A/N: The next stop is Amsterdam! I'm so excited about their trip, what about you? It will have a little bit of everything, so be prepared. This one is a little bit of a filler, but it's information you'll need later on.
For the guest reviewers that keep commenting on the content of this fanfic and how they don't agree with it, please STOP. I've explained the direction of this story in the first chapter with a clear warning while I asked to respect my choice for writing. The fact that you just ignore that, is just sad.
I honestly don't understand why you comment if it isn't your cup of tea. As another guest reviewer pointed out; I don't need the police to tell me what's wrong or right. I KNOW what's wrong and right. This is FICTION. Which means NOT REAL. And I kindly ask you to stop bringing my children into your defenses, because that just pisses me the fuck off. Cheers.
For those who enjoy this: THANK YOU. Also for defending me! Xx Milou.
Forty: You've been warned.
"So you're sure that there won't be any surprises tonight?" Carrick looks at me intently, just like Grace, who is also looking a little scared for my answer.
I understand why they ask it. Normally when they get summoned by my school, it's because I pulled some shit. The past few years it has become somewhat of an unpleasant tradition for them.
"Not this time. I really didn't do anything wrong," I reassure them. "It's just about the trip to Amsterdam. They probably give you the whole rundown and stuff."
Carrick nods his head and resumes eating while Grace takes a small sip from her wine, her eyes never leaving mine. "You seem different," she comments.
"Different?" I raise my eyebrow questioningly.
"Different," she nods. "Less angry, more serious. I don't know, at ease."
I shrug and resume eating as well, not sure what to do with that information. She's completely wrong. I'm not feeling at ease at all. I am angry. And at this point, I'm just not sure to whom my anger is aimed.
Ana. The anger I feel when I think about how she ditched me at Lake Washington is still there. The fact that she lied still makes me furious and I still want to keep my promise to her and show her how an eighteen-year-old can truly act, just to make her realize that I was anything but that kid when I was with her.
I do have to admit that I understand where her fear comes from. Getting caught scared the shit out of me, and it's probably ten times worse for her because of the position she's in and because it was her family. But she didn't have to tell a Goddamn lie.
Leila. That anger is even bigger. The way she talks to and about Ana with no respect makes me want to hurt her badly. The way she and her half-sister talk about Ana mockingly, how they make fun of her as if she is the one to blame for her husband's missteps, makes me sick.
But at the same time, I want to stay as close to Leila as possible, just so I can find out everything in hopes it will help Ana in any way. Which is confusing as fuck because I should just let it be.
But most of all, I seem to get more pissed at myself every fucking minute. I hate how something that started as pure lust, has turned out in so much more. I wanted her to prove a point. I wanted her to once again show that I get everything I set my arrows on. I loved teasing her and pushing her buttons. But now that I've had her, I can't seem to get the image of her in this fucking kitchen out of my head. Of her on top of me. Of her taste on my tongue.
It's disastrous, especially because a kid like me can never give a woman like her all that.
"Are you excited about Amsterdam?" Grace, who apparently hasn't stopped studying me, asks. I'm not sure why, but I feel like she is searching for something, and it's an uncomfortable thought.
"Yeah, it's cool."
"Cool?" She chuckles. "I would say it's more than just cool. I mean, we never went to Europe. Another state is as far as we got during high school."
Her gaze is still focussed on me and she seems to have forgotten about the meal in front of her completely.
"You do realize that this trip is a huge thing, right Christian?" She continues when I don't react. "I mean, the fact that they take your class on a trip like this shows that they are willing to support and help you. It shows they have trust that you will behave. You can't violate their trust, Christian. You won't cause any trouble, right?"
Carrick has once again looked up from his plate, and while he is looking at me, his eyebrow raises. Their gazes are pleading, and I feel horrible for giving them a reason to say all this shit to me.
After everything they've done for me, all I do is cause trouble. After all the shit they had with my mom, they now have to deal with her out of control son.
And as I look at them, regret for the first time washes over me and realization hits me once again; this needs to stop. If I ever want to end up like Carrick and Grace, like Ana, I need to pull my shit together and graduate.
I reach over and grab Graces' hand, to both our surprise. "I won't, I promise."
She gives me a small smile before she finally looks away from me, her hand giving mine a small squeeze before she lets go and reaches for her knife.
I hate dinners like these. The ones where Mia isn't home too. Normally, she always finds a way to help me change the subject and get to something lighter, and right now I miss it horribly.
When I'm alone with Carrick and Grace, the subjects always seem heavy. It's either about school and how I fuck up there, or about my mom and how she fucked up. Occasionally, it's about my job which isn't remotely better because just like every average eighteen-year-old, I hate my job.
And so the rest of the dinner is eaten in silence. An awkward silence in which we all eat as fast as possible so we can get off the table. When we're done, Grace brings the plates to the kitchen while I make us a quick coffee.
"Will we meet some of the teachers that join the trip as well tonight? It would be nice to see who is joining you to Amsterdam," Carrick says when I walk in with three black coffees.
"I'm not sure," I reply while taking my place on one of the chairs. "We'll see."
And just like that, I suddenly feel nervous. I hadn't thought about the possibility of teachers being there, but now that Carrick mentions it, it seems likely that the teachers are there to introduce themselves.
If that's the case, it means that Ana is there too.
The thought of Carrick, Grace, Ana and me in the same room brings feelings to the surface that I can't and don't want to place. What's crystal clear though, is that this night will continue to be as awkward as dinner.
Fucking. Fantastic.
In the far distance, I hear Brown's explanation about what I'm seeing on the digital board, but my focus is solely on the name above the names of my classmates.
Anastasia Davies. Thank fuck she isn't here.
I hate that last name. Loathe it. It doesn't suit her and it doesn't sound right. I've been calling her Steele for what feels like months and seeing Davies behind her name now hits me hard. It's frustrating.
The name behind her name is even worse. José Rodriguez. The 'and' that's connecting their names is triggering something inside of me that I can only describe as aggression. That fucker doesn't have the right to have that place.
And then, at the end of the summary of names, there is mine. Way too far from hers, almost as if I'm the fifth wheel. As if I don't belong there.
I know it's just the grouping for the trip and that it shouldn't mean anything, but it does. It once again confirmes that I don't belong next to her. That I'm just a student. A terror kid that needs not one but two teachers to keep him in check.
The only good thing about the damn list is that John and Sara are on it as well.
It's almost ironic how Brown achieved to put me under the watch of both Ana and Rodriguez. Rodriguez hates my guts, and I know he will make my time in Amsterdam a living hell. He'll be all over me, not giving me any space in hopes he will bust me with something that gives him the right to send me back to the States.
I bet he is hoping for an enormous mistake that will finally give Brown the power to kick me off Port Bellevue.
And all that will happen under the eyes of Ana. I'm not sure how it's going to work out, but I do know that concentrating will be a bitch if she's that close to me for three and a half days.
"Are there any questions?" Brown looks around the classroom, where all the parents and my classmates have gathered.
John's dad, who is sitting right next to me, is raising his hand first, and as a reaction, John shrinks in his chair while he rolls his eyes. "I assume that this grouping isn't the same as the one for the sleeping arrangements?"
I can't help but chuckle at his question as John casts his eyes to the ground, obviously ashamed. That would make this trip fucking epic. Although Luna and Shailene dress kind of dark and punk, I'm sure they'll look just fine without their clothes on. Sara is cute too, and if my mind wasn't occupied with other thoughts, I would definitely raise my hand right now and make a smart remark about how the same grouping for the sleeping arrangements would be perfect.
"You assume right," Brown seriously responds. He is taking his time to show the parents what a good, responsible man he is, and it almost makes me gag. He wants us terror's off his school more than anyone.
"Naturally, the sleeping arrangements will not be mixed. The girls will sleep at one end of the hostel with the supervision of our female teachers, the same goes for the boys. It's completely according to the policy," Brown continues, earning approving mumbles and nods from the parents.
Grace and Carrick join as well, obviously happy with that information. I don't blame them, they've been summoned to school before because Brown had to explain what I did on the third floor with Leila Williams. Grace didn't speak to me for a week, probably because that's information you don't want to know about your nephew.
"Good," John's dad grumbles. "In the program, there is an amount of time planned as 'own contribution', what exactly does that entail?"
At his question, both I and John sit up in order to don't miss a thing about this subject. I fucking well know what it means, and I'll be making a fucking scene if Brown is now gutting that time because mommy and daddy are concerned.
"The program we've put together mostly entails visits to historical monuments, buildings, and museums. During the evening hours, after dinner, we have decided to give the students time to explore the city. Now let me be clear, this doesn't mean that we'll let them wonder on their own. It means that the students can consult with each other and come up with an activity, for example, bowling or karaoke. When they've reached an agreement, teachers will join them to make sure things don't get out of hand. It's for their and our safety."
Again the parents seem to approve Brown's explantion, even though there are some sighs and mumbles against it from my classmates. And they are right because it means that we have zero privacy, only when we go to the fucking bathroom.
"I understand that some of you are disappointed," Brown starts when most of the students are quiet again. "But it's quite frankly your own fault. It's not a secret that I've seen every one of your parents or guardians here on regular bases because I had to explain your behavior at school. My team and I won't take any risk. We are quests in a different country, and I expect respect from all of you during our stay. You honestly should all be thankful that we're taking you along, while the easier solution was to just take the other seniors and let you all follow extra courses here at Port Bellevue."
Brown's little speech sounds forceful and authoritative, and to my surprise, there isn't a single parent that commends on his tone or on what he says. They all agree. Even Carrick, who is sitting on my other side, pokes me on my side to get my attention. When I look at him, I see that he has raised his eyebrow in warning. "You know what's expected of you," he whispers before he turns his attention to Brown again.
I know what's expected of me; the fucking impossible. They expect us to be okay with having no privacy, no fun, and no trouble.
What Brown doesn't know is that he's just signed my death sentence. Because how the hell will I be able to behave when I have Rodriguez around me twenty-four seven? That fucking asshole is my kryptonite.
And how the hell will I be able to behave when Ana, my ultimate temptation and irritation in one, is around me twenty-four seven as well? She'll drive me crazy without even trying.
I'm pulled out of my thoughts by Carrick and John's dad, who are standing from their chairs just like the rest of the parents.
"There are coffee and tea in the room next to this one," Brown invites us while he stands at the door. "In ten minutes we'll continue about the addresses, flight information and museums we will visit."
While everybody makes their way to the door, both John and I stay seated. Not two minutes later, Dave joins us as well, his pissed expression matching mine and John's perfectly.
"What a disaster. I'm beginning to think that staying here at Port Bellevue will feel less prisonlike," Dave sighs while he rubs his eyes.
"Right?" John agrees. "What the hell are they thinking? Isn't there a rule about privacy that we can throw in their faces? For fuck sakes, this can't be legal."
I just nod my head in agreement, not even bothering to spent energy at bitching about this subject. They won't listen anyway, and since they have the blessing of every adult in this room, we're seriously outnumbered.
"It's going to be a fucking disaster," Dave groans before he stands and makes his way to the door, obviously heading for a shot of caffeine.
"Completely," John mumbles following Dave just a second after.
They're right. A fucking disaster. As if we hadn't had enough of those.