Page 46 of Royal Havoc

“You’re wearing a straight jacket. To keep you from hurting yourself,” he explains before I hear the slot on the door slide open.

“Please don’t leave me here,” I cry as the door slams shut. Sealing me in my own version of silent insanity.

twenty-four

Newbies

Onyx: 2024

Do two demented minds make a right?

I’ll give him the props he’s due. I mean, after the anxiety wore off, I realized I appreciate an out-of-the-box thinker. So I figured, why not join in on the fun?

Have I gotten tons of sideways looks? Of course. Does everyone seem to know who the new girl is… now? It’s like I’m a walking fucking billboard. Is everyone keeping their distance? Like I’m a virus defiling their precious clean air.

I join the line behind the other ducklings, strolling into fourth-period English with my head held high, reminiscing over my recent handy work. You just never know when a good idea is going to hit, and isn’t it amazing all the things you can find in thedamn janitor’s closet. It’s like a total plethora of chaos in those things.

I’m not surprised to find most of the seats are filled, causing me to slide into one in the back. The bell rings as soon as my ass hits the wooden seat, and I start unpacking my things.

“Slut,” covered by a cough, fills the silence making my head snap up.

“Wow, now that’s one I’ve not heard in a while,” the guy standing in the front of the room says, turning from the whiteboard drawing my attention.

Yes! English is my preferred language. How do I get extra credit?!?!

The guy’s much younger than any teacher I’ve ever been privileged enough to have. His short, well-kept, dirty blonde hair and scruffy beard showcase his stormy blues as he searches over his spectators. It’s evident from the way his black henley squeezes his arms that he’s a man who takes pride in his workouts.

I bet he could hold 120 easily.

“Would you care to stand and introduce yourself?” he asks, heads swiveling to find who he’s staring at.

Once I’m on my feet, I notice his eyes linger briefly on the crusty white residue covering the front of the sweats for a moment before his head tilts just a little.

“Onyx,” I smile, hating when I feel my cheeks heat.

He rests on his desk, arms crossed over his defined chest, getting comfortable. “No last name?” he asks, cocking one of his brows.

“Sterling,” I answer quickly, noticing a hint of crinkles beside his eyes as though he’s hiding a smile.

“Mr. Brickman,” he introduces himself. “We’ve got something in common. We’re both newbies,” he informs me, finally putting his perfect smile on display. “Where did you migrate from?”

“Scarlet City,” I answer, noticing a few yawns break out around the room.

Nodding while he straightens. “A city girl, nice. I’m from a hill in West Virginia,” he throws out as he walks around his desk.

I sit before he starts class, thinking of a few morepersonalquestions I wouldn’t mind him answering.

A piece of crumpled paper lands on my desk, and that’s when I notice Carney sitting in the row to my right, one desk up from me. She sneers, nodding at me to look at the wadded-up paper.

It doesn’t take a genius to know she’s not throwing me a love letter. But… what is it with these kids in the sticks? Who leaves evidence? In the city, we would have bought a copy of her transcript and started the massacre with burner phones and fake socials, not wadded-up pieces of paper with hard evidence all over them.

Watching her face lose the ugly shitty grin is priceless as she gawks in horror when I launch the crumpled ball at the front of the class. It hits Mr. Brickman in the back, heads swiveling around to see where it came from.

He stops writing on the board and turns, picking it up off the floor. “Tomlin, I thought we deciphered penis drawings belong in Art. Not English,” he says exhaustedly with a bored look.

“Not me this time,” a jock in the middle of the room answers back lazily.

All the color drains from Carney’s face when he opens the crumpled ball. All of us watch in dead silence as his eyes skim over the short note.

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