The Opposite of Lined Paper

Venganza

"So far so good," I think aloud. I'm almost home from school and I haven't run in to Johnnie and the gang. Or anyone else for that matter. Not even the other walkers that ignore me but are amusing to watch.

Them and their 'friends' and 'relationships' and what they were doing next Saturday. Who wasn't invited and for what reasons. I've never understood why people get boyfriends and girlfriends, or friends at all for that matter, in high school. You're going to move one with life, soon going separate ways. Calling everyday and texting nonstop will soon turn into a text here and there maybe two, three times a month, and eventually the person will leave almost completely from your memory. Only to be thought about at nostalgic moments at Christmas parties and high school reunion invitations that you won't have time to attend because, after all, you have your own life to take care of.

For the first time in a long time, I allow myself to think about what will happen to Frank and I after high school. Most of the time I get completely enthralled in it, forgetting that there's life after high school.

Just then, I see what (or who in this case) is the last thing/person I want to see. Johnnie McCormick and his complete entourage, )which happens to be about 5 other guys who could all probably amount to one person with their combined IQs,) standing at the corner of my street on the edge of the woods, waiting to drag me in and turn me into a liquid.

I'm screwed. Maybe there actually isn't life after high school for me. I'll never get to kiss a girl, let alone fall in love and marry one, or get a nine to five job that I'll hate, but I'll put up with because no one else will accept me- but my thoughts were delightfully interrupted by a police cruiser slowing between my predators and their preferred prey.

"Is there something going on here boys?" The cop said getting out of her car. Yes her car. She was pretty. Looked to be of Latin descent with her sun kissed skin, slight Spanish lilt to her voice, and chocolate brown hair pulled back into the tight bun as all female law officers did.

Not that I'm staring. I just notice things. Kind of like the shade of red Johnnie's face turned when he saw her and how he stuttered when he said, "N-no nothing, m-ma'am."
Wow. Ma'am. What are we? Hicks from Texas? Nope, apparently just good old fashion suck ups. And I'm not sure which is better.

"Any particular reason you boys been sitting around looking bored out of your minds all until he got here?" She questions, pointing at me. I could practically feel their mouths drying out and palms beginning to sweat. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Now go home, and I better not see you near him again." She said, putting her hand on her gun for emphasis with a smirk.

I have never seen Johnnie and his clan run away from something, or someone for that matter, that fast. Ever. I'm going to presume that the officer meant for me to go home too. I start on my way, keeping my head down as always, and start to go around the back of her car.

"Not so fast, kid." Her Spanish roots obviously mixing with the Jersey lingo. Crap, now I'll have to explain some form of a variation of my story to yet another person.

"I'm Officer Venganza, and you are?"

"Hayden. Hayden Peak."

"Well alright then Hayden Peak, I'm not going to ask you if they've been giving you a problem, because obviously they have. Listen, I'm new in town and I'm actually going to be relieving Officer Kennedy in your school. You do go to Belleville High, correct?"

"Yes."

"Would I be correct in assuming he doesn't do much?"

"Nope. Not much of anything at all." I agree.

"Alright well I'm going to change that. I'm going to do my best to keep students under control at Belleville high but if they bother you outside of school you just call this number or tell me in school." She says, with a gleam in her eyes, pulling a card out of one of her pockets and handing it to me.

I nod my head and shove the card in my hoodie pocket, knowing I won't actually use it. I'll just throw it on the pile of everyone who'd given me their card, claiming they 'just want to help.' That pile being in the trash.

"Would you like a ride home?" She says, pulling me out of his thoughts.

"No, I live four houses down. I'll be fine, thanks."

"Alright, I'll let you get home then. Your parents are probably wondering where you are. Remember what I said about the card. I mean it. Call anytime." She said with a sincere expression on her face.

I nod my head and continue the way I was going around the back end of the car, and onto the sidewalk. I hear her get back in her vehicle and drive off. It'd be nice to not have to constantly look over my shoulder at school, but I know there is nothing she'll be able to do. No matter how much she tries, all she'll be able to do is maybe subdue them for a week or two and then they'll be back at it, finding ways to get to him that she either won't see or lose interest in trying to keep them at bay.

I stop on the sidewalk standing in front of my house and look into it. From the outside it looks like a normal house as long as you don't pay too much attention to the shadows dancing on the drawn shades and the yelling that's almost always present as well as the ever present stench of alcohol mixed with the general BO of my loser father. Though the inside was very different from the outside if you didn't pay that much attention.

I enter my house through the front door, at my father's request. I tried to go in the back once and he almost shot me for fear he was a robber. As to why someone would rob a house in broad daylight with people in it I still don't know but I would much rather the daily beating as opposed to possibly being shot and an extra gruesome thrashing if I didn't receive a bullet.

I close the door behind me without a sound. My father isn't in sight, and if he was sleeping, I want him to stay that way.

"Oh, Hayden dear, your father's sleeping why don't you go on up to your room and start on your homework." My mother says aloud. I love the way my mother says my name. Always giving each syllable the appropriate amount of attention and emphasis.

You see, my mom and I have a code. If she pretends everything is perfect and all my father is doing is sleeping off a hangover, then that usually means the extreme opposite. With a stern look straight into my eyes, I know that this was one of the times where I need to get to my room as fast as possible and escape through the window.

"How long?" I say, barely a whisper.

"A few days at least. There's a bag on your bed with some clothes and food that should last about three." My mother replies worriedly.

I pull her into a tight, but hasty hug saying, "I'll get us out of this somehow, I promise."

"I know, I know you will but your really have to go now. Go off to wherever that place is that you go to."

"Mom it's-" I almost tell her where it is. I don't want her worrying about me any more than she has to.

"No," she cuts me off, "it's better if I don't know where it is. You've told me it's safe there, and I believe you, now please go. I'll text you when it's safe to come back."

And with that, I make my way to my room as quickly as I can while still remaining silent. I pass the bag on my bed, open the window, pop out the screen, toss the bag gently out the window, jump out, and replace the screen. Knowing my mother would be in momentarily to close the window, I start on my way back to my house in the woods. I hope I get there before dark. My house is a lot closer to school than it is to my house. Not that I mind the walk. Gives me more time to think. Now this could be a good thing or a bad thing. I guess I'll find out.