Page 31 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson
At first, Hudson’s expression suggested he was shocked to see me. Then it twisted into something else, sending a ripple effect through my gut. It was almost like the thumbs up / thumbs down gesture that signalled live or die in the movie Gladiator. And I had been given a clear thumbs down—and in front of a cafeteriafullof students,swarmsof kids; a sea of unfamiliar faces. I imagined Hudson was popular, and I was a nobody. Either that or the guy wasn’t all there?
Great.
I wasreelingand found it difficult to process. The way Hudson had walked away, the muscles in his neck flexing, was borderline aggressive. His too-cool-for-school posture had filled the entire space. I was surprised he hadn’tshovedpast me like I had feared he would. He was so strong that I would have fallen instead of just my dinner tray. I also didn’t appreciate how his friends had tried to intimidate me.
I wildly flipped my head towards the doorway they had left through. What did he say about sucking his cock? OMG, my face must have been bright red.
“Out of my way,new girl,” he’d snapped. The way he said ‘new girl’ was like a curse. Then he’d left the cafeteria with his entourage, students scattering out of his way like terrified birds at the sight of a cat.
He said something about his brothers, but I doubted that would have been those guys with him. They lookednothingalike, and one was black, so go figure.
Even Storm looked shocked. “Oh dear. That doesn’t bode well,” she’d whispered, stepping away. The girl looked at me like I was suddenly contagious. She did not attempt to help me collect my dinner from the floor either.
“What do you mean?” I questioned, attempting to recover from Hudson’s contempt as I straightened.
What had I done?
“You’ve just been sentenced, I’m afraid. Our fearless leader has made his decision. Well done, day one and you’re already on the shit list, although I must say being who you are, you had it coming.” She said the latter sentence almost to herself.
What thehellwas the girl banging on about? What fearless leader? Hudson?
“Look, I’ve done my bit now. You know the drill. Have a nice life. Ta ta.” Storm then breezed away, leaving me standing at the edge of the lunch queue with a ‘what the fuck’ expression on my face.
It felt like a scene from the movie Mean Girls. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the popular girl quitting after I’d been reduced to a social pariah in two minutes flat; howpredictable. Knocking my lunch tray down my front was also a dick move. Why the heck were there never any teachers about when that sort of shit happened. The dinner ladies hadn’t paid any notice at all to the attack on my person.
After chucking my ruined lunch in the bin, I shuffled back towards the counter. I kept my head down and away from the direction Hudson had left. Talk about heat. The other two burly boys had flanked their leader as they had strode over, all watching me with that same expression.
Butterflies were still raving in my stomach. Where was the boy that I met in the library only hours earlier?
And then it sank in, like fingernailsdigginginto my skin.
He didn’t know who you were. And now he does.
The only positive feelings I’d had since moving to America that previous week had been with that one boy, and now, they were gone, cruellyrippedaway, possibly because of my father’s position at the school.
Hudson’s face had dropped when our eyes clashed across the lunchroom. His entire frame pulled taut as aggressionrolledoff him. We’d stood closer in the library, but when he’d stalked over, he appeared larger, like a big,threateninggiant.
His face said that he hated me. And from the expression on the faces of his friends, so did they.
My mother was a teacher at my last school before she died, and so I was used to people being mean because I had a parent who was on the staff. But my father was in an even higher position as the Head of this school, a man who rubbed students the wrong way. Would I be bullied there, too? Was my fresh start ruinedalready?
As Hudson and his pack flashed before my eyes. I swallowed a lump of fear. I imaginedtheirlevel of bullying would amount to more than writing shit about you in the toilets, social media shaming, or giving you a wedgy.
Misery bled into me as I smiled weakly at the staff behind the counter. My appetite had vanished, but I bought a ham sandwich, knowing I neededsomethingto get me through my next lesson—gym class.
It was all downhill from then on. I was about as athletic as a banana as I attempted to grasp the reality of dodgeball. The answer was in the name, of course. In a nutshell, fellow students full of bloodlust threw ballsas hard as they couldat your head, and you had to make sure they didn’t hit you.
The balls were spongy, but getting caught in the face was no picnic.
I became friendly with a boy on my team called Mark Roberts, and I subtly asked him questions about Hudson and his cronies.
It turned out that the boys who had been with him at lunchwerehis brothers, odd, even the black guy. When I questioned this, Mark said they were foster brothers, which made more sense. I filed away their names: Phoenix Carter and Micah Mehari (I vaguely remembered meeting the black guy Micah in the hall with Storm). Mark also explained that there was another brother called Reed Prescott. But he hadn’t been in the lunchroom.
They were known as the Sawyer Brothers, having been fostered by a lady called Bethany, aka Ma Sawyer, since their early teens.
From what Mark said, Hudson Gage was the leader of the pack.
Feeling extra sweaty, I gathered my bags, said goodbye to Mark and a couple of girls on ourlosingteam, and left.
