Page 118 of Sidelined

He had many plans for me; he wanted to rebuild the Lyons name, and I was the perfect pawn to get him that. But if I did as he asked, he promised me my freedom, which was the only thing I had to hold on to. Far worse things have been done in the name of freedom, so I wasn’t worried about what it would do to me as long as I got rid of my father.

I looked down at my watch and saw that it was about to be five minutes past the first bell. If I waited any longer here, it would just be worse. I would be marked as a tardy, and if I got too many of them, I could get expelled, and then what just happened would be nothing compared to what my father would do.

Jefferson Private Academy was one of the wealthiest schools in the country. The only reason I got in was because of my last name. You see, names meant something in this country. They held prestige. We were all dogs with a fancy pedigree.

My heart skipped for a second when I noticed someone coming from the corner of my eye. Their steps were barely audible, but I should have expected that from the person turning down the same hallway as I was.

Salvador Zinnetti, or as everyone called him, Sal, was coming my way. He was tall, taller than my five-foot-nine, but maybe that was because he was thin and looked regal. He was the outcast of the Zinnettis when it came to looks. They were all dark and tan, while he had favored his Scandinavian mother. He had pale skin that looked like porcelain at times, high cheekbones, and eyes that were a cross between blue and gray. His face was always impassive. Rumor had it that his mother died a little after giving birth to him. His father’s incarceration was the thing that made headlines. I was sure he would not be showing his face back here, but he still marched these halls as if he owned them.

You guessed it, the judge to sentence his father was my dad.

My skin prickled as I realized we would be crossing paths. I already had one beating today, I was not in the mood for another. I gulped as we passed next to each other. I didn’t want the prick to know I reacted to him.

He hadn’t done anything to me—yet—but he also hadn’t stopped his friends and family from threatening me like I was their personal punching bag. So, in my book, he was guilty by association.

I lowered my head and kept chanting to myself just to lay low and not make contact. After I passed the halfway mark, I couldn’t help myself and looked, and instantly regretted it.He was walking at a much slower pace than I had been.As if he felt my eyes on him, he craned his neck toward me, and I braced myself for his vengeance.

People did terrible things all the time, but when they got caught, they wanted a sacrificial lamb to blame, and lucky for me that I was right here.

The asshole was smirking at me. I felt a chill run down my spine as I got caught in his gaze. It’s like he knew I was waiting for him to pounce for what my father did to his, and he got off on the idea that he had me on edge. His gaze was predatory, like looking into snake eyes. I broke his gaze, but not before I saw his smirk turn more taunting.

I gulped.

If he wanted revenge, this was his last time to take it because I was getting the hell away from everyone after this. My father had reigned over me until I turned eighteen. After that, I didn’t care what I had to do to get out from under his thumb. The streets sounded like heaven compared to living in his mansion.

What the hell was wrong with me? Last time to take it? Maybe he just didn’t care for that petty shit. I imagined the Zinnettis had more pressing matters at hand. When I made it to my classroom, the door was already closed.

“One more year,” I whispered before I pulled it open.

Having been in this school, I was already familiar with Mrs. Knowles. She was middle-aged, dark-skinned, and had aged very gracefully, but that didn't mean she wasn't scary when she wanted to be. She looked at me apprehensively.

“You’re late, Mr. Lyons,” she chastised me, but I saw the pitying look on her face as her eyes raked me over.

“Sorry.” I shrugged it off. There was no need to lie and tell her it won’t happen again when we both knew it would, but there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. When your family donated thousands of dollars to the school, it made you untouchable.

My classmates turned to look at me, and I heard a few chuckles and whispers. My mask was already in place, and I quickly scanned the room to see if there was anyone I knew there. My friend Lea cast a small smile my way. She was seated toward the front, and all those seats were already taken. Squaring my shoulders, I made my way to the last row, where there were still a few seats empty.

I could do this. Just one hundred and eighty school days to go, and I would be free.

Mrs. Knowles started to pass out the syllabus when the door opened again. I didn’t bother to look up. My body was beginning to ache now that I had sat down, going off fight mode.

“Mr. Zinnetti, class started ten minutes ago,” Mrs. Knowles bit out. You could tell she wasn’t a fan, which almost made me smile.

My body shivered, wondering which one of the four Zinnetti spawns was in my class, although I already had a sinking feeling.

There was Sal, Armando, Cristian, and Carolina—but it wasn’t her.

I didn’t bother to lift my head but instead just looked up, and sure enough, Sal was there.

“My apologies, it won’t happen again,” he arrogantly told her.

His voice was thick but not rough, and his underlying accent was there. Which I’ll admit I found somewhat funny. I knew his family had been here for a generation already, but they acted like they had just migrated from Sicily.

Mrs. Knowles didn’t fawn over him as the other teachers did. Instead, she pointed her tan finger toward me, and my saliva became thicker when our gazes met for the second time today.

Why did she point at me?

Fuck.

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