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“What was that?”
“Nothing. I’ll do my best, Tracy, but he can be stubborn and pig-headed, as you know.”
Suddenly my bedroom door opens and in steps Bobby. He looks mad as shit.
“When I knock, you open the damn door!” he shouts, his fleshy jowl shaking.
“I gotta go, Tracy. I’ll call you if I manage to get ahold of him.”
“Please, Lissy. You’re the only person he listens to. Try and get him to come home,” she begs, her words coming out in a rush.
“I’ll try,” I respond. Bobby looks like he’s about to pop a vein in his forehead. “Look, I gotta go.”
“Bye, Lissy,” Tracy responds before I whisper a quick goodbye back then scowl at Bobby who’s glaring at me, holding his hand out.
“Phone, now!” he demands.
“What’s the problem,Bobby? I was just speaking to a friend. Is that a fucking crime?” I retort, clutching my phone tightly.
“It’s Mr Rusk to you and thisisa problem. No phones. Those are the rules. In an emergency you can use the school office phone. Hand it over or find yourself in minus credits before you’ve even started your first day.”
“This is bullshit,” I growl. I really,reallydon’t want to give him my phone. “No one said I couldn’t have my phone.”
“Well, boo for you that you didn’t read the rules and regulations properly. Hand. It. Over,” he growls, his meaty fingers wiggling.
“What about everyone else? Have you taken their phones too? If I’m being mistreated because I’m new here and don’t know all the rules, I’ll make sure Mr Carmichael knows how much of a prick you are.”
“Mr Carmichaelwrotethe rules, missy. It must’ve slipped his mind when he had you all to himself in his office,” Bobby sneers, showing nicotine stained teeth. His eyes run over me, and my skin crawls. Definitely a pervert.
“Fine, take it,” I snap, throwing it at him. He doesn’t know about my spare phone in my bag and I’d like to keep it that way. I’ve had enough phones confiscated from me to know that I always need a spare. Eastern knows I have two mobiles. The one I gave to Bobby is the one I use generally, but the other one stuffed in the bottom of my bag in the back of my wardrobe is what we call the hotline. When I ring him on that he knows something serious has gone down. Bobby catches it, shoving it into his back pocket with a grin.
“Good girl,” he says. Those two words are filled with innuendo and make my skin crawl. “Off to bed now, and make sure you keep this door locked. You never know what kind of miscreants could end up entering the wrong room bymistake.”
For a second it looks as though he’s going to step further into my room, but then the sound of someone shouting from down the hall catches his attention and he backs out.
“You want to remain on the right side of me, darlin’,” he drawls, before rushing off to see what the commotion is about.
I get up quickly and slam the door shut, locking it before grabbing my chair and sliding it under the door handle for good measure. Sitting on my bed, I put my head in my hands. My day has just gone from bad to worse. Not only am I stuck between two warring gangs, my best friend is on the run and I’m living with a pervert who has the keys to my room. Fucking great.
