Page 14 of Bully

“Well, make me proud. I expect a 4.0, or I’ll have to ground you.” Matteo says this with a straight face.

“Fuck you.” I grab the paper off the desk with my new schedule. Both Sal and Matteo chuckle. “And stop buying Riley fucking breakfast,” I tell Sal before I make my way out of Matteo’s office. The sound of their laughter follows me.

I wanted to take her to school, but I had to finish up my enrollment at my new high school. It didn’t take much for Matteo to get me into Riley’s school. Well, not much to him. He donated a new library. The dean was practically salivating when Matteo called him for a meeting Sunday afternoon.

When I make it to the school, they buzz me into the front office. I ignore the people who turn to glance my way with confused expressions. That makes two of us. I barely remember the schools I went to when I was a kid in Russia. It wasn't long before I was running the streets. Those were my real teachers in life.

"Ah, how can I help you?" asks the girl with dark hair behind the front desk. Her cheeks flush red, making her appear sick.

When Riley blushes, she turns a soft pink, which lights up her freckles. It’s one of the hottest things I have ever seen. I love that softness about her. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever known.

Maybe my brain is fucked up from the whorehouses my mother would drag me to while she worked. All of those women would be overexaggerated to get attention and make money. I’ve seen enough shit to last me a lifetime. The sex trade isn’t new to me. In fact, it often puts me on edge, bringing back memories that I don’t care to remember.

“Checking in. I need my badge,” I tell her. Her eyes drop to the polo shirt I’m wearing that has the school crescent over my left pec. Never in my life would I have imagined myself in a getup like this. I can’t blame Sal and Matteo for making fun of me. I look like an uptight asshole.

“What’s your name?”

“Nikolai Cattaneo,” I tell her. Her eyes widen a fraction at my last name. I’m sure she’s confused because I’m clearly not fucking Italian, and the Cattaneo name is well-known. Matteo gave it to me when he brought me to the States years ago.

“Right, okay.” She gets more flustered but directs me where to stand to take my picture and print my ID pass. “I’ll get someone down here to give you a tour.” The woman picks up her phone.

“I don’t need a tour. Think I can figure it out.” How fucking hard can it be?

“But—” I hear her say it, but I’m already heading out.

I check the time and schedule and see that it's already almost lunch, so I make my way toward the cafeteria as other students start to pour out of the classrooms without the sound of a bell. I can already tell that private schools are a lot different than the ones you see on television.

I ignore the whispers and stares, not giving a shit. When I enter the cafeteria, I search for Riley. My sweet little redhead should be easy to spot. It helps that I tower over the rest of the students. It’s strange to think that in a different life, I could actually be a senior in high school. I suppose I really am.

As more people enter the cafeteria, Riley is nowhere to be found. I grunt when someone collides with me. I glance down to see a mousy, black-haired girl.

“Oh, my God.” She holds her hands up. “What are you?” The girl covers her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. I mean, who are you?”

“Where is Riley O’Haire?” I ignore the strange girl's question. The girl glances around. She can’t be any taller than my Riley, so there is no way she can really see shit.

“Maybe the library?”

“Thanks,” I grunt.

“Nice meeting you?” Her words sound more like a question.

“Same,” I mutter, in case she’s friends with Riley. I’m not here to make things worse for her. “Which way is the library?” I ask the girl, not wanting to waste any more time finding my Riley.

“Make a right out of that door, and it's straight down the hall on the right,” the girl directs me.

“Appreciate the help.” I follow her directions, heading out the door that she pointed to. I felt every single person's eyes on me in that room. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. None of that kiddie shit bothers me.

Most of these people will never have to experience the real world. Their father's wealth will shield them from the harsh realities of life. People like them are dangerous in different ways.

I continue walking until I find the library. It's marked by a plaque on the wall and two ornate doors. I’m not sure why the school needs a new one, but I’m sure Matteo spared no expense to get me into this place. I push the doors open and scan the room. I don’t see Riley initially, so I walk in. The sound of my footsteps echoes in the silence. A few heads pop up, and their eyes widen at the sight of me. Still no Riley.

It’s not until I turn the corner that I see a flash of red. I know without a doubt that’s my girl. I could spot her from a mile away. She has her head down, tucked into a corner. Why isn’t she in the lunchroom? I know Riley loves to read, but she can do that while she eats.

I don’t know if she can sense me, but she lifts her head, our eyes locking. Riley’s mouth forms a perfect O shape in surprise at seeing me. Despite her glasses covering her beautiful eyes, I don't miss the redness in them.

Sorry, Matteo, but someone is going to die. Scratch that. I won't be sorry. Not one fucking bit.

10

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