Page 12 of The Venom We Bleed

Long reads me clear as fucking day because the second she looks at my face, she burst out laughing. “Yeah, kiddo,” she replies, wiping one finger beneath her eyes even as she ignores my earlier demand. “Cory warned me you’d need one. Thanks for that—I lost our little bet.”

“Cory?” She knew Cory? What the hell did my gym’s owner have to do with Principal Long?

She smirks and leans down. I’m not super short, but I’m certainly no five-foot-ten model like she is. “Keep up the training,” she says, lowering her voice. “If you’re gonna make it through a senior year here, you’ll need it.” With that, she straightens, nods to Roquel, and turns around to walk away.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Seconds tick by and then Roquel pops around my side and leans closer. “You ready to go?” she asks.

I’m ready to move towns and change identities, but short of winning the lottery, I have no more money and no way to leave Silverwood. I’d sleep in my car if I could, but I sold that to be able to afford the rent and utilities on my new apartment and pad the money I’m relying on until I can get a part-time job.

“Yeah.” I blow out a breath. “I’m ready.”

“Great!” she chimes. “So, like Principal Long said, I’m Roquel and I guess I’m your school guide now. Do you have your schedule already?”

Without a word, I reach into my bag and pull out the crinkled schedule I printed off at the local library the weekprior. She snatches it from my hand and holds it up to her face, squinting her already slenderly shaped eyes as she reads.

“‘Kay, so it looks like you have homeroom with me,” she says, pointing to the classroom she’d just been called out of. “So, remember this place, ‘cause this is where you have to show up every morning.”

“Got it.” My foot starts tapping.

“Let’s see what else you’ve got here…” Roquel drifts off and then releases a slow whistle. “Damn, your shit is packed. No study hall or anything?” She glances up at me.

“I want to graduate early,” I say. The sooner I graduate, the sooner I can apply to a college and potentially get accepted for either an early semester or a summer program.

She clicks her tongue, popping a smaller bubble of gum with her teeth. “Yeah, well, if you can manage to keep up with these classes then you probably will.” Her eyes scan the paper some more and in a quieter tone, she mutters, “Or at least you’ll only be here for like an hour or two second semester.” She shrugs. “Lots of the smart ones end up doing that and working overtime to earn money before they’re completely on their own.”

I don’t feel the need to respond as she turns and starts walking, taking my schedule with her. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour of Silverwood Public and then point out all your classes. First period will last for another thirty minutes, so you should be able to make second period without an issue.”

To my surprise, there’s no animosity in her tone. She makes it to the end of the hall before she realizes I’m not with her, and when she does, she stops and looks back, waiting for me. “You coming?”

I eye her yet again, but if she’s not going to ask questions then I’m not going to encourage her to. I pull my bag onto my back and stride towards her. “Lead the way.”

Roquel does just that. Though slightly shorter than me, Roquel’s legs pick up speed as she walks. “That’s the freshman hall—the sophomore hall—junior hall—library is up the stairs.” Roquel gestures as she moves, looking up from my schedule as we move through the school. “Chem labs are down this way—you’ve got that fifth period,” she states as we turn a corner and pass a row of empty pinboards anchored to the hallway walls.

Unlike Silverwood Prep, Silverwood Public isn’t as well maintained. Though clean, there are portions of walls with peeling paint, scuffs on the cheap tiled floor, and mysterious stains on the ceilings that I’d rather not think about.

We’re about fifteen minutes into the tour when I think it finally dawns on this girl that I haven’t said a word in more than half that time. She slows to a stop at the mouth of one of the hallways and turns back to me. I pause, too, as her eyes travel up from my once-clean sneakers to my jeans and then up to my face.

She tilts her head to the side. “You don’t like me, do you?”

“I don’t know you enough to dislike you.”

Roquel sighs. “I thought you’d be more stuck up—complaining about the lack of facilities and shit—but I guess after everything that’s happened, I’m not too surprised by the attitude.”

“What do you mean?”

She turns back towards the hallway and starts walking again. This time though, she lowers her hand and folds up my schedule before tucking it into her back pocket. I’ll have to remember to get that back from her—I’d rather not have to catch another public bus to the library if I can help it, and with how things are going so far with teachers, I’m not entirely sure I’ll be able to print it off again here at the school.

“You know,” Roquel says, completely ignoring my question. “It would be better for you to at least try to be nice while you’re here. They say you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

“I’m not trying to catch anyone,” I reply tartly. Who the fuck is this girl?

Roquel ignores my statement and continues. “Public can be pretty rough if you don’t have any friends.”

Is she offering to be my friend? I blanch. “What makes you think I want to make friends?” The only reason I’m even in school is because it’s my last resort to get the fuck out of Silverwood. If I don’t graduate then any hope of escaping to a decent college is gone.

Her short black hair shifts as she looks over her shoulder at me, and her lips twitch. “A princess from Silverwood Prep in a public school?” She snorts to herself. “Yeah, they’ll eat you alive if you don’t have anyone to back you up—whether you realize it or not, girl, you totally need some friends that’ll back you up.”

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