Page 8 of Ruin
“Morning.”
“Principal Kenting will be with you shortly; he’s just finishing up another meeting. You can have a seat while you wait.”
“No thanks.”
I walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, feeling her eyes on me. People always stare at me, and I don’t understand why. They aren’t unfamiliar with me and the MC. There are enough of us who walk around in our cuts with a shit ton of tattoos. Just because I have a little more than the rest of them doesn’t make me more of a sideshow to look at. Though I’m used to the stares, it doesn’t stop me from feeling them and forcing myself to ignore them. Not understanding people is another normal for me. It’s gotten easier to accept over time, but still annoys me on most days.
I look out at the empty football field. I’m not sure why they spent so much money building it, when the school doesn’t have enough kids to make a team. The high school only has about sixty graduating kids a year, sometimes less and rarely more. Not all of them are from Pinehaven, either. Some of the surrounding towns send their kids here because they think it’s better due to it being smaller. I think it’s shit and people should move as far away as possible. All they do is graduate and move on to farm land like the rest of this godforsaken place. Every few years, someone will escape. That’s what we should be celebrating.
There are a handful of kids out there now, running around the track. It must be training for something because school ended a few weeks ago. Maybe they’re starting a new track team. I guess there are enough kids for that. It doesn’t require much skill. You just need legs, I guess.
“Hey, good morning, Snapper.”
I glance over my shoulder at Mr. Kenting who walks into the room with a thick folder under his arm.
“Morning.”
“Come on,” he says with a smile as he waits by his office door.
He’s one of the nicer guys in town. Doesn’t give us shit, and I hear the kids like him. He’s fine working with us for the charity events, but maybe that’s because he’s getting something out of it while not having to give anything in return, other than a few meetings and signatures.
Most of the shops in town don’t mind helping out because it’s for the town. That’s what our charity events are for—making the town better and helping the kids or families in need. But there are some businesses who would rather us leave them alone and do their own thing, the greedy fucking twats.
“Have a seat,” Mr. Kenting says as he moves around his desk and drops the folder onto the desk with a loud plop. He loosens his tie. “You don’t mind a little informality, right, Snapper? I hate these things.” He chuckles and I stare at him.
When he sits, he flips open the folder. “Okay, I’ve got everything you dropped off. We have the date finalized and Janet is finishing up the map. Once that’s done and approved by me, we will make copies and start dropping them off. I see the list of businesses who are providing things. We’ll just need to follow up on—”
Knocking on the door pulls both our attention. When I look over my shoulder, my blood runs cold.
Him.
There he is, standing in the doorway looking better than ever. His hair is a little more grey than I remember but just as thick. His skin is more tan, like he’s spent the last few years in the sun. Those eyes are exactly the same, piercing blue like the ocean around a tropical island. He’s dressed in an expensive grey suit, crisp white shirt, and blood red tie which is not at all surprising—looking good is his specialty.
But what the fuck is he doing here?
If he’s surprised to see me, he doesn’t show it, and that only serves to piss me off.
“Oh, Mr. Carter.” The principal stands up, moving around the desk and offering his hand. “I didn’t expect you for the meeting today.”
I can’t pull my eyes away from him, and it almost feels like he’s purposely not looking at me, though I’d bet my left nut he can see me perfectly.
“I got into town sooner than expected, and recalled you had mentioned the meeting. Figured I would stop in.”
“What are you doing here?” falls out of my mouth bitterly.
That causes his gaze to drop to me. Along with Mr. Kenting’s who looks confused but also a little nervous.
Like how dare I insult Lucian Carter.
Fuck Lucian Carter.
“Mr. Carter is being celebrated at the charity event. Weren’t you aware?”
“No,” I grit out. “Which I find highly offensive considering I’m planning the fucking thing.”
He clears his throat, looking around nervously. “Yes, he is the one who funded the rebuild of the school. We thought it was a good time to celebrate with it being the ten year anniversary and an opportunity to better the school even further.”
Funded the rebuild of the school? How did I not know this? I know everything about this town. It’s my job to know everything about this town, especially things like this. How did that slip by me? Had I known and chose to ignore it? No, I didn’t know about this.
