Motive

Second Home

~Mary Jay~

I stood at the front desk with my bag in hand. I held so tight onto the straps, my knuckles could've combusted.

I swallowed hard as Christi turned around in her chair. She looked at me blankly as she scanned my face. I held eye contact and cleared my throat.

"I need to check myself out until tonight." I stated confidently.

She squinted her eyes, "Only guardians are allowed to check out students."

Duh, MJ.

I fixed my poker face, "I know- It's just. . My dad- he's passed and his birthday is nearing. I just wanted to go visit my poor Aunt. . Really be there for her. I can assure you i'll be back before curfew, I won't be late."

She pondered my words and scanned my face again for any hint of lying but she must've forgotten this is a kid for troubled teens.

We all lie.

She bit her bottom lip in concentration before giving in, "I suppose I could make an exception. You must be back before curfew. If not, there will be serious consequences."

I nodded, "I understand fully."

She kept her eyes on me a second longer as she pulled out a pass from the drawer. She wrote my name and the time I needed to check back in on and slid it over the counter.

"Thanks so much, Christi."

I smirked slightly as I guided myself through the double doors and out to freedom. I wore all black clothing; black hoodie, joggers. I pulled my hoodie over my head as I walked down the path and into the parking lot.

I reached into my pocket to text the number to say I was out but just before I hit send a black impala pulled up in a speedy motion. The windows were tinted but I knew exactly who was behind them.

I grinned evilly as I walked around the the passengers side and opened the door. Once I was in, I threw my bag to the back seat and settled in. I exhaled deeply before turning my head and making eye contact with him.

"Jean."

"Mary Jay."

We just sat in silence for a minute, taking each other's presence in.

"It's been a while." He spoke lowly.

"Indeed it has."

Jean looked scary, but he wasn't. At all. His black hair was slicked back into a bun, much like Ryder's but a tad longer. Tattoo's littered his neck and trailed down his arms through his fitted long sleeve. He had subtle facial hair and thin eyes.

Jean has gotten me through a lot.

When my dad died, I was heartbroken. As I got older, I had nothing to take my frustration out on. My dad wasn't killed or taken; It was only the drugs. I couldn't kill the drugs and I needed some way to release all my pent up aggression. That's how I found Jean. He runs an underground fight club which they do live fights to win drugs and money. I only ever went for the thrill though. It's also how my Aunt Apple mysteriously got wads of money in the mail with no return address.

His car smelled of cigarettes and cologne which I'd grown to love.

Jean started up the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot with ease. Neither of us said anything and I paid attention to the road in front of us.

"What're you doin' at a boarding school, kid?" He asked, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket.

I sighed, "They would've put me in some juvenile detention and pressed charges if I didn't."