Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Thirty One

WARNING: MENTION OF DRUGS, DEALING, SUICIDE AND ABUSE

Sam

Sixth form truly was the bane of my existence and I spent every day there wishing that I hadn't gone. I was teased relentlessly about my economic situation and I was barely scraping a pass in each of my subjects. Homework assignments were handed in late and I spent almost every lesson half asleep. It was inevitable given my working situation, but my hands were tied. My teachers were at wit's end with me, I knew that much at least, but my head of year was eager to keep me in school, so there was nothing much they could do unless I dropped out. I had no idea why Mr Goddard was so adamant that I stick with it, he knew as much as anyone else that if I made it to the end of Year 13 I would probably end up with 3 U's.

I was sitting in the corner of the common room, shying away from the large group of kids from my year that took occupancy on the other side of the room, my nose stuck in a book I'd been made to read for my English class. A class that I regretted taking almost immediately. I had only picked it because I did well in it at GCSE, which was only because I had a good teacher, who was willing to work with me to do so. It was evident that when I got to Whitley Bay that that wasn't the case.

I had the whole of Jane Eyre to read and produce a book report on by the following Monday, which I seriously wasn't looking forward to. I was using all my free periods to do the reading as I was due to work every afternoon that week at the restaurant down the road, followed by a shift in the Low Lights. That wasn't including the nine to five I had at the call centre I worked at on Saturday and Sunday. I had to work at the Low Lights over the weekend too, but those were later shifts and I didn't have to start until eight, which gave me three hours break between. I physically didn't have the time to fit the stupid homework in, not that Miss Jenkins cared. It wasn't like the report counted towards anything! I understood reading the book as it was covered in the exam paper, but still.

After the incident with Rory last month, I scaled back my drinking considerably. Well, considerably in comparison to what it used to be. I still had a few after my shifts at the Low Lights, but it would either only be one or two, or I would be sure not to call Rory. She would kill me if she found out, but after the breakdown she had, I decided I would rather risk her wrath on the off-chance she found out than constantly trigger her fear of losing another loved one. Luckily Dean and Tom had been more than willing to let me crash at their houses on the rougher nights. I knew that even if I could make it home by myself, my mam would find out, which in turn meant Rory would find out, so I actively tried to avoid it. Don't get me wrong, I loved that my girlfriend got along with my mother, but it was a nightmare sometimes.

"I earned two hundred and fifty quid last week! Everyone's gan crazy for spice, man," Ethan bragged loudly. Sometimes, I was so invisible at school that some of my peers often forgot I was there. Because what person of sound mind would talk about dealing drugs in front of the teenager they bullied almost daily? Not me that's for sure, but there we go.

"That's fuck all, I got three fifty. Literally, town on a Saturday night... Got rinsed for all I had," Dylan snorted. Fucking hell, three hundred and fifty quid in a week? I barely made £160 for all the hours I worked and they basically did fuck all!

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Kieran snarled as he noticed my head peaking over the book. My eyes widened and I immediately shrunk into myself, desperate to avoid the conflict. I didn't need it today. "Oi, I'm talking to you!"

I gulped as he stormed towards me, grasping me by the collar of my shirt and yanking me up out of the chair. "Nothing!" I blurted out pathetically.

"Leave him alone, Kie. Poor lad can't help himself when he hears about money," Dylan taunted, letting out a loud laugh. My ears burned brightly and my jaw clenched hard, a mixture of embarrassment and anger at his comments. "Feel sorry for him, on benefits and living on a council estate. Fuckin' hell, I would end it."

"Drop him, Kieran," the stern voice of Mr Goddard instructed from behind him. Kieran snarled at me before letting go of my shirt and backing away with a scoff. "Can we have a word, Sam?" I nodded wordless, gathering my things and following him out of the room and to his office, not uttering a word the whole way. I entered the small room, taking a seat on the chair in front of his desk as he shut the door behind him before taking his own seat.

"What's this about?" I asked with a tone of indifference.

"I think it's you I should be asking that," he quipped, intertwining his fingers and leaning back in the chair, his eyes studying me carefully.

"I dunna what ya mean," I shrugged, my lips pulled in a tight line.

"Come on now, Sam. We've been in this same situation too many times," he sighed, resting an elbow on the arm of the chair and rubbing his lips with the pad of his thumb frustratedly. "I can't help you if ya don't help me."

"I don't need any help, sir," I told him monotonously.

"Mind telling me what that whole exchange was about then?" he asked.

"Just a misunderstanding," I answered nonchalantly.

"Ya seem to have a lot of misunderstandings with Mr Griffiths and co.," he spoke accusingly.

"I told ya, it's nowt," I huffed, folding my arms across my chest and fixing my eyes on the bookshelf to my left in an attempt to feign disinterest.

"Reet," he accepted reluctantly. "If ya aren't gan tell me what's gan on with that, can ya at least tell us what's gan on with you?"

"I dunna what you're on about," I muttered.

"I'm trying my hardest here, kid," he admitted, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. "Your teachers aren't happy with you-"

"They never are," I scoffed.

"You're withdrawn, irritable, isolated... I've had four complaints in the past two and a half weeks that you're not paying attention in class, two more about you being caught sleeping, your homework is never handed in on time," he listed. "I can't help you if ya don't talk tob me. Is something going on outside of school?"

"No!" I replied defensively, shooting the older man a scowl.

"You can talk to me, ya know? Nothing will leave this room," he assured me, but it only irritated me further. "Is... is something going on at home?"

"What're ya trying to say? What? My mam hits me or sommat?" I demanded.

"It's an entirely plausible situation, I'm just trying to cover all the bases-"

"Yeah, well, ya can shove your accusations where the sun don't shine!" I hissed. "Me mam don't hit us, that I can tell you!"

"Sam-"

"Are we done here?" I asked. I didn't let him answer before I gathered my things and stormed out of the room, not glancing back to see the look of defeat on the older man's face.