Page 17 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

Too many students have gotten lost in those woods, most of their bodies never recovered. Those that were? Hardly recognizable once the wild animals out there had finished with them.

Trust Apollo to charm his way into being allowed to spend the day out there. He hasn’t even been here the longest. This is my second year at Saint Amos. Apollo graduated last year, and Reuben and Cassius will be graduating this year.

We made sure not to arrive at Saint Amos in the same year. We couldn’t risk anyone piecing together the fact we knew each other. That’s why we’ve always kept our relationship on a need to know basis.

A dry chuckle escapes my lips. “Fuck my life.”

“I’d rather fuck her.”

My eyes snap back to Cassius. “Not a chance. You don’t go near her until we know who she is.”

Something flickers over Cass’s face, but it’s gone before I know what it means.

“Don’t fuck her.” I narrow my eyes at him. “In fact, don’t evenlookat her.”

“Aye, aye, Boss.” He gives me a mock salute before leaving my classroom as surreptitiously as he entered.

My muscles loosen, but not as much as they should. If my brothers are all as restless and uneasy as Cassius, then we could be facing disaster.

But he’s right—we’re running out of time. And this girl could be no one…or the person who causes this web to unravel. A web we’ve been building for years.

My ankle throbs, but I ignore it this time.

I’m stronger now. My body doesn’t have full control over me anymore.

But I don’t have full control over my mind.

It was a tradeoff I was happy to make. One we’ve all made at some point in our journey.

That’s why we stuck together. That’s why we formed our brotherhood of revenge.

Alone, we were nothing but prey.

Together, we’ve become the ultimate predator.

Sister Stella gives me a warm smile when I step through the door to the administration office that afternoon. While Saint Amos only has two female teachers, all of the administration staff are women. Students’ grades, school supplies, and everything else the school needs to run are handled from the cluster of offices on the east wing of the school’s main building.

Framed by her black-and-white habit, only the center of Sister Stella’s face is visible.

“Good afternoon, brother. Something I can help with?” she asks, rising from her desk.

Saint Amos has telephone lines and electricity, but everything looks like it’s from the 1960s. No computers. No internet. And since the telephone lines are down more often than they work, everyone relies on their cellphones to maintain contact with the outside world.

When there’s service, of course.

Certain places on campus don’t get any service, like the libraries nestled deep in the disused catacombs.

Originally a church, all of the original buildings remain intact. When this place became an orphanage, the catacombs were used as an infirmary. These days, it houses the library. Unconventional, since the classrooms are a good fifteen-minute walk away, but more cost-effective than building a new structure. In fact, the low, squat building housing the classes is the newest structure on the property.

“I’d like to take a look at Trinity Malone’s transcripts, if she has any. May I see her file?”

Sister Stella widens her eyes at me, and gives her head a tiny shake. “I’m sorry, brother, I only requested it this morning. We didn’t even know she was coming until the provost mentioned it after prayers.”

“That’s strange,” I say, resting my elbows on the reception desk and leaning in a little. “Why was no one notified?”

Stella shrugs. “Perhaps it slipped the provost’s mind. He’s under a lot of stress at the moment, what with?—”

“Yes, I understand.” I shouldn’t have interrupted her—I’m supposed to be the kind of person who cares deeply about Father Gabriel’s state of mind.

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