Scarred (Bullied Book 5) (Bullied Series) Page 4

  “But there has to be some other way to deal with this,” my mom said.

  “Unfortunately, Mrs. Brooks, your son has a long history of misdeeds, especially if we take into account his records from Rawenwood High. He’s been skipping classes, smoking on school premises, and fighting with other students. It’s only the tip of the iceberg, and unlike my predecessor and the previous school administration, I’m not so forgiving. Your son needs to clean up his act. If not, we will deal with him accordingly.”

  Thank fuck she didn’t know about the drugs. Steven would be expelled before you could say nincompoop.

  “Of course,” Mom replied, her lips trembling. “I understand.”

  She barely said a word after that, casting a tight-lipped smile at Mrs. Aguda as a farewell before we left her office. The hallways were crowded, and a part of me foolishly hoped I would see Steven’s ugly head somewhere, but I knew better than to believe in miracles.

  I checked my phone again, but there was still no text from him. Worry gnawed at my stomach. I couldn’t stop thinking about his nose and all the possible issues that could come about if he left it untreated.

  “I’m sure Steven will come to his senses any day now,” I lied, offering her a reassuring smile.

  She met my gaze with a serious expression. “Meli, we have to find him. This is getting out of control, and Robert refuses to do anything about him.”

  Of course my dad refused to do anything about Steven. He’d given up on him a long time ago. He didn’t want to hear any more about Steven until he changed for the better, so we couldn’t rely on him to be the voice of reason.

  Then again, he wasn’t the only one responsible for letting this situation get out of hand. Another one of the culprits was walking right next to me, with her “Steven isn’t an addict” attitude she’d had until recently, but I didn’t have the heart to blame her right now.

  “We’ll find him, but you know we can’t involve the police.” I lowered my voice, glancing at a group of students as we passed to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “What if he’s with his junkie friends? Or even worse—those bastards from the gang? He would go to jail.”

  Mom clutched her Dolce and Gabbana red purse with her perfectly manicured hands. It was funny how flawless her appearance was—so unlike her life, which was getting torn apart at the seams. If only she’d made an effort with Steven in the same way she catered to her vanity.

  “I know. We’ll have to find some other way. You can check with his friends. Some of them surely know what he’s up to.”

  I grimaced. “I doubt they would tell me anything if he’s decided to avoid us. The friend code, and all that.”

  Just as I said that, I spotted a glimpse of blindingly blond hair. I halted, instantly disgusted with myself because of the idea I’d just come up with.

  “Speaking of Steven’s friends . . .” I motioned with my head at Barbie, who was engaged in a mouth-on-mouth clash with a curly brunette against his locker. “I’ll go ask him about Steven, so give me a few minutes.”

  She raised her eyebrow at Barbie’s open display of eternal horniness. “Okay. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

  My steps were unhurried as I approached them, my mouth curled up in a sneer. Something unpleasant churned in the pit of my belly, and there was not a shred of doubt in my mind it was because it was nasty to see these two going at it like there was no tomorrow.

  I didn’t know what disgusted me more—the way he sucked on her mouth like he was an octopus or the sounds of ultimate ecstasy they were making. They were born to make porn. I wouldn’t be surprised if they already did.

  Note to self: check if Barbie secretly makes porn. Then you can blackmail him and rule the world.

  I stopped right behind them. I’d rather be anywhere than here, but, as much as I wanted to ignore the fact that this rat on steroids was Steven’s good friend, I couldn’t leave. The two of them had grown closer over the last few months and had spent a lot of time together, so if there was anyone who would know his whereabouts, it was Barbie. I had to tap into this valuable source of information, even if it meant I had to swallow my pride and do something that felt like a crime against humanity.

  “Ahem.” I cleared my throat, but the lovers continued to share their disease-infested fluids. I made an imaginary horn with my hands. “Mayday! Mayday! Two horny teenagers are about to make zombie babies in the hallway! I repeat, two horny teenagers are about to make zombie babies in the hallway! Send backup! And extremely small condoms!”

  With pride, I noticed I’d managed to attract the attention of everyone in the hallway, including Barbie. He groaned, finally separating his dirty mouth from hers, and looked at me over his shoulder. His glare and sneer were not for the faint-hearted, but unfortunately for him, I ate glares and sneers like his for breakfast.

  “I’d recognize that annoying voice anywhere,” he growled. My eyes landed on his lips against my will. They were swollen like he’d just been kissing a bee. Double eww.

  “I’m glad I’m recognizable. It’s a mark of truly remarkable people, I must say,” I said with a grin that was meant to repel all bearers of misery.

  He turned to face me with a bored expression and sized me up. “No, it’s a sign of annoying people and nothing to be proud of. Go and harass your brother since you’ve been so good at it recently.”

  His last words punched a hole of regret into me, but I would never—not in a million years—show him how much they hurt me. I wanted to chop off his dick, but I knew I needed to swallow my pride for the greater good and keep my mouth in check.

  I truly hoped life would reward me for this unprecedented show of patience—with, let’s say, an unlimited amount of hardcovers and Dr. Martens.

  “It’s funny you mention my brother, because he’s exactly why I’m dignifying you with my honorable presence.” The brunette snorted, and I met her stare. “Anything remotely smart to say, Bratz doll?”

  She scrunched up her nose and crossed her arms over her small chest, her eyes taking a dive down my body. “Unlike you, yes, I have many smart things to say, blobfish.”

  “Oooh, what a burn! I won’t be able to live that one down! We had better call the comeback awards committee and tell them to give you the first prize because, damn, girl. You’ve got talent.”

  “Will you leave already?” Barbie asked before the brunette could grace me with a comeback. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re killing my brain cells.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “What brain cells? As far as I know, you don’t have any.”

  “Seriously, leave,” the brunette said. “You’re interrupting us.”

  “Aww. My apologies to your vagina, but I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”

  “If you came for my dick, you can forget about it,” Barbie said. “I don’t fuck ugly nutjobs.”

  I cringed. “Why would I want your microscopic dick?” I glanced at his latest flavor of the day. “I gotta warn you, Bratz doll. You oughta stay away from Barbie here unless you want the worst sex of your life.”

  “Go the fuck away,” Barbie growled at me through his teeth.

  I ignored him. “Steven is gone and I want you to tell me where he is.”

  He raised his eyebrow, his lips twisting with mockery. “Would you look at that? You’re asking me for help. You’re not so tough anymore, are you? I’m kinda tempted to film this so I can always show you what a pathetic joke you are.”

  I grimaced, squeezing my hands into tight fists. Patience. Just . . . stay . . . patient.

  “And I’m kinda tempted to strangle you, but I’m going to give you a pass this time. Just tell me where he’s gone off to.”

  He barked out a grating laugh. Anger bubbled up inside me, reaching the surface far too quickly, and I was afraid I was going to make another scene right here and now.

  “Sure, I’ll tell you where he is.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “I’ll tell you when y
ou drop to your knees, lick my shoes clean”—he pointed at his red Nike shoes—“and tell me how sorry you are for every insult that ever came out of your mouth.”

  Stupid. Motherfucker. One punch and he would be flying to Mars. Just one punch.

  “You can save that fantasy for when you jerk off. I’m sure it’ll help you with your erection problem.”

  This jibe worked, because the brunette scowled at him, seeming confused as to if he really couldn’t get it up or if he could.

  Barbie laughed incredulously. “You can ask any girl I slept with to see if I really have that erection problem. As for my fantasies, there’s no way a bitch like you would ever be in them, so stop being delusional.”

  I clenched my jaw.

  He got in my face. “And even if I knew where Steven was, I would never tell you. So, you can stop wasting our time and get the fuck out of here.”

  He turned back to the brunette and plastered his mouth back onto hers, dismissing me loud and clear. I was shaking, imagining a hundred different ways I could hurt him and humiliate him.

  I was sure he was lying about Steven, but could I get the truth out of him? Maybe if I threatened him with shears, but the continued hassle wasn’t worth it.

  “Thanks for nothing. I hope you catch gonorrhea,” I spat and spun away on my heel.

  He didn’t even bother to respond, ignoring me completely, which irked me even more, and I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why.

  “Earth to Mel.”

  I tore my gaze from my plate. “Si? Oui? Ja?”

  Mateo leaned his elbows on the table across from me. “What’s up with you? You’re unusually quiet today.”

  I picked at my quesadilla. We were sitting in Mateo’s favorite Mexican restaurant, and it was supposed to be a fun night out, but all I could think about was Steven. I planned to look for him at the track and a few of the gang’s fighting places later, but I knew it was a long shot. Thanks to him, I was sure that my hair was going to go gray. It was just a matter of time.

  “It’s because of some weird alignment of the planets in the Blah Blah Blah system.”

  He arched his brows. “You don’t say.”

  I nodded fiercely. “Yep. It happens once in never, and it affects humans at the molecular level.”

  He looked at me as if I’d come from Mars. “You’re weird.”

  “I know. You tell me that at least once every few hours.” I bit into my quesadilla, and the cheese melted in my mouth.

  “Is it because you’re suspended?”

  I managed to grin. “Absolutely not! My life is so good I wish I’d gotten suspended sooner. Seriously, you should try it.”

  “Yep, you’re definitely weird.” He let out a deep chuckle, his eyes for once reflecting something close to amusement. Usually, they were clouded and sad, and his smiles were forced more often than not.

  Ever since Sarah had broken up with him last year, he was an echo of his former self and incapable of moving on. For someone who had once been Rawenwood High’s playboy, he’d surely changed his ways. Girls practically threw themselves at him, but he refused them all, and was on a certain path to becoming a hermit. I was almost tempted to just tell him to go to a monastery and become a monk already.

  Even now, the girls around us looked at him like he was the main course—no, the dessert—and I could see why. Mateo Diaz was charming and handsome, with his angular jaw, light-brown eyes that held hints of mystery and allure, and curly hair brushing his shoulders. He was a hot Latino from head to toe.

  But I saw beyond his appearance. He wasn’t just some trophy boy. He was caring and considerate, and he was my first guy bestie, having broken through my barrier of distrust toward guys. Maybe, if my life had been different, I would’ve been able to crush on him, too. But that was a whole other reality, and I stopped wishing to turn back time long ago. It was pointless.

  His smile faded. “Then what’s going on?”

  “You really want to play Freud?”

  He winked at me. “What are friends for?”

  I sighed, wondering how to put everything into words without sounding as though I was sinking. I wasn’t sleeping well, I didn’t have any appetite, and I was biting my nails and downing Red Bulls more than ever.

  All because of Steven and his addiction.

  “It’s Steven. We had an argument, and now he’s who knows where. Probably searching for his brain. Or a solution to his smelly farts.”

  With a laugh, he reached for his glass and took a sip of pineapple-flavored Jarritos. “Why did you argue?”

  I propped my elbow on the table and rested my chin against my hand. “The same old. Drugs. But this time it was worse because he insulted our mom and I punched him. I think I broke his nose.”

  “Damn.”

  “But wait, it gets better. The principal chose that exact moment to show up. She immediately pegged me as a delinquent and sent me to this program for problematic students that’s supposed to reform the devil out of me.”

  He grimaced. “You’re the definition of unlucky.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Your principal is a drama queen. You punched your brother. Big deal. I get the suspension, but that program? It sounds like a joke.”

  “I wish. It’s very real, and now I have to spend the next few weeks partnered with some kid who got the short end of the stick.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “The program coordinator told me I’m being assigned to keep a quadriplegic boy company. He needs some assistance, so I’ll probably have to help him get around or something like that,” I said around another bite of quesadilla. “I’m super extra very nervous. I have zero knowledge about people with quadriplegia, so what if I mess up something and he gets injured? Or worse, breaks a bone or two?”

  His quiet chuckle did nothing to calm me. “Don’t overthink it. I have a cousin who’s a quadriplegic, and he isn’t as helpless as you might think. Esteban can do a lot of things on his own. He even drives.”

  My jaw dropped. “How?”

  He laughed at my shocked expression. “His car is modified with special equipment, so he can control everything with hand controls. Don’t look so surprised. There’s a lot of stuff made specifically for disabled people that allows them to function on their own.”

  “You see? I don’t know anything.”

  “You’ll learn. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you’re a quick learner. You can adapt to any type of situation. I’m sure if someone threw you into a shark tank, you’d be able to deal with those sharks in two seconds flat.”

  “Of course I would!” I flexed my bicep. “One punch and—poof! They’re gone. Wiped out.” I kissed my fist.

  His chuckles grew into loud laughter. “There you go. So, I’m sure you’ll do well.”

  “Right, but enough about me. We didn’t come here so I could whine the whole time. Cheers.” I raised my glass of Coke in a toast and took a huge gulp of the biting deliciousness.

  Mateo also raised his glass, munching away on his tacos with an open mouth. He reminded me of Steven in that aspect. Steven always chomped on his food and let everyone see the gaping hole that was his mouth.

  There I went again. Every single thought led me back to that moron.

  “I need your help with a present for Gramps.” Mateo pressed his hand against his mouth to stifle a burp. “His birthday is on Saturday, and I don’t know what to get him.”

  “It’s Mr. J.’s birthday?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jonathan Lane, or Mr. J., as I liked to call him, was Mateo’s grandpa and the crankiest old man you’d ever meet. He’d arrived at the Raymond Retirement Home the same day I started working there part-time. He’d been impossible to deal with from the very start, complaining all the time and never smiling, but it turned out he was a real softie beneath that hard exterior. Though, he would refuse to talk to me if I ever said that to his face.

  “He’s so
sneaky! He didn’t tell anyone about his birthday, and whenever I ask him about it, he says ‘I’m too old to remember it,’” I quoted in the same deep voice he used whenever he criticized me. “I doubt even Adelaine knows it!”

  Adelaine was another resident of Raymond and—drum roll, please—his girlfriend. At first, they didn’t want to admit it, but now they were inseparable. Both of them had lost their spouses, so it was touching to see them give love another shot.

  “You know Gramps. He hates birthdays—”

  “—because they make him feel old,” I finished the sentence for him. “Yes, I know. The man doesn’t want to accept that he isn’t getting any younger. About the gift—last week he complained that he hasn’t gone fishing for a long time, so maybe you can buy him a fishing rod and take him fishing.”

  He snapped his fingers. “That’s it. You’re a genius, Mel.”

  “I know, I know. My immense intellect is praise-worthy and unprecedented. Einstein’s got nothing on me. Anyway, we should throw him a birthday party. I’ll tell Sarah, and we’ll come up with something—” I stopped, realizing too late I’d used the S-word.

  So much for my praise-worthy and unprecedented intellect.

  A tiny frown replaced his smile, giving his face an edgier look. It appeared every time I entered the no-no zone and named “the one who must absolutely never be named.”

  “She doesn’t need to be involved,” he said in a low voice, staring intently at his glass. “He’s my grandfather, not hers. I’ll organize everything.”

  I raised my brow. “Now, wait a minute. I know you two have a complicated history, but she cares for Mr. J. as much as I do. I’m sure she would feel bad if she were left out. I would, if I were her.”

  He snorted, his lips curling into a derisive line. “You think that asshole would allow it? He keeps her on a tight leash.”

  I stared at him, open-mouthed. This was the first time he’d mentioned Hayden Black in like forever, because Sarah and Hayden’s relationship was right at the center of the no-no zone. It was like a scab that kept itching, and the best way to let it heal was to ignore it. But Mateo still hadn’t healed.