Page 79 of Delinquent (Academy of Misfits 1)

“Once the guy?” I say, scuffing some pebbles with my toe.

“Yeah, once the guy. I can’t be Bling anymore. I can only be Camden: leader of the Hackney’s Hackers, the most feared gang in London. That’s who I am now. That’s who I have to be to survive… There is no other way.”

I nod, understanding that he’s bound by the rules of the street just as much as I am, but knowing there’s something far more significant in what he isn’t telling me, perhaps can’t tell me. “That’s why you turn a blind eye to what Monk has done because you have to be this person everyone expects?”

Camden draws on the joint once more, inhaling deeply then holding his breath. When he blows out his whole body seems to relax, the drug spreading out into the extremities of his limbs, making him languid. He lies back, looking up at the sky.

“The first time when he jumped you, I honestly had no idea. The second time when he stole your sketchpad, when he ransacked your room, I found out too late. He’s made me look a fool, Asia, and I have to rectify that. When you get to my position you cannot be viewed as weak. Monk is making a mockery of me.Youare making a mockery of me whether you intend to or not. It’s gotta stop.”

“I have no control over Monk. I’m only reacting to him.”

“I know that.” He scrapes a hand over his face, rubbing at the stubble on his chin.

“So what do I do? I’m in an impossible position.”

“You beat Monk. You join my crew. Then and only then will it be over…”

He rests his hand on the blanket mere inches from mine but doesn’t try to inch closer or kiss me like he had before. Instead, he studies the water just the same as I do, trying to make sense of the world we live in and the rules we must follow to survive.

Getting to my feet, I look at his tag high on the cliff face then back to Camden. “I’ll beat Monk. I’ll prove that I’m not a victim or a pushover once and for all…”

“But…”

“But, I will never join your crew,” I say quietly.

“I know that too.” He nods his head once then turns his face away looking back out to sea. I walk away from him, from the artist I admired once and the guy on the other side of the line wishing, not for the first time, that life wasn’t so fucking difficult.

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