Page 32 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson
Mark explained that the smaller gym was used for dodgeball, netball, and tennis, but the main sports were held in a large, purpose-built leisure centre at the back of the school. I remember seeing that building from the bleachers on the other side of the football field.
I steeled my spine as I went into the main corridor towards the lobby. Storm was a senior, and I guessed Hudson and his brothers would be too. They were older, so, in theory, I probably wouldn’t run into themeveryday. When it came to Hudson, that thought made me feel sad, even though he’d just treated me like shit before the entire student body.
After a lame day, I wanted to return to my father’s house and lick my wounds.
When I came to America, I told myself I would no longer be a victim, and I needed to stick with that plan; find some strength after my mother’s death. Make her proud, as she looked down on me from heaven.
Although it wasn’t what I had wanted, this was my life now and the perfect chance for a fresh start.
I refused to screw it up over something so silly. Thatsomething so sillywas thinking I’d had a connection with a boy like Hudson. An almost love at first sight scenario? What a load of crap. I was clearlystillvulnerable.
You can do it.Mum’s voice whispered in my memory as I left the school and went to stand in the car park (or parking ‘lot’ as Dad had called it—weird).
The bell went, and the school started to haemorrhage kids of all shapes, sizes, colours, and cliques.
They were wired after finishing their first day after the holidays. How I wished I had their energy.
Eventually, after waiting twenty minutes outside, my father pulled up in his Toyota. Dad’s expression was warm and friendly. It thawed part of the frostiness I’d felt.
The conversation in the car on the way home flowed quite well. We had something in common now, as we’d spent the day in the same place, so we spoke about school.
When we got to the house, I went to my room for a shower. My father said he was low on groceries. He didn’t cook much, and we went out to eat. Something we had done many times since I had arrived there.
We went to Lang's bowling alley, which was within walking distance.
Dad chose BBQ ribs, and I ordered a garden burger, aka salad in a bun. I had seen Bella Swan, a character in the Twilight movie, order it and always wondered what it was. Funny, the things you remember.
Halfway through our meal, I saw the girl who had bumped into Storm and me that day. She was with a group of boys and girls who wore different uniforms to the Harbor Heights one. I wondered which school they went to.
As she laughed at what a tall boy with dark hair had said, our eyes locked, and I remembered her name: Harper. The group she was with was small, and they were playing video games and joking around.
Harper’s expression showed she was uncertain of me, so I smiled warmly. After a second or two, she did the same, her eyes lighting up, and we both gave each other a little, unsure wave. Storm had said she was a sophomore, which meant she was a grade below me. That would mean she was fifteen going on sixteen.
My father drew my attention away as he asked if I wanted another soda. Fuck, would I ever get used to Americanisms?
As I watched Harper gather her bag, clearly going to leave, I had a niggling feeling. I remember Storm telling me her name after she’d called the girl arunt.
But why did I get the feeling I’d heard the name Harperbeforethat?
SIX
HUDSON
“I’m starving.”
“You’realwaysstarving,” I scoffed, lowering myself into my chair.
It was supper time, and we were in the dining room at home. The lady we saw as our mother, Ma, had cooked what smelled like the finest meal I’d eaten in days. I’d spent a huge portion of the summer working, and usually, my shifts resulted in missing mealtimes.
“How was your first day back at school, boys? Have you worn out your lunch card already, Reed?” Ma chuckled as we all sat down that evening.
He grinned and shook his head. Reed used it so much last year that it wouldn’t scan anymore. He had to pay for a replacement. “Not yet, Ma, but I’m working on it.”
Drawing my gaze away, I glanced around the table at my brothers, my chest swelling with pride.
I enjoyed eating as a family. It wasn’t something I’d done with my biological parents. For Ma Sawyer and us boys, it was a ritual. Life was so fast-paced that we didn’t get to eat at the table every day but on a Monday, after the weekend; we ate heartily and shot the shit.
“So, any first-day gossip?” Ma questioned as she started circulating the assorted food bowls she’d brought in from the kitchen. Reed and Micah helped her as Nix and I passed around the cutlery.
