Delinquents

Chapter Two: The Encounter

Harley sighed and reluctantly put down his notebook and pen. For someone who loved English, he seriously hated Shakespeare. He couldn't fathom how stories and plays written so many years ago could be relevant in todays society. He stood up and stretched, the edge of his t-shirt rising. He didn't want to go and meet Mrs. Barlow, but it was a necessity.

"Have fun mate, make sure no one sees you with Satan's playmate," Jared jibed, laughing at Harleys misfortune.

"Watch it," He warned as he left their room, slamming the door behind him.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked through the male sleeping quarters until he reached the secured door, which joined up to the main corridors of the Academy. Harley checked over his shoulders to ensure that no one had followed him or had seen him sneak into the school after curfew, which was 8.30pm on a weekday and 11:00pm on a weekend. Although he wouldn't be in trouble with the teachers and lecturers, he didn't want any student's knowing his whereabouts.

The hand sanitizers that were dispersed throughout the campus and the grey lockers gave Bispham Academy a clinical feel. The college was cold and goose bumps formed on Harley's arms.

Harley wiped his hands down the front of his jeans before he pushed open the double doors to the cafeteria. He spotted Mrs. Barlow sitting at one of the tables and walked slowly towards her, his head bowed. "I'm here," he muttered, sitting on the bench opposite her.

"I can see that," she began, her lips pressed into tight line. "It has come to my attention that you have been disrespecting your professors, more specifically Coach."

"Aunt-Mrs. Barlow, I can explain," His eyebrows furrowed, and he caught his lip between his teeth.

She pushed one of the two coffee cups towards Harley and sent him a genuine smile. "Look Harley, you know why you're here. You know why people come to Bispham Academy, right? You lot want to get on in life. Maybe go to University, have a successful career? You need this place to provide you with the knowledge, the education and the grades. Need I go on?" Mrs. Barlow asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Of course, I know why I'm fucking here. I wish I didn't fucking remember.

Harley shook his head before wetting his mouth with the warm coffee. "You don't need to remind me," He replied, not quite meeting her gaze. "You know I want to go to University... I always have done..."

"So, start proving that. You are eighteen years old and you need to think about your future. I want to be able to give you the references you need when you finish... but if you carry on disrespecting your Professors, skipping your sessions, then you won't be getting it. You won't be able to get anywhere without a reference from the Academy."

Harley's hand began to clench around the coffee cup, and he brought them under the table - he didn't want her to see him getting frustrated or angry. He looked at Mrs. Barlow who was staring intently at him. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, waiting for her to say something. To fill this awkward silence. Harleys eyes flitted past Mrs. Barlow and to the doors that led back into the corridors. He squinted. Someone was there watching this awkward conversation.

"You do realise that this Academy is offering you and everyone else here the opportunity to rebuild your lives?" Mrs. Barlow asked, this time her voice was softer as she lifted the cup to her mouth.

Harley noticed that it was that girl, the one who had just arrived. Cassie.

"I know," he replied turning his attention back to Mrs. Barlow.

"Now, I hope when I see you this time next week, I won't have to this conversation with you, again." She said, gathering up her papers and dismissing Harley.