Playing Poker [BEING REWRITTEN]

9| Pink Slip

Rayland

"Where the fuck were you? I was worried." He screamed in my face, ending the sentence in a hushed whisper.

"I'm sorry, I just needed to get out of there. It was suffocating." I replied. He looked at me with sympathetic eyes and wrapped his  arms around me.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Tell me if they do anything again. I'll fight 'em." Weston continued, hugging me. After we finished, I walked to my homeroom class. The door was wide open, I was greeted by a ginger haired woman, small brown freckles were scattered across her pale skin. She greeted me with a smile, exposing her pearly white teeth. She didn't know who I was due to my absence, I introduced myself and took a seat next to a tall Indian girl.

Homeroom passed by really fast, most of the class was spent on students completing unfinished work for other classes. I doodled on a blank piece of paper, bored out of my mind. Second and third periods were tedious.

By lunch time, I was sitting with Weston, Matteo, Myles, and Alexander. Weston told me they had a friend that recently came off of suspension and was coming back during lunch. I knew exactly which friend he was talking about.

Before I came back to the house, Max and I found out we went to the same school. I'm not going to lie, I didn't fully forgive him for his years of torture. Can you blame me? Everyday at school he would torment me, his words embedded in my brain.

Playing Poker

"Are you okay, Ray?" Weston softly asked next to me. The pencil shaking in my hand as I try to make a line on the paper. I'm in an advanced art class but I haven't tried a serious drawing since Weston moved.

I had been trying to make a mark on this paper for the last two minutes but my hand wouldn't connect to the paper.

"Hey, I couldn't give you this the other day," he pulls out a small album. "Happy belated birthday." He smiled at me.

I slowly opened the black book, revealing all the pictures I have ever taken with Weston. I looked up with gratitude and he was already smiling at me.

"Thanks, West." I hugged him tightly.

"No problem." He hugged me tighter.

Walking out of the classroom, I stumbled into the lockers, the scars on my back taking the impact. I glared at the force that pushed me into the locker. There stood a tall girl, a blue rubber band holding her brown, wavy hair above her head. A white t-shirt and blue basketball shorts that came slightly above her knees covered her athletic body.

"Hey, my name is Christian." She fake smiled at me, showcasing her teal braces and white rubber bands.

"Hey, I don't care." I gave her a similar smile. She kept smiling at me, her brown eyes piercing through me.

"So, what's your deal with the Browns'?" Her smile dropped quickly, exposing her true intentions of talking to me.

"None of your business." I shrugged, walking away. I felt a push to my side, my body crashing against the lockers again. I grunted in pain, louring at the girl in front. I was about to lunge at the bitch but she fell to the floor before I even touched her. She started crying in pain, holding her right knee. I turned to see a middle aged man storming his way over to us.

"Principal's office, now." He boomed, he pointed between both of us. Christian shot me a smug grin before limping behind the man. I followed behind until a black sphere caught my attention. A camera. Bingo!