Page 12 of Explosive Prejudice

As the class continued and we dug deeper into The Stranger by Albert Camus, I eventually got fed up. Looking down at my open notebook, all I did was doodle an ugly cat. I tapped the paper with my pencil and gazed around the class. Two seats ahead of me was Andrei, taking notes like some nerd. From what I heard, the guy was actually smart. Beside him was Levi, who was sitting next to his boyfriend, Jessie. Yeah, by now, I knew all of their names and connections. Jordan was friends with those two, so I assumed they weren’t that bad. In fact, I was pretty sure these guys were much better people than the group of trash I hung with. Maybe in another life, we could have gotten along? Who knows. Maybe in another life, I had a different father, and that father didn’t have a devil for an assistant. Maybe in another life, I wouldn’t have been born at all.

My line of thought was cut short when someone snatched the pencil from between my fingers, and I looked aside just in time to see Diesel snapping it in two before placing the broken pieces on my open notebook.

“All that tapping drives me nuts,” he rasped, crossed his arms over his wide chest, and went back to staring at the board.

Holy shit, I think I got myself a bully.

I waited another minute, then poked his shoulder with the half pencil. “Hey,” I whispered and was ignored. “Hey.” I poked him again until he finally looked at me with death in his eyes. Watching him get so pissed off only stirred me more, and I grinned like a jackass. “Any chance you got a spare to lend me? Some jerk broke mine.” I waved the half pencil in the air.

In response, he slammed his hand flat on the table. The loud smacking noise turned all eyes on us, including the teacher.

Shit.

“Mr. Rogers.” Of course she’d say my name. “It appears you have trouble concentrating today, so please switch seats with Rachel.”

Standing up, I looked at the girl in the first row she was referring to.

“Maybe next time, don’t put me with the peasants to begin with,” I muttered as I started to walk toward the front of the class, making sure to bump Diesel’s shoulder on the way. That son of a bitch was barking up the wrong tree.

My ass had barely touched the seat when I heard the teacher speak.

“Mr. Gómez, sit back down. Mr. Gómez—”

Her words were cut off as I was yanked out of my chair and pushed back until I was thrown out of the class. My back hit the floor as I expelled all the air from my lungs, and the next thing I knew, Diesel was on me.

Here we go again…

Diesel

“Why am I not surprised to see the two of you in my office, yet again?” Mrs. Morrison, the school principal, asked from behind her desk.

Keeping quiet, neither of us answered her question. While I played with a toothpick, Blondie here was busy compressing his left eye with the ice pack the nurse gave him.

“I thought I made myself very clear the last time we spoke,” she said.

A few months ago, when we had another small argument, she warned us to behave. Well, what can I say other than that the moment this rich brat looked down on me, I lost my temper.

“It was nothing,” I grunted, and she raised her eyebrow at me.

“Nothing?” Her eyes darted to Shay-Lee. “You dragged him out of class only to punch him in the hall.”

“I didn’t want to disturb the class.”

She gaped at me, the wrinkle around her mouth stretching, before she closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her narrow nose. It was hilarious to see her facial expressions after spending too much time at the plastic surgeon. Mostly, ’cause they all looked the fucking same.

“What do you have to say?” she asked, her attention on Shay-Lee.

Busy with my toothpick, I was ready for him to blame me when, instead, he asked an odd question.

“Will the school contact my father about this?” From how his words were barely spoken, it sounded like it was the last thing he wanted to happen. Why? Wasn’t his daddy rich enough to get him out of shit like this?

“If it doesn’t happen again, then no, we won’t need to concern him with this matter. I’m sure your father is a very busy man.”

Ignoring her pathetic kiss-assing to his dad, Shay-Lee bit on his full bottom lip before nodding. And did I just eye his plump, red lips? Yeah, I did, and I just did it again, but what could I say? He had pretty lips. Like, extremely pretty. Especially with the bruise I gave him.

“It’s almost February,” she started saying, snapping my attention away from his pink tongue, darting to lick the dry blood on the corner of his mouth. “Meaning we have about five months left until you’re done with high school and move on to college. So, for the love of God, please make it easy for me not to have to expel you.” With that being said, she pinned Shay-Lee with her eyes. “You are free to go, Mr. Rogers.”

Nodding like a good kid, which was odd for him to do, he grabbed his bag from the floor and stood, not saying a word before leaving the room.

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