Page 13 of Dirty Tricks

If I should kill him or thank him.

If it were clear, I could act, the same way I always act against those who upset Lexa. After a month spent punishing the tiniest infraction, the student body seemed to get the message. Maybe not consciously, but even before Finn tucked her under his wing, they were keeping their distance, showing her due respect.

They gave her the space to blossom like I knew she would, handing her the confidence to make friends.

Much as I’d love Finn to stick his head in a woodchipper, I’m trying hard to respect her choices. I don’t want to undercut her confidence the way I saw him do tonight, but now I’m struggling to remember why I drew that line.

It should benefit her to have someone bigger and stronger as her companion. Another protector, but this one a man fit to be seen by her side.

That’s what I tell myself.

What I’vebeentelling myself.

Now I’m sick to think that by letting her have her choice, I might be enabling her abuse, and what does that make me?

I’m holding myself so tightly that when my phone rings in my hands, I jump and give a cry, almost dropping it.

The call’s from my mother. I tug off my mask, so my words won’t be muffled. “Hey, what’s up?”

She gives a nervous giggle, something she always does on the phone no matter who she’s talking to or what the call is about. “I found a new flat for a hundred less a week. We’ll be out in New Brighton.”

“Sounds great.”

Another laugh. “Hold off on the praise until you see the place, but yeah. I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

As Mum launches into a detailed description of every feature, I close my eyes, relaxing. In the two months since she left the women’s shelter, she’s struggled to find a new rental that matches her reduced income.

Unable to risk a return to her old workplace, she downgraded from a supervisor at a large department store to a checkout operator at a busy supermarket. She comes home run ragged after every shift, but at least she’s not looking over her shoulder all the time. The protective order the police issued might sound fancy, but it’ll do nothing to stop my stepfather if he tracks her again.

I turn my entire salary over to her and scrounge whatever food and equipment I can from the school, but with rental prices still soaring, it’s been difficult to find a place within our means.

“Will you be okay with the commute?” she asks once her enthusiastic summary comes to a halt.

“It’ll be fine,” I assure her, not knowing if it’s true. “If I need to, I’ll continue stopping here for a few nights each week. Keep me out of your hair.”

During her four-week stay in the shelter, I got used to camping at the school. Much as my invisibility can be aggravating day-to-day, it comes with advantages.

I can grab food from the cafeteria each day and sleep in the outdoor equipment shed each night, showering in the gym bathrooms. The janitorial staff role gives me access to most of the school and no one on the faculty has ever caught me.

Some of those nights were spent asleep under Lexa’s bed, protecting her from unknown evils.

When my mother asks me where I go, I’m truthful, to a point. I know she appreciates having time alone while she heals from the latest trauma doled out by my stepfather.

While I have no intention of leaving her defenceless by moving out entirely, I appreciate the space, too.

“Do you want to get takeaways tomorrow, to celebrate?”

I wriggle my shoulders clear of the sleeping bag, staring at the workbench. One of the red hockey masks perches there, stolen from the cardboard box in the common room while the three students in there stared blindly past me.

From the conversation in Lexa’s room this afternoon, I know Finn will wear one to the Halloween party tomorrow evening.

He’s slim and far prettier than any boy needs to be. I’m broader but we’re the same height, we have the same hair colour. If I wear something loose-fitting, use a modulator to disguise my voice, nobody will know a different boy hides under the disguise.

“How about Sunday, instead?” I suggest. “There’s a Halloween party tomorrow.”

“You’re going to a party?”

Mum’s voice instantly brightens. It’s been a long time since she mentioned anything, but I know she worries about me not making friends. Not having a life besides home and my job.

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