Promise?

Chapter 2

“Mr Holloway!” Lyric’s head snapped up at the mention of his name. He scowled when he saw it was only Dexter.

“What? You homeless s**t?” he deadpanned. Lyric inwardly frowned to himself. There was no need to be so rude to Mr Dexter, who was simply trying to do his job.

“The answer?”

“The question?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Quadratic formula?”

Lyric paused; he didn’t think he was in when he had taught this. He thought back to the two days he had missed this term: last Tuesday because he had no energy to leave his bed and the previous Friday because he had gotten beat to the point where his body was so sore he couldn’t move.

Since this was the third week, he had probably taught them on one of those days. And from the smug look on his face, Lyric was correct.

He felt the nudge on his knee. Looking down, he saw a piece of paper in Claire’s block writing. He didn’t need it; he already knew it, but it was a sweet gesture on her behalf.

“Negative B, plus-minus square root of B squared minus 4AC all over 2A.”

Mr Dexter stared blankly at Lyric, who stared back. He opened his mouth to say something but decided not to as he turned to write out what he had just said on the board.

“You could tutor Kaito, Zeke and Roland,” Claire whispered as she ran a hand through her ombre hair. She tried to peek at Lyric’s notebook, who slammed it shut.

Lyric turned to scowl at her. “They’re your friends, not mine. Do it yourself.” She was in the same class as him and, therefore, just as bright. Lyric wasn’t a big fan of her friends and was pretty sure he wasn’t on their best friends list either.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried! Someone always strangles someone, so far Roland has strangled Kaito the most. Zeke just screams at them to knock it off as he drinks his coffee.”

“What about Max?” Lyric asked when he realised she hadn’t mentioned him.

She shrugged. “He just laughs at them as he watches them beat the s**t out of one another.”

“You wear seven-inch heels, beat them senseless. Threaten them, right, but say it calmly, Watch how they piss themselves.”

It was Claire’s turn to scowl. “What is it with boys and violence? Seriously, I just want to meet one boy who isn’t stupid.”

Lyric didn’t reply as he focused on answering the questions in his maths book. Claire continued to talk, and Lyric continued to ignore her. Once Lyric answered the questions, he put his head on the desk.

His lower back hurt and his mother’s boyfriend thought sitting on him for six hours straight would be funny, despite Lyric’s protesting. He was a heavy bastard, and If Lyric moved too quickly, he would feel the sharp pains shoot up his back.

The bell rang, and Lyric quietly packed his things up and left. Claire ran up to him. How did she manage to run in those heels? Only God knew.

“Thanks for waiting,” she groaned sourly.

“I didn’t say I would.”

“You need friends.”

“You need to keep your head out of s**t that has got nothing to do with you,” Lyric snapped.

Lyric felt his body thrown to the right, out of nowhere, hitting the lockers that lined the walls. He groaned, trying to blink the darkness away as hands gripped his throat. The loud ringing drowned out the voice of someone yelling at Billy to get off him.

“I swore the next time I saw you, I’d choke you,” Billy spat as he squeezed tighter.

“And I swore I would like it,” Lyric said, smirking. Billy dropped him to the ground. He kneeled, throwing in a few punches before any teachers could get there, and he stood up and left.

Lyric shook his body, a small groan escaping his mouth as he stood up. “Nope, I’m fine.” Lyric sighed a little as he heard a few students groan. He shook his head, trying to eliminate the pain and the black spots.

“What did you do to piss off billy?” Claire asked as he walked in the opposite direction of his class.

Lyric decided period two would be spent under the bleachers, reading his book and possibly writing or drawing in his notebook. First, he needed to get rid of Claire.

“Claire!”

Lyric’s head snapped to the direction the voice came from. Claire also turned to see who had called her. Lyric saw Roland; he was a year older than everyone as he had to redo his final year, but he was infamous for his dark hair, bright green eyes, and leather jacket adorned with pins. Lyric took that as his cue to slip away.

Lyric dodged both students and teachers as he made his way outside. He was glad to see it had stopped raining. Jogging over to his spot underneath the bleachers, he settled down. Slipping his earphones in, he put his playlist on shuffle and grabbed his book as he continued reading.

Around thirty minutes in, his music stopped as the phone rang. He sighed as he looked at the name.

“What? I’m in school.”

“Did you take his money?” Lyric’s mother shrieked. Lyric imagined her sitting on her lover’s lap, high off her ass, and he hated it.

“No.” That meant a yes.

“Don’t lie,” she groaned . . . in pleasure?

“Are you f*****g him right now?” he hissed.

“Yeah, so? Don’t come back for the rest of the week. You can live off the money you stole.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he deadpanned. “I’ve already been strangled twice today, I don’t plan to make it a third.”

“Where did I go wrong with you?” she sighed. Lyric couldn’t tell if it was in annoyance or bliss as he hung up. He shifted the neck part of his shirt to let his bruises have some air.

Lyric thought about his predicament. It was Monday so he couldn’t be in the house until next week. He would have to figure something out. But first, he needed to plan. He needed to figure out how to keep 20 for an entire week.

Melly the weatherwoman, had said shitty weather was forecasted all week, so he’d need something warm. Water, he would need water. Humans couldn’t go a week without water. For food he wouldn’t eat, that would help save money. If he got one two-litre bottle, he could always refill it from the canteen.

Now, he needed warm clothes and would have to sneak home to get his spare inhaler. The one he had on him right now would not last him an entire week, especially not if he would be out. He thought about getting a cheap scarf. That way, he would only be breathing in warm air. He needed to head to town, pick up the things and then make his way to the little s**t in the corner of the roof.

But his inhaler would be the most challenging part to get.

~*~