Page 2 of Kings Against the World

I laugh without even thinking if it’ll seem rude. Shaking my head, I take a step back. “Definitely lost if I’m at the FBI table. My bad.”

“Would you like a brochure?” the woman asks. “We’re currently recruiting for the academy. Minimum age is twenty-two, so you have a ways, but if you’re interested, we can takeyour name as a potential future candidate. Then you can send your submission package while you’re in univer?—”

“Right,” I laugh. “Sure. Sorry, but I’ll pass.”

I don’t even give the woman a real goodbye as I spin on my heel and walk off.

It’s another twenty damn minutes before I’m able to drag Gia and Aubrey away from the career booths. But by the time I do, it’s too late to ditch. The bell rings and the lunch period begins.

“Sorry, Zoe,” Aubrey says. “But I got some good info on Pomona’s General’s Intern-to-RN program. You should check it out.”

His suggestion goes ignored. Same for Gia when she tries to tell me all about how the cosmetologists encouraged her to apply to the school in the area.

“They said I could get my certification in a year!” Gia says, eyes round and excited. “Then maybe work at somebody else’s salon and get my own some day!”

Their plans, theiroptimismannoys me.

Mostly ’cuz I’m running on empty myself.

I have no hope. No bright thoughts about the future.

All I see when I look to tomorrow is more envelopes with ‘PAST DUE’ stamped across the back in red ink. The only thing I hear are the fists banging on our door demanding Dad show his face and address the thousands he owes loan sharks.

I think about how my credit’s already fucked up and I’m not even sixteen yet. Thanks to all the credit cards they’ve taken out in my name, I’m deep in debt.

I don’t stand a chance and everybody knows it.

Zaniyah might make it out of the shithole Mom and Dad have dug us into, but it’s too late for me…

Fifth period P.E. comes, and I groan when I find out we’ll be playing intergender volleyball. I should’ve skipped after all, even if it meant doing it without Gia and Aubrey.

Freshmen boys are disgusting pigs.

All high school guys are, but it’s like the freshmen think they’re extra big and bad ’cuz they’re high schoolers now.

They catcall. They crack gross jokes and laugh. They make obscene gestures about the girls with big chests.

I keep my arms folded over mine as I stride past a group of them on the blacktop. Gia’s with me and they sound like dogs practically panting at us.

“Remind me to wear my sweats next time,” she murmurs.

“This whole thing is dumb,” I snap. “Why do we even have to play with them anyway? Why do we have to play this stupid game at all? Who gives a shit about volleyball?”

She eyes me head to toe with eyebrows raised. “You’re full of sunshine and sparkles today. Who pissed in your cheerios this morning?”

I can’t bring myself to answer.

My bad mood continues through the volleyball game until we’re halfway done and the score’s close. Despite being moody and hating everything about high school at this point, it doesn’t mean I’m not competitive.

I’m naturally athletic. I once played basketball and ran track ’til I gave up on that too when it became too expensive and Dad used the money for gambling tournaments.

As the ball soars through the air toward my team, I leap to meet it with a hard swat of my palm. It bounces back over the wide net for the other team to counter.

Those on defense fail to act in time and the ball touches the asphalt.

“Yes!” I scream with a triumphant fist.

“Good one, Strauss!” calls the team captain.

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