Blackthorne Boys
Chapter 2 : Questions
I wake up at dawn. I would be doing running drills outside if it weren't for the handcuffs on my wrist and the hidden camera behind the vent. Outside the window, I hear the sound of the screaming whistle. Typical Blackthorne. My face stings a little, probably from my wounds opening up again.
The door clicks open, and another man I've never seen before enters. He's wearing a pristine suit, a briefcase in one hand. I don't bother to greet him, faking sleep is more preferable than talking anyday.
"Good morning, Zachary," he says anyway, the chair scraping as he pulls it near my bedside.
"Are you here to expel me?" I say, staring at the wall. Even if he tried, it would be difficult.
He chuckles, his voice brittle. "Why would I want to do that? I'm here to be your friend, Mr. Goode. You see, the administration isn't too happy about what happened last night."
"I didn't know it was a demonstration."
"No, Zachary, we don't care about what happened to Mr. Kreminski. We want to know what you know about Joe Solomon."
"Nothing."
He rubs his hands together. "We have witnesses who say they heard you say his name. How could you possibly know of Joe Solomon? Or is there anything else you'd care to share?"
I watch his face shift from a relaxed state to pure concentration. Whatever he wants me from I clearly don't know or have. "All I know about Joe Solomon is that he is an alumnus of Blackthorne. That's all."
"And how did you attain this information?"
I'm ready to tell another white lie when the door swings open again. This time it's a woman with dark red hair and porcelain skin. I recognize her instantly.
"Mom," I croak.
The man stands up quickly, shaking hands with my mom. "Mrs. Goode," he says. He looks weak in her presence. "I was interrogating Zachary-"
"Why is my son in handcuffs?" The scowl on her face means business. "Unlock them and get out." She flashes him a smile.
"But Mrs. Goode-"
"Just Ms. Goode will suffice, David. I'll handle it from here." The door slams shut, the silence louder than it was before.
"How have you been, darling?" She reveals a set of gleaming teeth.
"Fine." I rub my raw wrists.
"Tell me, how did you get the file on my desk?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
A slap counteracts my stubbornness. I don't even flinch. There's no way to reason with her, she's not sane anymore I tell myself.
"The file, Zach," she says softly. "Why did you tamper with the file?"
But even my years of Blackthorne training can't stop me from caving in. She's my mother. She brought me into this world. She taught me everything I needed to know. I am not a good person.
"I was curious. I heard things about Solomon becoming a teacher here. I wanted to know why there was so much commotion. The school is undergoing some... changes." What changes, I don't really know.
She doesn't give me an answer. Instead, she locks the handcuffs, plants a kiss on my head, and leaves me alone in the room.
A mother's love is the strangest thing.
The next time I wake up, I'm in my room. Except this time, Grant and Jonas are glaring at me again.
"Hey," I reply.
"Hey?" Grant echoes. "You go missing after last night and all you can say is hey?"
Jonas pulls rips some bread in half. "Here, you must be starving. Breakfast wasn't that great anyway."
"When is it ever?" I say, swallowing the stale bread. " I spent a brief vacation in the hospital wing. She came and visited me."
"Your mom?" Grant asks, eyes widening. "Doesn't she have Circle business to attend to?" He lowers his voice when he says Circle.
"When was the last time you saw her anyway?" Jonas asks.
"2 or 3 years ago," I shrug. "How were drills this morning?"
"Enough about the drills, why make a trip to Blackthorne for no reason?"
"Joe Solomon, alumnus. She was interested in what I knew about him."
"Maybe he can be trusted," Jonas suggests.
"Or dangerous," Grant adds. "Whatever you got yourself into Goode, we want in."
"W-we? I don't remember-" Jonas sputters.
"You do now," I say, clapping him on the back. "Weapon Practice starts now anyway."
"Alright. But you better tell us what you know. Oh, and you're still in your sleeping clothes."
"Yeah, well nobody's perfect," I mutter.
TO BE CONTINUED