I didn’t wait for a response. I knew he’d follow through. I stood up, scooting my chair back, and walked slowly through the cafeteria. My peers stopped talking and taking bites of their lunches when I passed their tables, as if they thought I was going to sit down and have a conversation with them. Or maybe they were afraid I’d take their tray and dump it all over their pristine uniform like I’d told Madeline to do to Hayley yesterday.
Madeline was a vindictive girl. I knew she’d jump at the chance to embarrass Hayley. It was just too easy, if I was being honest.
I didn’t bother to give Hayley a glance as I passed by her table, but I did notice that she didn’t stop talking like the rest of the cafeteria did. It was as if she didn’t even notice me passing, which was complete bullshit. She could feel my presence from across the lunchroom, just like me with her. She was just making it a point not to notice me.
“Where we going?” Ollie asked, catching up to me. My father had left early yesterday evening, which wasn’t a surprise, but that meant I had to drag Ollie's ass out of bed ten minutes before we had to leave this morning. Pissed me off.
“There’s something I need to do.”
We continued down the hallway, Ollie beside me, and Jake and Eric trailing. They were talking about the game this weekend as we stopped in front of the office.
“Jake,” I barked. “I need you to punch Eric in the face. I need a diversion to get into Headmaster Walton’s office.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ollie interjected, getting in my face. “What the fuck? We have a game Friday. They can’t fight! They’ll be benched.”
I shook my head. “Relax. I’ll handle it. No one is getting benched.” I glanced at Jake and Eric, who really didn’t seem to give a fuck either way—precisely why I chose them. “You punch Eric then, Eric, you punch Jake. We’ll drag you guys in there. Sit you down in front of Ms. Boyd. Ollie, you’ll work your magic with her while pretending to keep an eye on these two. I’ll go into Headmaster Walton’s office and get what I need to get.”
“Which is?” Ollie crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. I hated when he fucking did that. He looked just like Mom. She always raised one eyebrow at me when I was lying about something.
I thought about not telling him and giving him a bald-faced lie, but that would mean I cared more than I did, like I was harboring a secret and being covert with my intentions regarding Hayley. That wasn’t the case. I wanted the entire school to know I hated her and had plans to break her in half.
“I want to know why she’s here, and more importantly,”—I turned around, giving them my back as I reached for the years-old doorknob to the office— “I want to know her weaknesses.”
“Brother,” Ollie warned from behind. “Leave the poor girl alone. Hasn’t she been through enough? I mean, did you see her face? And she’s skinny as fuck. Doesn’t look like she even eats. And that shit that went down with her dad?”
I spun around forcefully, something clawing at me from the inside. “Why do you care?” I was seething underneath my cool composure. Ollie could probably sense it because he knew me better than anyone, but he didn’t know about this. He didn’t know that I blamed her. There was power in keeping secrets—no one could destroy you if they didn’t know how.
He held his hands up in protest, dropping his head for a second before catching my eye. “I’m just trying to figure you out. You two used to be inseparable. I think I was even jealous of her at one point in our lives. I distinctly remember you choosing her to be on your dodgeball team in the seventh grade. That hurt, bro.” He smirked before growing serious again. “And now you hate her? So much that you had Madeline embarrass her in front of the entire school like the catty bitch that she is. You hate that type of shit. So why?”
I strode over to him, erasing the distance between us. Jake and Eric were both staring at us indifferently, most likely wondering the same thing. My brother and I were the same height and build. Tall with a broad upper body and cut muscles from football conditioning. The only difference was my arms were bigger and his legs were faster. A battle we often tried to remedy. “None of your fucking business.”
We stared at each other for so long that I felt my plan slipping through my fingers as the clock continued to tick. I finally shrugged him off and sent a look toward Eric. That was all it took. Eric wound back before Jake took an uppercut to the jaw.
“You fucker,” he spat with a hit back. Ollie instantly got in between them before they got too invested and neglected that this was planned and not an actual fight. Jake’s lip was busted, blood dripping down to his chin, and Eric’s eye was forming a welt. Those are my boys.
“Good shit. Follow my cue.” I gestured toward the door but stopped right before I opened it. I looked back at all three of them. “And stay the fuck away from Hayley.”
Jake formed a frown, and Eric nodded. Ollie only stared at me, but I knew he’d listen. We may not have always agreed, but he wouldn’t defy me on this. Not when a girl was involved.
Once I opened the door, the scent of old, dusty books wafted around. I crooked a smile in Ms. Boyd’s direction.
Show time.
It only took three compliments, a hefty dose of flirting, and a dazzling smile to get Ms. Boyd to let me in the Headmaster’s office.
Headmaster Walton was at lunch—which I already knew—and due back within the next ten minutes, so I had to act fast. I rounded his large, mahogany desk and roamed my gaze around the stupid, ancient globe, a framed picture of him and his wife, the row of expensive pens that were in a perfect line… Bingo. A large folder sat near the edge of his desk, underneath a pile of useless papers. The name Hayley Smith was written on the tab in permanent marker.
I took the folder and placed my ear against the door for a moment, hearing Jake and Eric arguing over their “fight”, which caused me to smirk. Damn good friends they are.
I scanned the contents quickly, sucking in all the information I could regarding Hayley.
Seven foster homes since seventh grade. Hmm. I thought Madeline was making that up to embellish her story…guess not. Three different high schools. Her current foster home was two towns over. Interesting. I took my phone out and snapped a picture of her address. Might come in handy one day. She was in juvie for assault before she came here, but the charges were dropped. Now that’s perplexing. My eyebrow hitched as I glanced at her school credentials: 1560 SAT score. Damn. Even though I hated her, that was a damn good score. She always was smart.
I flipped through a few more futile pages, and my hand stilled on the last page. It was a handwritten letter from someone named Ann.
Dear Headmaster Walton,
My name is Ann Scova, and I am Hayley Smith’s social worker. I am writing to you personally to ask if your board would reconsider opening up one more scholarship this year. Hayley is a bright child. The brightest I have ever worked with. Her life was ripped away from her at the age of twelve, and since then, her studies have never taken a hit. Personally, I feel that she excels so well in school because it is the only thing she can control.
Unfortunately, Hayley’s father, Jim Smith, was a very wealthy man up until the night he was murdered. He was murdered in the home that Hayley resided in, and from the bits and pieces I’ve gathered from Hayley’s past social workers, Hayley actually witnessed the murder with her own eyes, and she may have been the reason the murder took place after her call to the authorities. After Hayley’s father passed, revealing the serious and illegal crimes he was a part of, Hayley and her mother moved to a trailer park south of Pike Valley. After a short while, CPS got a call, and Hayley was taken into the state’s care immediately due to her unfortunate living conditions. But like I’ve said, although Hayley has been through troubling times and on her own in most senses, she’s never let go of her goal. She wants to graduate and go to an Ivy League college, with hopes of a scholarship. I don’t think she’ll get that going to a public school.