn't let her finish the sentence before she was pushing Johnny out the door yelling, "Thanks mum! We're taking the car!"
Misha grinned as she sat in the passenger seat on the short drive into town listening to Sum 41. That had been way too easy! Now she got to see Happy Feet! She wasn't to sure what Johnny would think of her choice of film, but it didn't really matter.
As if reading her thoughts the male beside her asked inquisitively, "What do you want to see then?"
Misha was prepared for this and replied, "Not a chance Johnny boy. You'll have to wait until we buy the tickets to find out; you ain't getting out of this one."
Misha grinned inwardly as her brother frowned. She loved him, but she always reckoned he was a bit of an idiot because let his emotions run things rather than thinking things through logically. It was a small town and only four films were showing at the moment: The Queen, Blood Diamond, Charlotte's Web and Happy Feet. No one in their right mind would want to see a film about the Queen of England, and she hated Dakota Fanning and Leonardo DiCaprio so that only left one choice. But Johnny wouldn't figure that out, he'd be too busy being annoyed at her for not telling him straight off.
Johnny was a year older than her, but he was going to be in the same grade this year because he had failed and was being held back. Misha reckoned the reason was a mixture between the fact that he spent all his time partying/drinking/smoking pot and all the brain cells he must've lost in the process of doing so. Yep, she loved him – but he was an idiot. What other kind of person grew marijuana on the garage roof?
Green eyes surveyed the room indifferently. It was small, plain and had an unlived air to it. Bed, wardrobe, mirror, desk. No posters, no photos, no clothes on the floor, no signs of inhabitation. And that was just fine with her, thought the owner of the green eyes as she slung her travel worn duffel bag to the ground. It wasn't like any of the other places she had lived had ever felt 'homely' and she didn't intend to make this 'home' any different.
She flopped down on the bed and stared around. Someone had put a vase of yellow flowers on the desk to try and cheer things up. Why the fuck would they bother doing that? They'd probably be dead in three days and she'd just have to chuck them out anyway. Flowers were temporary, they were a testimony to her life – everything was temporary.
Rolling over so she wouldn't have to face the disgustingly cheerful daisies, she stared at the blank wall instead. It was painted plain beige and was as boring as having English last on a Friday afternoon. The whole effing room was boring.
She contemplated her situation. She was participating in a homestay with the Kingstons. With her parents' work involving a lot of moving around (about every six months or so) her education had been very scratchy and a lot of the time she didn't even attend school. Now with her final two years coming up she was getting her IB diploma and she needed to be in one place long enough to complete all the work. So her parents had shipped her off to this godforsaken place and that was that, there was nothing she could do about it.
Feeling suddenly restless she got up off the bed and opened her bag. There wasn't much: some clothes, a camera and a pile of books. Her clothes, which consisted solely of jeans and a few tops and jackets, she hung up in her wardrobe. The camera she placed in the draw of the desk and the books she stacked neatly at the bottom of the wardrobe.
She paused briefly then to check her appearance in the full-length mirror, she was a bit of a tomboy but she was also just as vain, in her own manner, as any other girl. She adjusted the green bandana that sat neatly on her wavy, brown hair. She grimaced when she saw the travel creases on her black top and half-heartedly tugged down on her shirt in an attempt to get rid of them. It didn't work but she didn't really care; wasn't like she was trying to impress anyone. Her jeans were fine and her tattered runners never left her, despite the fact they were nearly falling apart. On her hands she had her trademark fingerless gloves. They were black leather and she had had them so long that they were worn thin and soft and fitted snugly.
She grabbed some cash from her bag and stuffed it in her pockets. Her parents weren't that rich and had spent most of their money sending her here. She had just enough to buy stuff like her school uniform and her textbooks and then she was going to have to find a job.
Taking one last look around her characterless room she opened the door and stepped out into the silent hallway.
The Kingston's house was huge. It was a double story building, but there were extra rooms in the attic and basement as well. Her room was in the attic and had originally been a storage room, but they had cleaned it out for her. There were three other rooms up there. One was a bathroom, and the other two were bedrooms which belonged to the eldest son Darien, who went to college, and the second eldest Brooklyn, who was in her year at school.
Descending the staircase she mentally counted the people who inhabited the second floor: Rosa, the youngest child and only girl, and Bobby and Davy the twin boys who were twelve if she remembered correctly. Again there were four rooms – a bathroom and three bedrooms (one for each child) – and again it was silent. The twins were at their swimming lessons and Rosa had tagged along.
She had quickly learned that the family led busy lives as she had only just walked in the door when Monique (the mother) had appeared dragging along two protesting identical boys and a darling, angel-faced girl. Monique had apologised profusely for having to leave just as she arrived and then was out the door before the brunette could reply. Charles (the father, who had collected her from the airport) had carried her bag inside, given her a quick verbal description of the layout of the house and then had also apologised and left for a business meeting telling her that if she needed anything she should just ask Brooklyn or Darien.
Realising that Charles hadn't actually told her where her room was she had sought out one of the siblings and found the eldest just about to leave on a date with his girlfriend. Darien had a charming smile and acted like a real gentleman, taking her bag and carrying it upstairs for her. He had shown her the bathroom and was about to give her a tour of the rest of the house when his girlfriend had appeared looking not so impressed about being left to wait. Flashing a quick smile he had apologised and left with his girlfriend, saying she'd probably find Brooklyn in the basement.
She descended to the ground floor, where the kitchen, lounge room, master bedroom and dining room were situated and then went down the final flight of stairs and entered the basement. This was like the kids' zone. There was a workout room for the older guys, a room filled with beanbags, a computer and toys for the younger kids to play their games and the final room had a massive widescreen TV, Xbox and three couches arranged in a horseshoe for generally chilling and watching movies and stuff. It was in this room that the brunette discovered the final member of the Kingston family.
Surprise, surprise Brooklyn also had ginger hair. He was lounging on one of the couches and clutched in his hand was a wireless Xbox controller which his fingers were skilfully manipulating. Out of the surround sound system came the loud sound of gunfire and people dying. His startlingly blue eyes flicked from the screen to her face and then back to the screen again and he muttered her name, "Keira."
Realising that was as much acknowledgement as she could expect the brunette rolled her eyes and said shortly, "I'm going out."
The boy didn't even look at her, merely saying, "You can't."
Raising an eyebrow she enquired, "Why not?"
Still his eyes remained focused on the screen as he replied, "You're not allowed to go unless one of us comes with you, 'rents don't want you getting lost."
Getting impatient she snapped, "I not gonna bloody well get lost."
When she got pissed her voice took on a distinctly British lilt, although at most other times it maintained a soft South African sound. That combined with her swearing startled him and his eyes shot to her face again in surprise. Suddenly the sound of someone screaming echoed around the room and he yelled, "Shit!" and his focus was back on the screen. Thumbs moving furiously he muttered, "You don't know where anything is though."
"That's the whole point," she said and turned to leave.
"Wait!" he said, still playing his game, "You can't go by yourself."
She watched a few seconds to see if he was going to do anything, but he just stared at the screen. Desperate to just go she pointed out, "If it bothers you so much then come with me already."
"Can't," was the gruff response.
She sighed mentally – boys and their toys. She started to walk out the door saying, "Then I'm going alone,"
"No you're not," he said, gaze flickering in between her and the game.
"Rules were meant to be broken Brooklyn, learn to live a little," she called over her shoulder and climbed the stairs.
"Fuck," he swore and paused the game, jumping up from the couch he followed where she had gone yelling, controller still in hand, "I don't give a fuck about the rules, but it'll be my arse that gets in trouble if you get lost. Christ, do you even know how to take the bus into town?"
There was silence for a moment and Keira stared down at him in disbelief from the top of the stairs. Finally she replied, "I have learned to live in twenty-seven different countries. I have taught myself to speak five languages fluently. I have eaten every kind of food imaginable, from haggis to hangi. I think I can handle your public transport system. How extraordinary can it be? You get on the bus, you get off the bus. Later."
Brooklyn waited at the bottom of the stairs until he heard the front door slam shut. Realising she was serious he quickly ran to the front door to follow her but remembered he was still holding the controller. He swore and ran back down to the basement, saved his game, chucked the controller on the couch and switched off the Xbox.
Sprinting back up the stairs, he grabbed a jacket off the coat rack because it was a chilly day, stuffed his keys and phone in his pocket and ran out the door. He surveyed the street briefly and saw the brunette standing off in the distance by the bus stop. He saw the bus coming up his street and heading towards her. Cursing his luck he started racing towards the stop, trying to beat the bus there.
He was halfway when the bus overtook him and drew to a halt next to the girl. She threw him a brief glance then got on the bus. A few moments later it pulled away, just as he reached the stop. Swearing loudly he threw a punch at the metal signpost. He ignored the pain and ran a hand through his hair. His mum was going to kill him if she found out that he had lost their houseguest within the first half hour of her stay.
Glaring at the timetable he cursed when he saw that the next bus wasn't coming for twenty minutes. Darien had taken the third car when he went on his date so he had no other way of getting into town.
Slumping down on the wooden bench he stared sullenly at the road. Stupid girl! He didn't even know why his parents had offered to host her anyway. They didn't have enough time for their own family without taking on someone else's. Apparently Keira's parents worked in random places and she needed to finish school or something. He didn't really give a damn, all he knew was that now he was stuck babysitting her. Sure it was a big family, but he knew he would end up doing it all. His parents worked long hours, Darien would be at college most of the time and Rosa, Davy and Bobby were still young enough to need a babysitter themselves. Yep, he would get the joy of looking after her. Lucky him.
Pulling out his phone he flipped it open and dialled Tala's number. Tala was one of his mates and if he was off work he might have time to drive Brooklyn into town. He waited patiently and after three rings Tala picked up and greeted, "Tala speaking."
"Hey man, it's Brooklyn. Look, I need a favour…"
Tala locked the door to his small, three-room apartment (kitchen, bedroom, bathroom) and shoved the key in the pocket of his leather jacket. He strode down the decrepit hallway with the fluorescent lights flickering above giving his face as eerie look. The harsh light accented the smooth lines of his face, the high cheekbones and straight nose. He pushed through the fire doors and jogged down the concrete stairs to the landing.
As he stepped out into the chilly air a breeze blow his red bangs into his ice-blue eyes. He walked purposefully towards the garage where his black and crimson motorbike stood waiting for him. He swung a leg over the bike and put on his helmet. Revving the engine he shot off down the alleyway, heading for Brooklyn's place.
He and Brooklyn lived about ten minutes drive apart. Bakuten wasn't a huge place but it was large enough to have distinct sections. In the centre of town was the mall, cinema, sports ground etc. To the north lay the wealthy, well-to-do area where the Kingston's house was situated. To the east and west lay middleclass families and to the south, where Tala's apartment could be found, was the dodgy end of town.
Tala lived by himself as his parents were long gone. He was only seventeen so theoretically he should still have a guardian, but there were just too many orphan kids out there for the government to keep tabs on. If the school ever needed to speak to Mr or Mrs Ivanov than they would unfortunately be 'out of town' on work. As for school fees and rent money, he worked two jobs and found ways to keep a little extra cash flowing in on the side. Maybe his methods weren't exactly legal, but not much about him was. Tala was a street kid, the law meant nothing to him, it was all about survival.
Taking a sharp left he sped down Brooklyn's street and skidded to a halt in front of his friend's front gate. The ginger haired boy flashed him a smile and caught the spare helmet that Tala chucked to him.
He slid on behind the redhead and said, "She took the bus into town, I dunno where she'll be exactly. I reckon if we start at the mall we'll find her soon enough."
Tala nodded in reply and set off again, driving slightly slower now that he had a passenger. Making a quick turn at the end of the street they headed into town
Misha bounded back outside proudly baring five tickets to the 4pm screening of Happy Feet, two large boxes of popcorn, a large Coke and a packet of Skittles. The good-natured Rei followed calmly behind her with four more drinks, all the while calling for her to slow down before she lost all the popcorn. As soon as she reached the steps where her brother and his mate Kaiwere sitting Johnny leapt up and snatched the tickets from her hand.
"Happy Feet?" he asked quizzically.
Misha just nodded happily and started hopping from foot to foot in excitement, unable to talk as her mouth was already full. Kai stood up and deftly took the boxes from her to stop anymore food being wasted on the floor. He was about to take the skittles as well but Misha glared up at him, swallowed her mouthful and growled, "Bugger off, they're mine."
He raised an eyebrow at her and sat back down indifferently, placing the popcorn next to him and pulling out a packet of cigarettes. He offered them to Johnny who took one and pulled out a lighter. Misha watched uneasily as the two inhaled and let out the smoke in small clouds. She hated it when they smoked, didn't they understand what it could do to you? She hated how her brother was so obsessed with being cool and doing all that shit that went along with keeping up that kind of profile. And Kai had been around as long as she could remember. He was always there to talk to and he would listen to her, maybe not so much anymore, but it still hurt that he did all that stuff as well. She wrinkled her nose and turned away as the smell reached her.
At that moment their last companion arrived. She hadn't been expecting this when they had left the house, and she wondered if she'd have acted differently knowing said person was coming.
Mariah Wong was Rei's girlfriend and Misha wasn't quite sure what she thought of the girl. Mariah had the body and curves of a model and could be pretty high maintenance, but at the same time Rei obviously liked her a lot and she had also had the nerve to dye her hair pink, which Misha reckoned was pretty cool – even if she didn't really like that particular colour.
Mariah gave Rei a quick kiss on the check and asked, "Hey guys! How are y'all going?"
There was a grumbled response from the guys, although Rei did lean in and whisper something in her ear that made Mariah giggle and blush.
"Quiet Rei! Don't be naughty. So anyway, I went shopping this morning and bought the most gorgeous skirt ever. You'll just love it sweetie, I can't wait to show you!"
Misha rolled her eyes remembering the other reason she didn't like hanging out around Mariah, but Rei just smiled lovingly at his girlfriend, blatant adoration obvious on his face. Still smoking, Kai and Johnny had started their own conversation, but Mariah ignored them and asked loudly, "So, what film are we seeing?"
"Happy Feet," muttered Johnny looking over, "Whatever the hell that is."
"Oh! I really wanted to see that film! It looks totally adorable!" she squealed gleefully, then turned to Misha, "You're choice darling?"
Misha grimaced at the word 'darling' but paused, hand full of skittles and halfway to her open mouth, so she could nod her head in the affirmative. She only did that much because she understood that it was Mariah's attempt at being friendly and she should probably reciprocate. Then deciding she had had enough of being a saint for today she stuffed the sweets in her mouth and wandered off towards the entrance of the cinema, bored already of the mindless chatter. She wished Blaire or Nessa had picked up their cells when she had tried to reach them, now she was defenceless against Mariah's endless girl talk for the rest of the afternoon. Hopefully the she knew how to shut up during a film or else Misha wasn't sure she'd survive.
Nessa was the kind of person who unconsciously makes you stop and stare and then accidentally bowls you over while you're still recovering you're senses. She was full of life and energy and it shined off her like a beacon of charisma – a total people person. She was tall, slim and tanned with gorgeous sapphire eyes and long, blonde hair. At the moment she had the tips dyed a baby blue colour.
Blaire had patiently followed her friend around the town for three hours this afternoon. She and Nessa were complete opposites. People managed to overlook the petite girl. Her only striking feature was her orange hair with black streaks through it. Her eyes green eyes were hidden behind black, rectangular frames and unlike the blonde she loved solitude and spending time reading her books. When she spoke, it was rarely with the same energy unless she was among close friends.
Right now was the exception. Her feet were sore, her head was aching and she had finally had enough. Plus she was absolutely convinced that they wouldn't be able to find the perfect pair of black, knee-high boots that Nessa was so desperate for. This had to stop, she needed a break.
"Nessa!" she called out to her friend who was already entering the next shop. The blonde turned and looked at her and Blaire continued, "We're not going to find them you know."
Nessa walked over, "Aw, don't be so pessimistic B-babe; we've still got time before the shops close."
Blaire pushed her glasses up and nose and sighed, "Ness, we've been through every shop in Central… twice."
Nessa frowned, "Yeah, maybe, but I swear we haven't been in this one," and she emphasised her point by waving enthusiastically towards the shop she had just been about to enter.
Blair took it in slowly, acknowledging that indeed, they had not been into this store yet. However, there was a very good reason.
"Ness?"
"Yeah?"
"They don't sell shoes there."
"Oh… oh well! That top looks pretty funky. I vote we look anyway."
Blaire sighed as her friend rushed into the shop to search for something she had seen in the window. Figuring that it wouldn't hurt if she waited outside she sat down on the step. Searching through her bag she pulled out her iPod and scrolled down until she found Teddy Geiger.
She sat quietly for a few moments, staring at the pavement and listening contentedly when suddenly someone's shadow fell across her face. Slowly looking up she started with the battered sneakers, moved onto old jeans and a black t-shirt and finished with a blank face with emerald eyes, brown hair and a bandana.
She pulled out her headphones and quietly, but politely addressed the teenage girl, "Can I help you."
"Do you know anywhere nearby where I can buy stuff for school?"
Blaire pondered this for a moment, and murmured, "Hmm… yeah, I think know the place you need, but I can't for the life of me remember what it's called."
A bright, cheery voice beside her spoke up, "Yeah, I know the one you mean. We'll show you the way if you want. I'm Nessa by the way."
Blaire looked around in surprise, wondering when the blonde had appeared. Nessa just smiled and explained, "They didn't have my size," before returning her attention to the brunette.
Blaire shrugged her shoulders and also looked at the newcomer. Holding out a hand she said timidly, "Umm… hi… I'm Blaire."
The brunette eyed her for a moment before taking the hand in her own and giving it a firm but brief shake.
"Keira."
"Okay. Now that we know who everybody is, shall we go?" questioned Nessa, and without waiting she set off down the street, after a minute calling over her shoulder, "This way!"
"Well I would've thought that much was obvious," commented Blaire lightly and took off after her friend.
Keira stared at the odd pair for a moment, that had been easier than she had expected, and then also followed. She had been friends with much stranger people in her time; a few more oddballs couldn't hurt.
It took Tala and Brooklyn forty five minutes to locate the missing girl.
In the end, just as they had nearly given up and were lounging around by the town fountain taking a break, they had heard a conversation that led them to her.
"So you're staying with the Kingstons. I know most of them; they've all gone to Bakuten Public School at some point."
"Nearly everybody goes to Bakuten Public School, unless their parents can afford for them to go and board in one of the surrounding towns," added a second voice.
"So you end up knowing just about everyone. I mean, not personally, 'cause it's a big school, but if you screw up then everyone knows. It kinda sucks, but at the same time it can be handy," said the first.
"Change of topic, tell us how you are finding it? Living with the Kingstons I mean."
A new voice replied bluntly, "I only just arrived at lunch, but I feel like I've stepped into a Harry Potter book. There all redheads; it's like living with the bloody Weasley family."
There was the sound of female laughter, and the two guys got up and started to circumnavigate the fountain, Brooklyn walking with slightly more tension than Tala.
Rounding on the group he came face to face with three startled females, surrounded by a pile of shopping bags. Keira was the first to recover and said impassively, "Well, imagine meeting you here."
"We're going back. Now," replied Brooklyn through his teeth – the Harry Potter reference had gotten to him.
The brunette rolled her eyes and snapped, "Piss off Brooklyn. I told you I'm fine. Stop being a bloody mother hen."
Brooklyn was seething with anger at the nerve of this girl and spat out, "You're coming with us. Right. Now."
The two continued bickering, oblivious to the outside world. Nessa frowned and for a moment it looked like she was going to step in, but a quick shake of the head from Blaire stopped her. Blaire tended to have a good sense of whether or not things were safe. So instead she looked up at the redhead watching the fight amusedly. She racked through her head trying to come up with a name.
Ivanov, Tala Ivanov. That was it. School hottie and ice prince. He had never been in many of her classes, but you didn't need to be genius to figure out where the reputation came from. His fine features and lean body were enough to steal any girl's heart. The fact that he had a mysterious past, dark attitude and rode a motorbike were also added drool factors.
Beaming at him she tried to start a conversation…
"Hi! You must be Tala. I'm Nessa; I think we had Maths together last semester."
…and failed miserably. Silence. He didn't even glance at her. Granted, it wasn't the most original of conversation starters, but usually her bubbly personality pulled through for her and the other person would at least make an effort to talk to her. Apparently not this time though.
No point in pressing the situation. Not particularly disappointed she turned her attention back to the fight. He probably didn't talk much because he couldn't hold a conversation, so no loss on her side.
Brooklyn was in the middle of a rant about his wasted afternoon, "…We just spent forty five minutes wandering around searching for you and you have the bloody nerve to be sitting here having a good old chat to some randoms like nothing is wrong. I bloody well had to get Tala to give me a lift in on his bike, so I hope you realise you wasted his fucking time as well."
"Don't forget to breathe Brookie," quipped Keira when he paused for a moment.
Brooklyn clenched his fist and snarled, "We are leaving now. Tala – take us home."
Keira sighed, "How genius? Unless you plan on fitting three and all my school stuff on his motorbike."
Brooklyn ground his jaw even harder. Why was she so fucking calm? How did she get under his skin so easily? But she was right. Forcing himself to calm down he turned to Tala and said, "Look, thanks for the ride. We'll get the bus home so you can go if you want."
Tala shrugged unconcernedly, blue eyes half-lidded, "Whatever. Catch you later man."
"Yeah, later," replied Brooklyn distantly, to busy glaring at Keira to take much more notice.
Throwing his jacket over his shoulder, Tala sauntered down the street towards the place he had parked his bike.
Keira stared defiantly back into Brooklyn's blue eyes until finally he turned away and scowled, "We better go. We'll miss the bus if we don't hurry, and I'm not waiting around for another half hour until the next one arrives."
Heatedly he headed for the nearest bus stop. Quick footsteps followed him as Keira caught up, ignoring the farewells from her shopping buddies. He felt a tap on his shoulder and he whirled round to face her.
Smiling innocently she dumped her bags in his empty arms and strolled on.
"What the fuck?" he yelled after her.
She turned to smile at him, but continued walking slowly backwards saying, "Well since you've been a bastard all afternoon I figured you could make it up and be a gentleman and carry my bags for me. Oh look. There's the bus," and she turned back again, picking up her pace so she wouldn't miss her ride her.
Just about ready to pull his hair out, Brooklyn sprinted after her, this time reaching her before the bus left. Once they were aboard, he made sure to sit as far away from her as humanely possible and all the way home muttered complaints and curses under his breath.
The weary teen knew better than to resist. It was simpler to submit to the harsh blows and cold words and for it to end quickly than to fight back and cause it to escalate into a more painful, drawn-out ordeal. Although a sixty-five year old man, his grandfather still had the strength of an ox and the swiftness of a snake. When the expensive, antique belt buckle bit agonizingly into his skin, the boy did not to let any sound escape his lips. It was the one victory he could gain over his guardian. Silent defiance: he would remain strong, he was not yet beaten.
His grandfather was in a particularly foul mood that night, probably because he had turned up late after the movie. The teen gritted his teeth as the sharp metal came down hard across his back for the eighth time. The hot, fiery pain lanced down his spine and through every nerve in his body, and still he remained silent. The next blow caught him unexpectedly on the back of his knee joint and sent him crashing to the ground. He was morbidly curious about this action. Normally his grandfather was careful to inflict wounds in places where they would not be visible. He must be really enraged to make such a mistake. In the brief respite he gained whilst getting back on his feet the teen made a mental note to only take track pants to gym class for the first week of school. Wearing the sports shorts would provoke questions he didn't want or even know how to answer.
Another blow caught him across the shoulder and he couldn't stop the hand that instinctively flew to protect the broken skin.
A sick look of malicious victory gleamed in his grandfather's eyes. He spoke scathingly to his heir, "See, you are weak. You let an old man beat you to submission, you won't fight back. You will never be worthy. Look how you cower over your wounds like a dog. You are a disgrace to our bloodline. I should do away with you now and save us the shame."
What drove his grandfather's wrath would forever remain a mystery, but seventeen years of living with the bastard had opened at least a few of the doors to his mind. There was no way of pleasing his grandfather. In some sick way it was as if he wanted his grandson to fail, wanted him to be weak. If he resisted then the old man would just beat him harder, right to the point of unconsciousness if necessary, and all the while he would be cursing, insulting and threatening his heir.
It usually finished there though. The threats that he would, "do away with" or "finish off" his grandson were where it ended. At that point he would wipe the blood off the silver buckle and return the belt to around his waist. Today was no different. The teenager stood silently, motionlessly. He listened to the retreating footsteps and the creak of the ancient floorboards. His grandfather had been known to swing around land a vicious blow if he heard his grandson move before he left the room.
He released the air from his body in one silent sigh as the door crashed shut. He pulled his hand away from the shoulder and inspected the blood, still wet on his fingers. Even in the dim light of the immense library the dark substance stood out like paint on his pale skin.
He had his reasons for staying with the bastard. Reasons that he endured the random attacks, mental and physical. He listed them to himself as he limped out of the nearest door, trying to ignore the screaming pain from his right leg every time he bent his knee. He went through all the pros of remaining in this hell as shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Yes, he wouldn't leave, not yet at least, thought the young teen as he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the torrent of boiling water, so hot that within seconds the mirrors were steamy. He ignored the pain as the water hit his wounds and washed away the blood, he ignored the pain because seventeen years had taught him how to ignore it. He smiled grimly when he thought of the advantages of staying just a few more years.
Kai Hiwitari wouldn't bail just yet, he wasn't a quitter. He had made it this far and he would stick with it until the end. Besides, what didn't kill you made you stronger, and it hadn't killed him… yet.
We all grew up in spite of our parents. I trust our children will do likewise.
Sandy Farquhar
A/N: The whole marijuana on the garage roof – don't laugh. It can be done! The first house I lived in originally belonged to some uni students and… well you get the picture. Perfect conditions for the damn stuff apparently.
Input needed people! You reckon this could be heading somewhere? I dunno whether I should bother to continue it.
Meanwhile, if you're a reader of Incoming Fire don't worry – I will finish it! I just need to twist things back the way I want them because the plot's getting out of hand and not heading in the right direction. When I figure things out I will update again.
The anonymous elephant.