Breakable
Page 65
One more week of economics classes.
One more self-defence module.
Over.
20
Landon
‘See, Standish, here’s the deal …’ Boyce sometimes sounded like a long-suffering parent, which in a way was just meaner. It made people think things weren’t as serious as they were. ‘You’ve gotten yourself into some deep shit, dude.’
I rolled my eyes¸ arms crossed over my chest, one hip braced against a chipped sink.
Eddie Standish faced Boyce but eyed me from the side without turning towards me, like a bird. The better to track where I was … without looking me in the eye. ‘I just need a little more time, you know?’
‘Ah,’ Boyce said, pursing his lips. ‘See, that’s the problem. Your time – it’s kinda run out.’
Standish blinked and his face went blotchy. Jesus, I hope he didn’t cry. I hated when they cried. ‘Run out? Whaddaya mean, run out? Y’all know me. Thompson knows me. Can’t I, like, have an extension?’ He turned away and ran both hands through his hair, tugging it – but when he turned back, it was like he’d put on a mask. ‘C’mon, Wynn. Don’t be a dick.’ A superior, better than thou, I’m about to get my ass handed to me mask.
Wynn looked at me. Is he doing what I think he’s doing?
I shrugged. Yeah, man.
A lowerclassman came through the bathroom door then, took one look at the three of us and backed straight out, eyes bulging.
Wynn angled his head and walked up to Standish. ‘So I’m the dick, eh? Not the guy who’s two hundred – is it two hundred, Maxfield?’
‘Yep.’
‘Two hundred bucks in debt for shit he traded for pu**y.’ Boyce laughed, and Standish laughed, too. Idiot. ‘I could make a comment here about the fact that Maxfield and I don’t have to pay for pu**y – ever. I could comment about how sad and pathetic it is that (a) you have to pay to get laid or that (b) doing so narrows the field to girls who’d do a guy for free shit in the first place, but I won’t.’
Boyce stared at his feet, fingers on his chin, tapping – which meant he was about to turn philosophical. Fuck. I had a class to get to.
‘Now, I’ve got nothing against a girl who enjoys her body in the same manner I do mine, though there is a difference between bein’ a slut – like me – and bein’ a prostitute.’ Boyce peered back at Standish. ‘I don’t judge them. A girl’s gotta do – et cetera, et cetera. But guys like you – who only get it when you pay for it? That is just tragic. In a really humorous sort of way, when you want to turn round and call me a dick.’
There was a pause as Standish absorbed this. ‘I don’t really give those bitches any of my shit, man,’ he said, laughing nervously, like we were all tight. ‘I just tell ’em I’m gonna, then go ahead and f**k ’em. What are they gonna do? Cry rape? They’re addicts and whores.’ He looked between us, swallowing. ‘I – uh, I traded most of the shit for a carburettor.’
‘I really wish you hadn’t said that,’ I said, my voice low.
‘Standish, dude … First, tradin’ a substantial amount of shit for car parts? That’s dealing, dickwad. In Thompson’s territory.’ Boyce glanced at me. ‘And as for that other thing? You just f**ked yourself, man. My friend Maxfield, here – he’s got issues with the r-word.’
I watched Standish think hard to remember what r-word he’d said. ‘B-but, you can’t rape a junkie whore –’
He didn’t finish his sentence. I didn’t really mean to knock a tooth out – that was a bonus. I meant to motivate him to get creative with getting Thompson his two hundred dollars, and I meant to make it so he couldn’t speak or eat normally for a month. Done and done.
He paid up the next day. Boyce heard he pawned his dad’s Rolex, and he lost twenty pounds he was already too scrawny to lose with the forced-liquid diet he was on for six weeks.
The hitch came from the fact that we were on school property when Standish acquired his motivation. Though we preferred to keep these confrontations off campus, he’d made himself scarce for days. But school was compulsory, and it’s not hard to find someone when the whole student body is less than two hundred bodies. We figured out his schedule and set up an ambush – Boyce slinging an arm round his shoulders, laughing and smiling like they were bros, while steering him into the out-of-the-way bathroom.
Standish’s unfortunate accident put us back on Ingram’s radar. We were called to her office out of shop. Boyce guessed the lowerclassman snitched, because he was pretty sure Standish would shit himself before he’d rat us out as the guys who messed him up.
‘Except for that Jekyll and Hyde act of his – maybe he is dumb enough,’ I said.
‘Who and hide what?’ Boyce frowned. ‘That’s a book, right? Never mind. Just deny.’
‘Agreed.’
We were installed in the same chairs we’d occupied two years ago, after the infamous hallway brawl no one ever admitted witnessing. Ingram narrowed unblinking eyes. ‘I find it interesting that you two were seen with Edward Standish just before he left this school with his front tooth in his hand, a bloody mouth, and years of expensive orthodontia destroyed.’
Boyce staged an impromptu coughing fit to hide laughter. If there was one thing Boyce Wynn couldn’t do well – aside from reading for comprehension – it was pretending he wasn’t laughing when he was laughing. I concentrated on maintaining a blank expression. She couldn’t expel us for beating the shit out of a guy who swore we had nothing to do with it, and strangely, her eyewitness also retracted his story. I was sure Boyce was behind that, but I didn’t ask.
We’d been out on the water for two hours before the girl in the red-and-white-striped bikini deigned to speak to me. She made me think of a hot little peppermint stick. Snobby, but hot. I wasn’t particular about attitude, though, because a cute girl on the boat was rare. It made for a better view for the day than miles of water, coastline and fish, if nothing else.
‘Guys who are, like, emo or goth or whatever at my school are a lot … paler than you. And less muscled up. I thought that anaemic look was part of the lifestyle. Or whatever.’
I squinted one eye to peer at her. She’d sidled up next to me as I prepared to bait the rod on the starboard side. We were trolling deep today.
One more self-defence module.
Over.
20
Landon
‘See, Standish, here’s the deal …’ Boyce sometimes sounded like a long-suffering parent, which in a way was just meaner. It made people think things weren’t as serious as they were. ‘You’ve gotten yourself into some deep shit, dude.’
I rolled my eyes¸ arms crossed over my chest, one hip braced against a chipped sink.
Eddie Standish faced Boyce but eyed me from the side without turning towards me, like a bird. The better to track where I was … without looking me in the eye. ‘I just need a little more time, you know?’
‘Ah,’ Boyce said, pursing his lips. ‘See, that’s the problem. Your time – it’s kinda run out.’
Standish blinked and his face went blotchy. Jesus, I hope he didn’t cry. I hated when they cried. ‘Run out? Whaddaya mean, run out? Y’all know me. Thompson knows me. Can’t I, like, have an extension?’ He turned away and ran both hands through his hair, tugging it – but when he turned back, it was like he’d put on a mask. ‘C’mon, Wynn. Don’t be a dick.’ A superior, better than thou, I’m about to get my ass handed to me mask.
Wynn looked at me. Is he doing what I think he’s doing?
I shrugged. Yeah, man.
A lowerclassman came through the bathroom door then, took one look at the three of us and backed straight out, eyes bulging.
Wynn angled his head and walked up to Standish. ‘So I’m the dick, eh? Not the guy who’s two hundred – is it two hundred, Maxfield?’
‘Yep.’
‘Two hundred bucks in debt for shit he traded for pu**y.’ Boyce laughed, and Standish laughed, too. Idiot. ‘I could make a comment here about the fact that Maxfield and I don’t have to pay for pu**y – ever. I could comment about how sad and pathetic it is that (a) you have to pay to get laid or that (b) doing so narrows the field to girls who’d do a guy for free shit in the first place, but I won’t.’
Boyce stared at his feet, fingers on his chin, tapping – which meant he was about to turn philosophical. Fuck. I had a class to get to.
‘Now, I’ve got nothing against a girl who enjoys her body in the same manner I do mine, though there is a difference between bein’ a slut – like me – and bein’ a prostitute.’ Boyce peered back at Standish. ‘I don’t judge them. A girl’s gotta do – et cetera, et cetera. But guys like you – who only get it when you pay for it? That is just tragic. In a really humorous sort of way, when you want to turn round and call me a dick.’
There was a pause as Standish absorbed this. ‘I don’t really give those bitches any of my shit, man,’ he said, laughing nervously, like we were all tight. ‘I just tell ’em I’m gonna, then go ahead and f**k ’em. What are they gonna do? Cry rape? They’re addicts and whores.’ He looked between us, swallowing. ‘I – uh, I traded most of the shit for a carburettor.’
‘I really wish you hadn’t said that,’ I said, my voice low.
‘Standish, dude … First, tradin’ a substantial amount of shit for car parts? That’s dealing, dickwad. In Thompson’s territory.’ Boyce glanced at me. ‘And as for that other thing? You just f**ked yourself, man. My friend Maxfield, here – he’s got issues with the r-word.’
I watched Standish think hard to remember what r-word he’d said. ‘B-but, you can’t rape a junkie whore –’
He didn’t finish his sentence. I didn’t really mean to knock a tooth out – that was a bonus. I meant to motivate him to get creative with getting Thompson his two hundred dollars, and I meant to make it so he couldn’t speak or eat normally for a month. Done and done.
He paid up the next day. Boyce heard he pawned his dad’s Rolex, and he lost twenty pounds he was already too scrawny to lose with the forced-liquid diet he was on for six weeks.
The hitch came from the fact that we were on school property when Standish acquired his motivation. Though we preferred to keep these confrontations off campus, he’d made himself scarce for days. But school was compulsory, and it’s not hard to find someone when the whole student body is less than two hundred bodies. We figured out his schedule and set up an ambush – Boyce slinging an arm round his shoulders, laughing and smiling like they were bros, while steering him into the out-of-the-way bathroom.
Standish’s unfortunate accident put us back on Ingram’s radar. We were called to her office out of shop. Boyce guessed the lowerclassman snitched, because he was pretty sure Standish would shit himself before he’d rat us out as the guys who messed him up.
‘Except for that Jekyll and Hyde act of his – maybe he is dumb enough,’ I said.
‘Who and hide what?’ Boyce frowned. ‘That’s a book, right? Never mind. Just deny.’
‘Agreed.’
We were installed in the same chairs we’d occupied two years ago, after the infamous hallway brawl no one ever admitted witnessing. Ingram narrowed unblinking eyes. ‘I find it interesting that you two were seen with Edward Standish just before he left this school with his front tooth in his hand, a bloody mouth, and years of expensive orthodontia destroyed.’
Boyce staged an impromptu coughing fit to hide laughter. If there was one thing Boyce Wynn couldn’t do well – aside from reading for comprehension – it was pretending he wasn’t laughing when he was laughing. I concentrated on maintaining a blank expression. She couldn’t expel us for beating the shit out of a guy who swore we had nothing to do with it, and strangely, her eyewitness also retracted his story. I was sure Boyce was behind that, but I didn’t ask.
We’d been out on the water for two hours before the girl in the red-and-white-striped bikini deigned to speak to me. She made me think of a hot little peppermint stick. Snobby, but hot. I wasn’t particular about attitude, though, because a cute girl on the boat was rare. It made for a better view for the day than miles of water, coastline and fish, if nothing else.
‘Guys who are, like, emo or goth or whatever at my school are a lot … paler than you. And less muscled up. I thought that anaemic look was part of the lifestyle. Or whatever.’
I squinted one eye to peer at her. She’d sidled up next to me as I prepared to bait the rod on the starboard side. We were trolling deep today.
