Oakleaf Academy For Boys

four

Diesel was leant against the wire fence that encircled the concrete courtyard. His fingers twisted delicately around the thick green coils, his head cocked to the side as he watched two boys rolling around by the benches, throwing punches.

He brought the burnt out cigarette to his lips once more, inhaled deeply and tossed it to the ground. Once he'd stomped it out with the sole of his red Dr Martens, he averted his attention back to the boys in front of him. They were yelling profanities and accusations as the circle of students surrounding them laughed and cheered them on. A guard appeared in a matter of moments, yanking them apart and barking orders.

The fun was over. Diesel left.

When he returned to his dorm room, he found Starr curled up on the bottom bunk, his shoulders slumped in defeat, his eyes glossy and fogged over with a sense of distant absentmindedness. His head shot up at the sound of the door creaking open and he forced on an artificial smile, "Hey." He muttered.

"What's up with you?" Diesel scoffed, hopping up onto the chest of drawers, his legs dangling beneath him.

"Nothing." Quinn brushed him off, mindlessly trying to fix his clothes. "Where've you been?"

"Some pathetic fight between a couple of twats." He informed his friend. "Not very exciting. There weren't any teeth flying." He rolled his eyes in exasperation, "What about you?"

Quinn shrugged, "I've just been catching up on some homework." He lied, his bed still warm from Kit's presence.

"Well, c'mon, I said we'd meet Steel on the pitch. Apparently he stole a joint from someone's bag."

"I think I'll just stay here."

Diesel rose his brows in disbelief, "What the fuck's up with you, man? You've been all depressed and moody for weeks."

He shrugged, "I'm just not feeling it."

"Oh, c'mon, don't give me that bullshit. Whatever's wrong, suck it the fuck up and ignore it. Or are you about to start talking about your feelings like a fucking pussy?"

Quinn clenched his jaw shut in annoyance and hopped off the bed, ruffling his hair before following Diesel out of the room. The second the pair left, they noticed two figures walking towards them at the other end of the hall. Quinn tensed, his face heating up when he identified one of the boys to be Kit. He was stood with a smaller, shorter boy with dishevelled caramel hair and baby blue eyes, chatting lowly.

"Is that a newbie?" Diesel asked loudly, not making any effort to keep his voice down. "Those are hard to come by nowadays."

At the other end of the corridor, Kit was only just noticing the pair exiting their room, "Ah, shit." He hissed, nudging Benji discreetly and whispering, "That's Diesel."

Benji's eyes widened at the name. So he was the one everyone feared, the one people talked about as if he was Satan himself, ready to inflict pain and suffering on anyone coming his way. And Kit and Benji were quite literally coming his way.

They all slowed their steps and came to a stop, like a standoff in an old cowboy movie. Quinn locked eyes with Kit, his heart pounding, his pulse throbbing loudly in his ear. He was panicking. And what he hated more than anything else was the fact that Kit looked completely unfazed. He glanced nonchalantly at Quinn, his cold eyes displaying no emotion before turning to Diesel. "Leave him alone, he's harmless." Kit told Diesel casually.

"Oh, don't be like that, Samuels. No one's completely harmless." Diesel winked, smirking smugly as he examined the new kid up and down. "Are you the one people are calling Pup?"