Except that isn’t the answer and nor is my coerced, ‘Yes.’ I shove my textbooks into the locker with more force than usual.
A second later, the hallway fills with another of Damien’s expensive colognes, this one rich with tanned leather. I fix in place as he walks behind me, swallowing hard when he doesn’t stop.
A few hours ago, he rubbed his cum into my chest and now he can’t even say good morning?
I slam the locker door and head in the opposite direction.
Near the end of the corridor, a girl behind me snaps, “Watch it!” followed by a splash. When I turn, crimson liquid is dripping harmlessly down the wall, more spilled on the floor, and Alyssa’s long ponytail swings indignantly as she stomps away.
Whatever just happened, looks like I had a lucky escape. It’s not the first time Chelsea’s minion has tossed something disgusting at me, but it’s the first miss.
My third period class is lit by the glow of my phone under the desk, desperate for distraction. By midday, I’m sick of everything and eat lunch in the old bike sheds again, tarpaulin slapping in the light breeze, the mildew strong enough my sandwich tastes of mould.
Footsteps crunch in the gravel outside and I tilt my head. Perhaps someone coming back here for a quick snog or a vape, but the heavy tread and muttered curse… Damien?
I’m on my feet, already backing away. One hand on the phone in my pocket.
A figure ducks inside, too broad and too tall.
My lips go numb as the stranger straightens, squinting into the dimness. He’s huge, the kind of bulk that comes from serious gym time, shoulders straining against his school blazer.
One of the rugby players, though I’ve never been close enough to any of them to tell them apart.
The boy freezes when he spots me.
“Shit. Sorry, I—” He scrubs a hand over his close-cropped hair, laughing awkwardly. “Didn’t think anyone was in here.” He retreats back through the tarp before I can say a word, and his footsteps cross the gravel at double the speed of his arrival.
Once it’s clear he’s not coming back, I take my seat, finishing lunch without another disturbance.
When the bell for fourth period goes, I make my way to music class, taking a seat at the back. The chair beside me scrapes on the lino tiles as Damien sits, thigh immediately pressing against mine. “Miss me?”
Did he see me flustered this morning? “Nah,” I say. “I’ve been hanging around with rugby players during the break.”
“Oh, really.” He sounds amused. “Which ones?”
“The big ones.”
“I’d better watch myself then.” His shoulder bumps mine. “The eye exam tomorrow will probably take a few hours. Better warn Bryan you won’t be home until six-thirty or seven.”
His fingers brush the inside of my wrist, quick, possessive.
Van der Valk clears his throat. “Phones off, everyone.”
He assigns us into pairs for a score analysis. As the classroom buzzes with discussion, Damien leans in. “Are you ready to earn that money now?”
I’m blank for a second, then grimace. This morning’s question about my mother. “She supports me. I’m here, aren’t I?”
He shakes his head. “Not good enough. You know what I mean.”
I focus on the sheet music, ignoring him, and he blows straight into my ear until I jerk away.
“Come on. I want to know more about the girl I’m fucking.” When my eyes stay averted, he walks his fingers up my forearm. “If you answer truthfully, I’ll not only give you the cash you want. I’ll give you a pass for this afternoon.”
An offer that’s more tempting than the cash alone, but I don’t want to hand him ammunition. “Have your lawyer ask the next time he’s getting her fraudulent signature.”
“Or should I just have him fly her here?” His tone shifts, a hint of menace. “What do you think? A little family reunion.”
With a sinking sensation, I realise he won’t give up. I’m best off accepting his deal before he makes good on his threat.
