Chapter 13

NOAH

"For the last time, Mr. Garcia," Ms. Thompson glared at me. She was in the middle of grading book reports in a classroom. "If you want to pass my class and God help us, graduate, you have to make seventy-five percent of your final grades; you were supposed to turn in your essay on Robert Frost."

"I know that," I replied, lifting a brow as she stroked a neat F on a report without reading it. "I mean, if you could bump me up to a C minus, that would make me very happy, Amanda."

I drew a finger down her arm, flashing my best smile. She maintained a glare through her cat-like glasses. "How about I work on some extra credit assignments? I promise to make it good."

Amanda's cheek turned red, and she smiled. "Okay." She ran her blue eyes over me. "I'll see you later tonight."

"You bet," I winked and walked out of the classroom.

Sometimes, the best way to charm a teacher was knowing the right buttons to push. Even though Amanda was a bitch, she broke whenever I flirted with her... and did some favors.

Everything about high school sucked.

What I wanted was to get away from the smelly hallways, the crappy kids—

"Garcia!" A low voice growled. The crackheads. He grabbed the back of my collar and slammed me to a locker, till I stood face to face with a pissed-off Luke Harlow. "Been looking everywhere for you."

Damn, I forgot I owed Luke a couple of oxytocin pills.

"I'm touched." I replied, smelling the pot in his breath. He let me go, but only because Mr. Chang, our history teacher, was walking by.

"Where's my money, Noah?" Luke sneered.

I shut my eyes. "Listen—"

"Screw you; I'm done listening," Luke said, poking my chest hard.

"The cops caught us on the highway; I had to lose the stash otherwise, it's juvie."

"Didn't figure you for chickenshit." Luke replied. "Hand it over."

I swore and took out the few hundred bucks in my wallet. Luke grabbed everything, counted, and held up a twenty.

"I'm holding on to this as a bonus because you took too long," Luke said, shoving the bills into his pocket. "And because you fucked my girl, now I can't fucking look at her because you dipped your wick in her."

I rolled my eyes. "Trust me, she's for the streets."

I caught Luke's fist before it connected to my face, grabbed his upper arm, and slammed him to the locker. Gasps from the other students rose.

"Are they like, seriously fighting at school?" A girl asked.

Luke glared at me and started forward.

Suddenly, Tommy leapt in between us.

"Watch it, man," Tommy warned. He was bigger than Luke. "Unless you want to get suspended—again."

"You're so pathetic, Noah," Luke spat, stepping away from Tommy like a coward. "Playing pretend family with these low lives."

His words stung harder than I gave credit for.

"Ever wonder why Papi walked away, si hombre?" Luke taunted.

"That's enough; get your racist ass out of here." Tommy warned.

Luke shot Tom a dirty look before walking off.

I was already on my way in the other direction; I wanted something to punch. If we were outside, I wouldn't have held back.

"Noah, wait up!" Tommy called after me as I climbed down the stairwell to the downstairs.

"Get lost, Kent." I snapped.

Tommy leaped in front of me as we reached downstairs.

"Look, besides that guy being high on crack," Tommy began. "He was out of line, don't take it to heart, he probably has it worse at home."

I broke into a laugh. "No shit, I don't need your help or your dumb lecture on anti-racism."

Tom pressed his lips together. "Right, you're my brother—"

"I ain't your brother." I cut him off and watched his eyes fall like a wounded puppy. "Okay? I was there when you came into the home."

Tommy glared at me. "You know what? Never mind."

I glared as the big guy stomped further away. I never asked for his help anyway.

The rest of the school day was a blur; I avoided Luke and went downtown with Rafe and Easton to spray paint on an abandoned warehouse.

"I can't believe your old man pulled you out of that one," I told Rafe. He'd been driving the car that night. His dad was a pilot with his private airline and made big bucks delivering packages from the lower fifties to Alaska and back. Easton's parents came from old money.

"Yeah, we should have seen the look on that lame detective's face when we paid the bail." Rafe chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. "That guy's the worst."

"So, how's life in the Dreamhouse?" Easton asked as he sat on the hood of Rafe's charger. "You guys are like squatters or something?"

I shrugged. "It's ain't so bad; that guy's loaded; he nearly pissed my pants when I checked out his paintings, worth over a million."

"You could swipe it though." Rafe suggested.

I scoffed. "No way, he's too high profile."

"Trust me, he probably doesn't look at it." Rafe said.

We messed up the place for a while until I had to get home for a change of clothes. Amanda was probably fixing up dinner for me like always. I'll be in and out. I

"And where are you off to?" Christine asked the moment I stepped out of my room.

"Out," I answered.

"Where?" Christine narrowed her eyes.

"Sheesh, Rafe, and I are... studying at the public library." I shrugged. "SATs crap."

Christine lifted a brow. "Oh, it better be the library because I will be watching from the phone finder app."

"I'm not a kid," I reminded her.

"Yes, your whiskers gave it away," Christine smiled but her eyes were deadly as she walked past me.

I threw my head up with disbelief.

I walked past an open door downstairs and stopped, I peeked again and smirked. Don't mind if I do. The home office was slick, with fancy furniture, a mini library and computer. The telephone beeped a voicemail.

I pushed the answer button and skipped through messages from friends, his mother, and...

"Hi Mike," Helen's voice purred through the line. "Just wanted to let you know, the Campbells made a change on their wedding date."

I grinned and leaned by the desk. Helen stirred something inside me. She was beautiful and could light up a room. I copied off her number and slipped out of the office.

Tommy wasn't back yet so, I slid on the swivel chair in the bedroom and dialed her number on the telephone.

"Hello?" Her voice came over the other end.