The Bullies Who Loved Me Page 6

  A few minutes later, my sister texts me that she’s with her friends. She’s as careful as I am not to tell anyone about our home situation. When she’s with her friends, she could forget our shitty life.

  The bus pulls up at the stop and I squeeze on with the other passengers. I shut my eyes as I wait for it to transport me to the mall on the other side of town.

  My phone beeps as my friends keep posting pictures and videos of them hanging out. A pang stabs my gut. I wish I could have fun like them, forget my problems, just be a kid. That’s why I don’t let Phoebe get a job, and I do whatever I can to protect her. She needs some happiness in her life.

  The bus reaches my stop and I get off and head inside. My job’s not much, just stocking shelves and cleaning up, but it brings some money in. Not a whole lot, but enough to buy the basics like food.

  My phone pings with a text from Caden. Ryder and I are headed to the pool with Avery and other girls. You should come.

  I know why he’s doing this. He thinks I’ll dip into the water and want to rejoin the swim team. He doesn’t understand how much I wish I could. I’d do anything to keep Blake’s memory alive.

  Shoving my phone in my pocket, I focus on my job. My boss Hal doesn’t allow cellphones during work, and the last thing I need is losing this job.

  As I’m organizing towels on a shelf, a woman and a kid slide up to me. “Excuse me, I’m looking for kitchen items and told it was on this floor.”

  I direct her to the other end of the floor. While I’m talking to her, the kid brushes his hand along the shelf, dragging down a stack of neatly-folded towels.

  The mom notices, but takes the kid’s hand and leaves toward the kitchen department. She doesn’t bother taking responsibility for what her kid did. And who has to clean it up? Me.

  Trying not to let my anger control me, I quickly bend down and scoop them up before they’ll get dirty.

  I think back to when I was five and Blake seven. Mom took us to a department store on my side of town and Blake messed around with the stuff on the shelves, just like that kid. Mom wouldn’t leave the store until he put everything back together. He was so pissed at her, crossed his arms over his chest and didn’t say a word until we got home. Then we ate dinner and everything went back to normal.

  When I was thirteen, Blake and I went to the same mall, this time without Mom, and he gave me tips on how to catch girls’ attention. I managed to snag six girls’ numbers. Some were even older than me. To this day, I still can’t believe what an expert he was with girls—he could get any to do his bidding. I have the tools to ask any girl out, but I don’t want to.

  If Blake were here, he’d tell me not to let the opportunity slide. He’d say I’m in my prime now and should have as much fun with girls as I want. But I’m more focused on other things, like making sure my little sister is taken care of.

  My fists clench at my sides as I think about what Phoebe goes through every day, seeing our once-amazing Dad shrivel up into a shadow of himself, a being who sits in front of the TV all day, drinking himself into oblivion. Chucking his beer bottles around, yelling like a madman.

  I throw my hands up to tear at my hair and toss these thoughts aside, when something crashes to the floor. Looking up, I find a few snow globes smashed to pieces.

  “Shit,” I mutter.

  A few shoppers stop what they’re doing and stare at me. Some kids giggle or widen their eyes like I committed a crime.

  Damn it. I can’t let myself get distracted like that.

  “Eric?” a voice says from the left. My boss Hal stands there with a disappointed look on his face. “Clean that up, then report to my office.”

  Shit.

  I grab a broom and sweep the shards of glass into the garbage. Then I mop the water away, making sure there are no pieces left behind. We don’t need a lawsuit.

  Once I’m sure there’s no evidence of broken snow globes, I make my way into Hal’s office. The place is crammed with boxes and documents that seem to be here from twenty years ago. And it stinks like stale cigarettes.

  Hal’s leaning back in his seat, playing on his phone. He looks up as I enter. “Sit down.”

  I lower myself onto the torn chair.

  “Looks like you had a bit of an accident out there,” he says, not taking his eyes off his phone. “Yes!” he cheers as he passes a level on his game. “Been working on that for days.”

  He’s the kind of person who had big dreams when he was my age, but now works at some cheep department store.

  “Why did you call me here?” I ask. “It’s cutting into my hours.”

  He waves his hand. “I’m sure you can afford a few minutes’ break.”

  Sure, maybe if I’d be getting paid for them. Each second I waste means less food for me and Phoebe.

  He leans forward. “So, how’s it going?”

  I shrug. Things could be better. I would have wanted to stay with my friends at the dinner. I wish I could swim with them. I hate keeping these secrets. Caden’s grandma came over last night with pie, but we pretended not to be home. She’d find out about everything. When she left, Phoebe brought in the pie, where she left it at the door. We didn’t even have a chance to taste it before Dad smelled it and snatched it from us. He fell asleep while eating and the entire thing smashed to the floor.

  Am I wrong for refusing to tell anyone about our life? I need to keep my sister safe.

  “Damn, dude,” Hal says, smirking. “You’ve got a lot on your mind. A girl?”

  I give him a look. “Why’d you call me here?”

  He locks his fingers together, giving me a huge smile. “Well, you broke some merchandise.”

  “Was an accident.” Shit, is he going to fire me?

  He nods slowly, not taking his gaze off me. He’s still got that fake, huge smile on his face. “Sure, sure. But still, we need to pay for that somehow, don’t we?”

  “What are you getting at?” I’m trying to contain my anger, but it’s growing harder by the second. If he’s going to give me the boot, he should just do it already.

  “That money’s coming out of your paycheck.”

  I’m about to say something, but he lifts his hand. “Don’t get your panties in a wad. You’ll pay half and I’ll pay half. Seems fair, doesn’t it?”

  “You’re not firing me?”

  He waves his hand dismissively. “You’re a good kid, Eric. Accidents happen, don’t they? Now, if you destroy merchandise one more time, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

  “Got it. Can I go now?”

  “Sure, sure.”

  I can feel his eyes digging holes into the back of my head as I go back to organizing the shelves.

  Damn this. Half my money’s gone all because I keep thinking about Blake and all the shit I’ve been through since he died.

  My phone pings with more pictures of my friends having fun at the pool. Once again my fists clench. I should be there.

  I don’t blame Phoebe or Blake, of course. It’s not my brother’s fault he lost everything he worked for, which led to him killing himself.

  My fists tighten. “That bitch Daphne Pickett.” If she hadn’t opened her mouth and spread those lies, my brother would be living the life he dreamed of since he was a little kid.

  “She’s going to pay.” I don’t recognize my voice. Nor do I have control over my fingers as they send a group text to nearly every student at school:

  That bitch Pickett is going down. Do whatever it takes to get her ass out of our school. WHATEVER IT TAKES.

  Chapter Nine

  Daphne

  I’m in an okay mood as I walk to school on Monday. I forget what happened at the diner two days ago, I don’t think about the way all the kids looked at my mom. I forget how Eric kicked me in the ass. It’s a fresh day, a fresh week, full of potential.

  Sure.

  The second I step foot in school, a blockade stands before me. Avery, her friends, and a few other loyal puppies. Each of their lips is turned up
in a snarl.

  Behind them, I catch the Kings with their arms crossed over their chests. Seriously? How much longer are they going to keep at it? Until I leave? Well, that’s not going to happen.

  The thing with bullies is that they eventually get bored, especially if I don’t egg them on, or cower before them.

  I push past them, only to be thrown back. I glare into Avery’s eyes, then into the eyes of the Kings.

  A group of kids has gathered behind me, trying to get inside. I fold my arms over my chest, lifting my chin. If I can’t get in, then they can’t either. There are only a few minutes left until first period bell. Let’s see how long it’ll be before they’re forced to dismantle their blockade.

  “What’s going on?” a guy calls from somewhere behind.

  Eric snaps at two kids at the right end of the line and they part to let the kids through. I’m about to squish along with them, when Avery, Amber, and Keira grab my arms, pinning me in place.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demand. “Let me through!”

  Eric steps forward, eyes hard with rage. I notice he looks a little tired and I’m pretty sure he’s lost weight. “This school is closed to bitches like you. Find some other school.”

  “Maybe join your loser drunk friend,” Ryder says from his right.

  I glare at him. “She’s not a loser. You guys are. And cowards. Only cowards act this way, because you’re threatened by me for some reason.”

  Eric laughs, the sound coming from deep inside him. “Threatened? Hell no.” He steps close, forcing me to back up instinctively. “I don’t want to see your damn face here.”

  The others nod in agreement, some with evil or disgusted expressions on their faces. Eric shoves me back. I lose my balance and tumble to the floor.

  He gives me a light kick before stepping on my back. He’s not hurting me, but the humiliation is enough pain to last me a lifetime. “Okay, Daphne Pigget. You want to stay here? Fine.” He bends close, so close I can see just how bright his blue eyes are. “But it’s your fucking funeral.”

  He turns toward the hallway just as the bell rings. Ryder and Caden flank him on either side as they march down the halls like true kings. Their peasants rush after them.

  Not one single kid stays behind or checks to see if I’m okay. Why would they?

  I scramble to my feet and zoom to class before I get more detention. I still have this week to ride out.

  I make it to English just in time, but then I remember I left my backpack on the floor, near the entrance. Crap.

  Ms. Simmons walks up and down the rows, collecting everyone’s homework—an essay on the book we’re reading. My hand shoots in the air.

  “Yes, Daphne?” she asks.

  “I left my homework in my locker. Can I please quickly get it?”

  She nods, and I’m out the door. I bolt as fast I can toward the entrance of the building, but I can’t find my backpack anywhere. My heart nearly skips a beat. I’m not crazy with homework, but I work hard to try to get into a good college. Maybe even a scholarship so Mom and Dad won’t have to spend all their money on me.

  “Where is it?” I mumble as I search around. I don’t see anything, but when I squint further down, I make out my notebook sprawled on the floor. Relief washes over me as fetch it, but then I notice my other school supplies scattered on the floor. And in the distance, my backpack lies flat on its stomach, all zippers opened.

  I jet over and reach inside for my wallet. It’s gone. So is my phone. Oh, crap. Not my phone. Mom and Dad bought it for me a few weeks ago. It was the newest, most expensive one.

  “No,” I mutter, running my fingers through my hair. “No. No. No.”

  One of those assholes took it. I’m sure of it. I usually shove my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, but I was in a rush this morning and forgot to take it out of my bag. Damn it.

  I don’t have time to worry about it right now. I need my—my essay. I rummage in my backpack, only to find it empty. I flip through my notebook, hoping for some reason that I left it there accidentally. Nope. It’s nowhere to be found.

  “Looking for this?” a voice says in the distance.

  When I look up, I find Eric waving the paper around. How the hell isn’t he in class? Right, he’s a jock—a former jock. They rule the school and get away with anything.

  I swallow. I spent days on the paper, worked on it most of summer, researching like crazy.

  “Give it back,” I say, trying to sound tough, but I’m pretty sure I’m failing. Ms. Simmons specifically stated the papers were due today, no second chances.

  He smiles evilly, continuing to wave it around. “And why the hell should I?” He steps closer, inch by inch, like it’s taking hours instead of minutes. This paper counts for thirty percent of my grade.

  My hands clench into fists. I glance around, hoping a teacher or janitor would come. Why are they conveniently non-existent?

  Eric follows my gaze, his grin growing wider.

  “What’s your problem?” I demand. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

  His eyes flame as he moves around me, like he’s a hunter and I’m his prey. “You didn’t fucking do anything to me?”

  He lifts his hand to my shoulders, pushing me back into the wall. I frantically look around again, but the halls are dead.

  He presses his hands on either side of me, his face creeping toward mine until there’s less than an inch between us. “You killed my brother,” he whispers in a stone-cold tone that sends shivers all over me.

  “No, he killed himself.”

  His eyes sear.

  “He committed suicide,” I continue, keeping my voice strong and confident. “You can’t blame anyone for that but him. No one forced him to—”

  “Shut up,” he snaps. “Shut the hell up. My brother’s dead because you destroyed his life.”

  “I—”

  He slams his hands on the wall and my stomach nearly catapults out of my chest. “Shut your damn mouth. You caused him to kill himself and you’re going to pay. Like I said, stay here and prepare for a life of hell. Pure, fucking hell. Because you deserve to suffer as much as he did.”

  Footsteps sound down the hall and Eric leisurely drops his hands, like he’s not afraid someone will catch him threatening me.

  It’s just a freshman late to school. Her face is red, cheeks puffed up as she sprints to her first class.

  I straighten up, looking Eric straight in the eye. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  He bends close, once again backing me into the wall. “You should be. Should be scared shitless.”

  Stepping back, he holds my essay before me, and I reach for it. But he pulls back, tearing it into tiny pieces. Then he throws them in the air, and they sprinkle down like confetti. With another hard look, he twists around and stalks to class.

  I drop down and gather the tiny pieces, trying to somehow put them together, but it’s impossible. “Asshole,” I mutter.

  I have no choice but to return to class empty-handed. Hopefully, I can talk Ms. Simmons into letting me hand it in tomorrow. Telling her the truth would do me more harm than good, since Eric is pretty much a god here. I bet he has all the teachers and staff bowing to his every will.

  I’m wrong and Ms. Simmons doesn’t give me an extension on the report. Says she can’t give me special treatment because it wouldn’t be fair to the other students.

  I feel my classmates smirking, not because they know what Eric did, but because I’ve lost thirty percent of my grade. But you know what? I’ll just have to work extra hard. And I’ll need to take better care of my homework from now on.

  The Kings and their loyal sheep can try as hard as they can to kick me out of this school, but I’m not afraid of them.

  There are only two schools in our little town, Leighton High and Ellentown, the all-girls private school Zoe attends. Sure there’s always a choice for me to switch schools, but Ellentown costs a ton of money and I’d never ask my parents to spend
so much on me when Leighton High is just as good a school. And besides, I’m not letting those jerks run me out. No way.

  ***

  When it’s time for lunch, I head for the bathroom before I go down to the cafeteria. As soon as I enter the girls’ room, a few sophomores block me.

  “Excuse me?” I push past them, only to have them hurl me back.

  They turn up their noses. “We’re under strict orders not to let you in here.”

  I fold my arms. “And whose order is that?”

  They look at one another, shrugging. I see. So they don’t know why they’re doing this or who sent them, they’re just following one another because they think it’s the only way to survive this hell of a high school.

  I push past them again, but they throw me back.

  “Are you deaf?” one of the girls says. “You’re not allowed in here.”

  I stare each one in the eye, waiting for them to maybe crack or show some humanity or something. But of course they’re determined not to let me in.

  “Fine,” I say. “Screw you all.”

  They giggle as I slam the door behind me and go to the girls’ room at the other end of the hall. The same thing happens, this time with seniors. Seriously. Even they’re giving into the Kings’ bullshit. They may be younger than the seniors, but they’re continuing Blake’s legacy. Not about being dicks, but about being gods.

  I try the bathrooms on the upper and lower floors, the one near the cafeteria. It’s like the bitches quickly text each other before I arrive, making sure not to let me in.

  I wouldn’t care, but I really, really have to pee.

  My only choice is to leave campus. I’m not really interested in eating with the other kids, anyway, so this is the perfect chance for me to grab some takeout from the nearest fast food joint. The first thing I do is use the bathroom, since I’m not sure if Eric’s worshippers will turn up here, too and forbid me from using this bathroom.

  Then I order my food and reach into my pocket for my money, when I remember someone stole my wallet. So much for lunch. Guess I’ll starve all day. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  I spend my lunch period sitting outside the fast food place, playing with my phone until it’s time to head back.