7| Breaking Silence

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"Where the hell have you been?" Mum screeches, when I close the door

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"Where the hell have you been?" Mum screeches, when I close the door.

"Dr Chris took me to the hospital." She looks concerned. "To see Isla." I quickly add in. "Why?"

"Well, you know when you stupidly punched Jared Jackson in the face." Mum places her hands on her temples. "Well, Mr and Mrs Jackson are suing the school, because they didn't expel you."

Mr and Mrs Jackson? What happened to the countless dinner parties that Mum and I were invited to? Mr Jackson teaching Jared and I how to shoot hoops? Mrs Jackson baking her special blueberry  muffins, especially for me? I guess their priorities changed when I broke their son's nose. All of our priorities changed.

"They have money, Bradley." Mum says, tears are streaming down her already damp cheeks.

I drop my backpack and shuffle Mum into the living room.

"We'll figure something out." I say, as enthusiastically as possible.

We'll never figure anything out. The Jackson's are business tycoons. Mrs Jackson owns her own law firm and Mr Jackson runs a top-notch wine company. They exude money. They wallow in money. They're going to crush us.

"I can't even afford an effin' lawyer, Bradley." Mum says, mopping up her tear-stained face with a tissue. "They are the flippin' lawyers. The best ones in the state."

"I'll talk to Jared." I say out of desperation. "Get his parents to revoke the case."

I can't even look at Jared in the hallways.

"We'll figure it out." I repeat.

Mum pulls me into a hug.

"We'll figure it out." I whisper into her ear.

"Yes. We will. We always do." She replies.

"I've got school." I say. "Will you drive me?" I ask, hoping the wave of anger has passed.

"Sure." Mum says, picking her car keys up off the table.

●●●

School is crappier than usual. I have triple geometry and trigonometry directly after.

I see Jared in the hallways, with Nicole. If only he knew what she did. I keep my head down. I need to tell him soon. I wake up every morning with the intention of giving him an anonymous tip, and go to bed every night plagued by guilt that I didn't. It's like carrying a weight and it gets heavier as every day goes by.

I eat my simple lunch alone, in the corner cubicle of the boys toilets, listening to running taps, flushes and wondering who's producing the ungodly scent from the cubicle beside me. I have no one to sit with in the cafeteria and the library has a strict no-food policy. Also, I currently have no friends.

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