Chasing Rebels

Chapter 2

I finally took the courage to ask someone for directions. Guess what? The room I was looking for is at the other side of the building. The other side of the bloody building.

Fuckin' luck wasn't being a lady today.

"Right, then left. Follow the hallway to the end passing the main entrance of the school building then turn right," I keep muttering over and over fearing I might forget.

"Follow the hallway to the end then turn rig—"

My mantra was cut short when a force of a boulder hit my shoulder that made my ass subsequently land on the cold tiled floor. Pain jolts up my ass, the impact almost breaking my tailbone. I groan.

As far I was concerned, the five minute warning bell had rung six minutes ago. The halls were empty and the probability of someone accidentally bumping into me was close to zero considering the huge empty ass hallway.

I hastily grab my stuff off the floor and wait for an incoming slew of apologetic words.

Except, it never came.

When I look up, my eyes immediately lock with the man standing in front of me, his toes adjacent to my knee.

Whatever apology I had ready at the tongue, since he lacked the sincerity to do it himself, died down my throat when he kicks my backpack as he walked away making it skid down the waxed floor.

Wha—

"Excuse you, dickhead. Do you mind?"

My insult had no effect as he merely kept walking as if I hadn't existed. Fuckin ass.

I should let it go, I know I should. Whatever moral complex I had shouldn't conflict with the bigger picture that laid in front of me, and that was being late on my first day.

But the shrew inside of me valued satisfaction more. "I'm talking to you," I call out.

To my delight, which I'm now musing wasn't much so, he turns around with an intensified scowl flaring his eyes I was sure would make anyone pee their pants like they were suffering from urinary incontinence.

He doesn't talk nor does he make a move. He just regarded me with sheer . . . hatred.

"Well?" I ask.

"Well, what?" he asked, voice low and deep. Under different circumstances, I would have probably swooned.

Probably.

"An apology would suffice."

Rico Suave doesn't bat an eyelash. "I should be asking you the same thing."

I almost belt out a laugh. "Where on planet earth are you to make you think that I'm the one who owes you an apology? You didn't land on your ass."

My feet managed to pick me up from the dirty floor and I dust my hands on the side of my jeans. "And I'm also not a clumsy f**k who's caught up in her own world to watch where the hell I'm walking. You've got eyes, use them."

Anger bubbles up inside my chest. I take a defensive step. Who does this s**t think he is? "Are you a varmint? Or could you just not understand human nature?"

"You're one to talk."

I was one step away from beating his ass if not for the fact I was already late. I don't need a reason for the school to call Frank on my first day.

Malign buffoon shakes his head. "Get that big head of yours out of your ass, it's not a hat."

"You sure make it look like it. Piece of advice, shithead. Don't take bullshits out of your mouth, it belongs to your ass. Put that brain of yours to good use, it's not just an accessory. Or don't you have any of that, too?" I was fuming. People like him need to get off their high horse to see that they're not at all worthy to be worshipped.

With an ass as filled as his, it's easy to get lost in his exterior. Especially that toned figure I had overlooked by the need to restore my pride.

Gotta love the textbook good looking asshole every school has. How the world won't thrive without them.

Too bad his attitude sucked balls otherwise he would've looked hot with his disheveled hair and lightly tanned skin.

Ignoring him, I pick up my things off the floor. Fitzwilliam Darcy just stands there staring at my movement as if he couldn't be bothered to bend his loins for the hell of it.

"And thanks, by the way, for the help. Much too appreciated, asshole. Unfortunately, I have better things to do than entertain your shitty attitude."

I turn around to leave.

His laughed. "Yeah. Walk away, b***h. All you girls ever do is throw an argument your way without actually finishing it."

Okay, I'm not taking this s**t anymore.

I do a one-eighty and went toe-to-toe with him. Now that I was in close proximity, I notice red stains at the side of his bag. It reminded me of a faded out bloody hand print. Come to think of it, the color really did look like dried blood. I would know. I've seen a lot of those.

"What the f**k is your problem?" I ask, fuming.

"You."

"Oh, thanks for elaborating. I wouldn't have guessed otherwise."

He narrowed his eyes. "Be very careful with what you say next."

Like that was supposed to scare me? "Did you lose your tampon or something? That explains your shitty mood. I kindly suggest you check those out the window next to you to avoid contraction with a harmful disease known as your personality. I swear you would still have ninety-five percent of your d**k if they weren't all shoved up in there."

"Would've been f*****g polite to you if you weren't running around like daddy cut your trust fund. What? Looking for your dignity if you had one?"

I ball my fist, resisting the urge to punch him square in the jaw.

"I don't think you're in a position to talk about dignity. Or is that what you do as a form of pastime? Being a fuckin' asshole."

His hand tightens on the strap of his bag and growls. "Spoiled bitches like you never really learn to keep your mouth shut, huh?"

Without thinking, the toe of my shoes hit his shin hard.

A twang of satisfaction erupts from my chest at the sound of his pained cry. As he clutched the area I kicked him on, I let out a small smile. Little fucker deserved it.

When his eyes met mine, the look that passed him made the look he had earlier seemed like he was an angel spreading its wings on a Burger King commercial. If hell was real, it would manifest in on his eyes

Like a snap of a twig, he juts his hand out and grabbed my arm roughly. "Listen here, you little s**t—"

But I don't, because I lift my foot up and stomp down hard on his garnering a yelp. His grip loosened and I have little time to react because he immediately shoves me against the wall.

My head hit the pavement hard.

Bad fuckin' move. I'm not really known for my wise ass decisions, you can tell.

I can feel the stitches on my stomach throb. My body was pinned to the wall by the length of his arm on my neck. The pressure was rough, but not enough to cut my oxygen off.

"You have a mouth on you. I suggest you tone it down before you end up in a ditch with the last thing you ever see in your life is my fuckin' face. I don't know who the f**k you are and I don't intend to so let me give you a piece of advice. Keep that mouth of yours shut otherwise you won't live to see the end of the week."

Is that supposed to scare me? News flash, I survived worse s**t than dealing with a hormonal teenager. I'm not afraid of him.

In an instant, he grips the collar of my shirt and throws me roughly on the ground.

Unfortunately, my body twists at an odd angle and I feel something snap behind my gauze.

Fuck!

My body curls up, protecting my stomach from whatever assault this shithead had planned.

But he just stands there unmoving.

"Next time you stir up s**t make sure to finish it," he calls out.

I hide my face away from him leaning my forehead against the cool tiles. Somehow, the chill made me feel at ease never mind the fact it was grimy. I don't want this man to know I was in pain seeing as he wouldn't help me. 

He wouldn't help me because I won't let him know the damaged he caused. If I do, he'd ask questions. And I can't let people ask questions. 

I can deal with pain, I can deal with shitty people like him, but what I can't deal is to for my identity to be revealed. Not this early on at least.

So I have no choice but to choke in the pain no matter how much it hurts me because I knew better to handle suffering on my own than let the wrong people help me.

I lay there on the floor, silently crying on the ground as he leaves.

My side hurt with sheer pain and a hurtful throb that I can't help but let my tears fall.

I tried to stand but with every move my muscle could make, pain jolts up my side and I'm afraid I'd come crashing back down on the floor.

My limbs lay slack on the ground. I try to even my breathing as I've done a hundred of times. I'll let the pain subside and I can try to get up. Just a few more moments.

I wanted to sob, but I can't. Not when I'm not inside my room. It hasn't been a full day yet I ran into trouble with another student.

My desire to pack my s**t up and start over again in another town grew. I could leave, no one will even notice me. I'll be an ephemeral ghost that haunted the halls for a brief while.

Except, I know we can't.

Because with every move we make, my family was always at risk of having a big red target on their backs.

I just have to stick it out for a couple of months until we've out welcomed our stay.

Just a few more months and I'll get to start a new life again.