Broken English (Broken Lives Book 1) (21 page)

“For wh-what?” I stuttered out, the man
unsettling me. Despite other people being in the room, he was eyeing me up like
he wanted to mount me right there, another thing his son obviously got from him.
The two were shameless, not caring about anyone other than what they wanted.

“Dante,
obviously
,” he replied with
a smirk, probably aware of the effect he was having on me. “He needs extra
lessons.”

“Ah ... I don’t know if I have the time.”

“You’ll make it for my boy. Check your
schedule and get back to him when he returns to school. I don’t want him
failing School C like his older brother.”

“It’s now called NCEA.”

“It could be called A-B-fuckin’-C for all
I care; I just want at least one of my kids to finish Fifth Form.”

“It’s called Year Eleven,” I said without
thinking.

He gave me a withering look, making me
clamp my mouth shut. “Just teach my kid good.” Without another word, he disappeared
out the door.

Principal Sao exhaled loudly, looking
relieved that Mr. Rata was gone. “I’m sorry you had to be subjected to that,
Clara. That man is a law unto himself.”


And
his son!” Ronald’s mother piped
up from her seat, finally finding her voice. I’d forgotten she was there. In
fact, Dante’s father had made me forget about everyone while he’d been talking
to me, the man overwhelming.

Mrs. McDonald indicated to her son’s
bruised and bandaged face. “Look what that Rata thug did to my Ronnie. Dante should
be expelled, not suspended.”

“It was your son who instigated the
fight,” I said, “so if you think Dante should be expelled, then Ronald should
receive the same punishment.”

“Like hell!” she shouted, jumping to her
feet. “What my boy did hardly compares to the brutality unleashed upon him.”

“It was no different to what I saw Ronald
do to Dante the first day of school.” I crossed my arms over my chest, not
willing to let her son get off scot-free. “Actually, what Ronald did was worse.
He and two of his friends attacked Dante without provocation, kicking him while
he was on the ground. So, again, if you think Dante should be expelled, then
Ronald should receive the same punishment.”

Mrs. McDonald’s head snapped to the
principal. “If you dare expel my boy, I’ll take this to the papers. I’ll make
your school look so damn bad you won’t know what hit you.”

Principal Sao shook his head. “Regardless
of your threats, I have no intention of expelling your son
or
Dante.
Suspensions are all that’s needed in this case.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re not suspending my
Ronnie!”   

“I certainly am. You’re to keep him home for
the next three days.”

“But he didn’t throw the first punch!”

“Which is why his suspension is shorter—for
the moment, because I did warn him to stop harassing Dante. Ronald refuses to
leave him alone.”

“’Cos he fucked my girlfriend!” Ronald yelled.
“He deserves everything he gets!”

His mother whipped her head around to him.
“So, that’s why Phelia left you.”

Ronald’s face dropped, his expression
devastated. “He doesn’t even want her. He just did her to upset me.”

His mother’s face softened. “Oh, you poor
sweetheart,” she said, coaxing her son up. “Come on, let’s go home.” She placed
an arm around him and walked out of the office, giving me a glare along the way.

Principal Sao watched them leave, his
expression not happy. As soon as the door closed behind them, he walked around
his desk and sat down in his swivel chair, muttering, “The suspension won’t do
any good. Those two boys will be right back at it in no time. It’ll be a
continuous tit for tat until one of them leaves school.”

“Maybe things will calm down, especially
if Ronald finds a new girlfriend.”

He shook his head. “Phelia Lamar is just
one of many issues they’ve had. The boys and their fathers are in rival gangs,
which is why Mrs. McDonald looked so scared around Dante’s father. The stare down
he gave her when he first walked in would’ve terrified anyone. Anyway, thank
you for your help. You can return to your class now.”

I nodded and went to leave, but stopped as
he called out my name. I turned back. “Yes?”

His brow furrowed. “I almost forgot to
mention about what Mr. Rata asked you. If you’re going to tutor Dante, whatever
you do,
don’t
do it at his house.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Well, I thought I should warn you just in
case. I don’t want you putting yourself in a dangerous situation.”

“I don’t intend to.”

“Good. And I’m really sorry about the way Mr.
Rata looked at you, Clara. I should’ve said something to him.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine. Anyway, I
should go before my classroom’s destroyed.”

He nodded, giving me a slight smile. I lifted
my hand in farewell and left his office. As I headed down the main corridor, my
mind returned to Mr. Rata’s comment about tutoring Dante. I pushed through my
classroom door, wondering how I could get out of it without upsetting the man
... because like the father, there was no way I wanted to be left alone with
the son, both of them as dangerous as each other, just in different ways.

 

 

 

19

CLARA

While Dante was off school, everything ran
smoothly again. Oh, the students still complained and whined, but they mostly
did what they were told, some even engaging in debates about
Animal Farm
.
It made me feel good, like I was finally settling into my new job. Lindy also
helped boost my morale, her enthusiasm for my class an absolute joy. She was
such a lovely girl, and a real good sport, especially in regards to the musical.
Even though she didn’t get one of the acting roles, she offered to help out
with the menial tasks that no one else wanted to do. On the following Wednesday,
she was handing out scripts to the kids who’d been called back, congratulating
them on getting a part.

After she’d finished, she headed to where
I was sitting, nestled in the second row of seats facing the stage. She gave me
one of her metallic smiles, her braces reflecting the hall lights. “I’ve
finished with my tasks for Mr. Aston. Do you need me to do anything for you?”

“No, I’m fine thanks, Lindy,” I said, returning
her smile.

“You sure?” she asked, looking
disappointed.

“Um...” I stalled, realising she wanted to
help. “Actually, you can sit with me and give your opinion on how everyone
performs. Mr. Grey was supposed to do it, but he got called away on a family
matter.”

“Okay!” She sat down next to me, gripping
onto the seat with unbridled excitement, the girl a true delight.

My attention moved to Phelia as she
climbed the stairs to the stage, making me wonder where Dante was. He was
supposed to be here ten minutes ago, his suspension now over. Due to the fight,
there’d been a heated debate as to whether he should play Othello. Both Harry
and I had voted yes, thinking it would be good to get Dante to channel his
energies into something positive rather than negative. Vehemently disagreeing,
Paul had gone to Principal Sao with the intention of overriding us. It had
backfired on him, with the principal supporting us instead. Though, Principal
Sao had stated that Dante had to turn up to every single rehearsal or risk
losing the part to Jasper, who was his understudy.

Phelia called out to me, “How am I s’posed
to do this scene without Dante? He has to sing it with me.”

“Lindy, can you please go get Jasper,” I
said, disappointed Dante was doing exactly as Paul had predicted. “He’s rehearsing
in Mr. Aston’s drama room with Annabelle,”
who was Phelia’s understudy.

Lindy went to get up, but stopped, the
loud bang of the main door attracting our attention. I glanced over my shoulder,
spotting Dante entering the hall. He appeared out of breath, as though he’d run
here, or more likely sprinted. A light sheen of sweat covered his exposed skin,
making it glisten, while his black hair was a windswept tangle of waves. But
instead of making him look bad, he looked sexy. Coupled with his rosy cheeks
and haphazard clothes, he gave the impression he’d just had...

Sex.

The memory of him getting a blowjob in the
restroom returned again, something I couldn’t get out of my mind, no matter how
hard I tried.

“Why are you late?” I asked a bit too
harshly, more annoyed with myself than him.

“Sorry, miss, I had to do a job for my cuz,”
he answered, stopping next to Lindy’s seat. He peered over her at me. “So, what
do I do?”

Lindy held out a script, grumbling,
“Practice your lines with Phelia.”

He snatched it out of her hand and headed
for the stage, the thud of his boots against the wooden floorboards sounding
loud to my ears. Throwing the script onto the stage, he climbed up it, getting
a giggle from Phelia, whose face had lit up upon his arrival. The girl was
obviously infatuated with him and why shouldn’t she be? He was drop-dead
gorgeous, not to mention her age ...
fifteen
. I repeated the number in
my head, using it to force some sense into me, my attraction to him now getting
on my nerves. It almost felt like a pulse thrumming beneath my skin, never
letting me forget that day in the restroom.

Lindy said something, jolting me out of my
thoughts. I turned to look at her. She was glaring up at the stage, where
Phelia was pointing something out to Dante in the script.

“He’s such a dickhead,” she muttered.

“How come you don’t like him?” I asked, a
touch curious, especially since she was the only girl in the class who didn’t drool
over the boy.

She scowled. “As I said, he’s a dickhead, and
with a capital D.” She smirked. “Dante Dickhead Rata.”

I shook my head in amusement. “But all the
other girls love him.”

“Those superficial idiots are blinded by
his looks.”

“Why aren’t you, then?”

“Girls are better looking,” she muttered.

My eyebrows shot up. “You like girls?”

She jumped in her seat, what she’d said
obviously a Freudian slip. She glanced behind her, probably worried that
someone had heard me. But the other kids had left the hall, only the two of us,
along with Phelia and Dante, remaining. Though, those two weren’t paying us any
attention, more wrapped up with the script than Lindy’s sexual orientation.

Lindy dropped her gaze, her pale cheeks
reddening within seconds.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Lindy.
Liking girls is perfectly fine.”

She looked up at me, appearing surprised.
“Really?”

I nodded. “Of course, and if anyone says differently,
they’re
wrong.”

A smile pulled at her lips, her soft grey
eyes lighting up. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being the first person who didn’t
think I was a reject.”

“No one thinks you’re a reject.”

Grimacing, she tucked a strand of dyed-black
hair behind her ear, her dark-blonde roots now showing. She also had a few new
piercings, one of them a safety-pin. “Then, why do I get called one?” she
asked.

“Who by?”

“Kids at school.”

“They’re not bullying you, are they?”

She shrugged a bit too nonchalantly. “Nothing
I can’t handle,” she said, not looking like she was telling the truth. I made a
mental note to ask her again when we were alone, so she could confide without the
worry of being overheard.

The entrance doors creaked open, pulling
my attention away from Lindy. I glanced over my shoulder, catching Ronald standing
in the doorway. His eyes were wide, the boy appearing both shocked and upset. Before
I could say a thing, he disappeared, the doors banging in his wake.

Wondering what had upset him, I looked at
the stage, getting an eyeful in the process. Dante and Phelia were full-out
kissing each other, Phelia even groping his arse.

I shot to my feet. “What the hell are you
doing?!”

Dante pulled away from Phelia, giving me
an incredulous look. “What the script says, miss.”

“There’s no kissing in this part, and
nothing
like that.”

“There is.” He held up the script, telling
me the scene.

“We’re not up to that scene yet, and it
doesn’t involve French kissing.” I narrowed my eyes at Phelia. “Or molesting
your acting partner.”

Phelia giggled.

Dante’s confused gaze flicked to Phelia.
“But she told me we’re s’posed to do it like that.”

“That’s ’cause she wanted to kiss you,
stupid,” Lindy yelled out.

Dante’s gaze shot to Lindy. “I’m not
stupid!”

“No, you’re not,” I quickly cut in, wanting
to defuse the situation. “This is Phelia’s fault, not yours.” I shifted my
focus to the girl, angry with her for taking advantage of Dante. Instead of
showing even a modicum of guilt, she appeared pleased with herself, furthering
my annoyance. “Don’t cause any more trouble or I’ll give you detention.”

She giggled again. “I’d gladly do detention
if you let me kiss him again.”


Phelia
.”

“Okay, miss, I’ll be a good girl,” she
said, sounding insincere. She turned back to Dante, pointing out the correct
scene. Dante grimaced, looking angry with being duped.

The rest of the practice went surprisingly
well, Phelia not causing any more trouble. After they’d sung their last lines,
I called out, “That’s a wrap for today,” and pushed up from my seat. Lindy rose
too, saying a quick farewell before scurrying off as though she was late for
something. Phelia followed her out, also appearing in a rush, making me wonder
whether they both had Marcia’s class next. The food tech teacher was infamous
for handing out detentions for being late, the woman having zero tolerance.

A loud thud jolted me, drawing my
attention back to the stage. Dante was in front of it, obviously having jumped down.
He straightened and locked eyes with me. I hesitated, temporarily forgetting
what I was about to do. Not taking his eyes off me, he headed my way. I quickly
turned around and grabbed my satchel, not wanting to be left alone with him. As
I went to leave, he shot in front of me, the sudden movement causing me to
shriek.

“Sorry, didn’t meana scare ya,” he said,
looking like he was trying not to smile.

I placed a hand on my chest, my heart
beating at an abnormal rate. “What do you want?”

He gave me a shrug, his lips pulling up ever
so slightly.

“Spit it out, Dante,” I said, still on
edge.

His smile widened.

Not interested in his games, I went to
step around him. He mirrored my step, causing me to snap, “Stop it!”

He laughed. “Chill, I wuz just playing
with ya.”

“Then, move out of my way.”

“Nope, got some cash for you.” He dug into
his back pocket and pulled out a wad of dollar bills.

“What’s that for?”

His grin returned. “To pay for the sex ed
lessons my dad arranged with you.”

I scowled at him. “That’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is,” he sniggered. “You just got
no sense of humour.”

“Or you’re just being disrespectful.”

He winked. “Can’t deny that.”

I breathed out, just wanting him to leave.
“So, how about you put that money away and get to your next class.”

“Don’t feel like it.”


Dante
.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s just drama.”

“Which, you’ll be late for if you don’t
leave now.”

“I usually turn up late so I can miss the
skipping.”

“Skipping?”

He grimaced. “At the beginning of class, Mother
Hubbard makes us skip like girls,” he said, referring to Beverly. “It’s s’posed
to help us with our timing for performances. It’s to do with cues and shit like
that. I don’t mind watching the chicks’ tits bounce, but there’s no way I’m
skipping in front of anyone again. Julio almost pissed himself laughing the
last time I did it, saying I looked like a twat.”

I smiled, imagining it.

His lips quirked up. “I like it when you
smile. It lights your whole face up. You look so gorgeous.”

My smile dropped, his compliment making me
feel awkward.

“Don’t stop smiling.” He pulled a funny
face, looking like he was trying to make me smile again. Despite myself I did. He
let out a cheer, giving a victorious salute with his fist.

My smile widened. “Okay, that’s quite
enough. Move out of my way, I really do need to leave.”

He held the cash out again. “Not until you
take the money. There’s two hundred bucks to cover whatever English tutorials
it’ll get me. I’ll get ya more when it runs out.”

“There’s no need.” I paused, trying to
think up an excuse as to why I couldn’t tutor him. I opened my mouth, intending
on using the ‘I’m all booked up’ excuse, but he cut me off.

“It’s perfectly legit, I earned this lot,”
he said, still holding the money out.

“What do you mean by ‘legit’ and why isn’t
your father paying?”

“Legit means it’s not stolen, and my dad
said I should pay cos I caused the trouble, and there’s no way he’s not lettin’
me see my
baba
and
dida
.”

“Who’s your baba
and dida?” I
asked, not understanding half of what he was saying.

“My grandparents. It’s Croatian for
grandma and grandpa.”

“Are they your mother’s parents, because
your father looks Maori?”

His expression instantly dropped at the
mention of his mother, making me feel bad for asking, her murder obviously still
affecting him badly. He lowered his gaze, muttering, “Yeah.”

I placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

He looked up. “For what?”

“For making you sad.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t do that,
you’re nice.”

My eyebrows shot up. “I am?”

“Yeah, I might be a right cunt to you, but
you always treat me nicely.”

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