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He nods before running ahead to warm himself up.
Part of me expected James to turn up at some point, but by some miracle we got through the rest of the weekend without him reappearing. After helping Cole, we spent the rest of our free time in the pool house on the Xbox James set up for us.
I should really have gone back to the Heights to pick up some work, but the temptation of just hanging out with my brothers before we’re forced to spend our days with the preppy stuck-up kids of this town day in, day out, was too strong.
By the time Monday morning rolls around, I’m almost ready to get on my bike and fuck off back to the trailer park. I stand in front of the closet with just a towel wrapped around my waist, staring at the ridiculous uniform I’m expected to wear.
I’ve never worn a uniform or conformed to anything in my fucking life, and I’m really not happy about suddenly doing so now.
Throwing the towel onto the bed, I drag a pair of boxer briefs up my legs and snap the waistband into place. Blowing out a really fucking frustrated breath, I reach for the clothes. A grey pair of pants that would probably look right at home on someone’s ninety-year-old grandad with how high the waist is. A baggy white shirt, a blue tie with the school crest on it, complete with a seahawk in the middle, and a grey fucking blazer with blue trim.
If it weren’t for those two motherfuckers down the hall, I would never be seen dead in this shit. I don’t give a fuck about the fact I didn’t graduate when I should have. It’s not like I had any need for the fucking diploma. The gang I’ve been drug running for doesn’t exactly require qualifications. All they want to know is that you can defend yourself and that you’re willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done, even if you end up with blood on your hands.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter, shoving my feet into the offending fabric and fastening the button around my waist.
This is total bullshit.
After running some wax through my hair, I stand in front of the full-length mirror strapped to the wall in the bathroom and can’t help but laugh at myself. I’m like a walking fucking contradiction. I’m wearing preppy rich douche clothes with my tatts showing on my neck and down my forearms where I’ve rolled my sleeves up. There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that I’m going to stand out like a sore fucking thumb.
A loud crash sounds out throughout the house before footsteps pound up the stairs.
Oh goodie, Uncle James is back to wish us well on our first day.
I pull my bedroom door open with a smirk firmly in place on my lips.
“Is your fucking cell phone broken, boy?”
I make a show of pulling it from my pocket and checking it. “Nope, looks perfectly fine to me. Excuse me, I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”
He stands aside before my shoulder crashes into his as I pass, but his hand grips onto my upper arm. His fingers dig in but not enough to actually cause any pain.
I turn on him. My eyes narrow and my lips purse as I go toe-to-toe with the man over twice my age. He’s tall, but I’m taller, and it’s painfully obvious to him as he’s forced to look up at me.
“Problem, Uncle?”
“You will not throw any more parties here. I very clearly told you the rules, and the first thing you did the second my back was turned was break them.”
“Huh.” I tilt my head to the side as if he’s just asked me some important question. “Funny, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I won’t put up with your defiance, Ace.”
“What are you going to do?” I taunt. “Send me back to the Heights?” His face pales. “Nah, I didn’t think so. For some fucked-up reason you suddenly want us here.”
“I’ve always—”
“Cole, Conner,” I bellow in his face, cutting off whatever he was going to say. “Let’s go. We wouldn’t want to be late.”
They both emerge from their room dressed exactly like me: loose ties, sleeves rolled up, the lot.
A smirk pulls at the corner of my lips.
Sterling Prep is not ready for this.
After making our way from the house and leaving James exactly where he was, Cole and Conner climb into their car, but I decline their offer of a lift and throw my leg over my bike. I have a suspicion that at some point during today I’m going to need to make a swift exit to avoid taking a preppy douche out on day one. I couldn’t give a fuck about getting kicked out, but I need my brothers settled before I fuck up too much.
We’re some of the last to arrive, clearly not as excited about the first day of the school year as others. Audis, Mercedes, Porches and other insanely expensive cars for teenagers to drive litter the parking lot.
All eyes turn our way as Cole and Conner’s clapped-out engine sputters into a space before the rumble of my bike follows.
