In Lakewood, a small town with a reputation of crime, gangs, outcasts and violence, Lana Takumi is an orphan and a gang member disguised in ripped jeans of her late mother and old flannels of her late father. She feels stuck in an endless cycle of b...
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L A N A
FOUR DAYS LATER DURING lunch,it was announced on the speakers (which surprisingly worked) that Everett Weston had been chosen as the student body president for this school year. There was no election because it turned out we didn't have a president and there were no other students who wanted to run for the position. Not surprising at all.
For five solid minutes, everyone in the cafeteria wore the same surprised faces. During the next five minutes, they rolled their eyes, groaned, and laughed at how mad the new guy was.
Everett was definitely an idiot. Brave but an idiot. He was going to get himself killed. A white dude who talked about morals, justice, and the difference between right and wrong in a ghetto town filled people who cheated, stole, spoke the language of violence fluently and inhaled drugs and alcohol like water sounded like a collision course going straight to hell.
"He's stupid if he thinks he can interfere like that and run for fucking student council President. He's a total goner," Isha said, snorting while seated in the chair next to me.
"Only two things will happen now that he's president. Either he'll go down or run back to where he came from," Carmen said.
"If he buts in on our business again, I'll be the first in line to take him down," Jada stated, her expression firm. She was gathering her rage. That was not a good sign.
Everett Weston, you are so dead.
Because of the fresh new bad blood staring to form between The Sirens and the new guy, I didn't particularly enjoy parting ways with the girls and having three hours of advanced math and physics on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays with the president himself. But I had no other choice.
"Catch you later, Lee." Isha waved and Carmen and Jada sent me off with a soft smile, and I started heading out of the cafeteria.
When I stepped inside the classroom for advanced math and physics, Ali and Lily were already seated next to each other, chuckling about something as usual.
Our teacher, Mr. Wayne, a tall black man with a polite smile, greeted me with a small wave. When he returned back to write some algebra problems on the whiteboard, I limped across the room to slump down in my usual seat by the window.
After I was settled in my chair and had opened my books and grabbed a pencil, Everett walked into the classroom with his hands on his blue backpack straps. If it wasn't for his tall height, he would've imaged a middle school kid.
Honestly, I found him kinda annoying. No, it was more like his whole existence was irritating. Why? Because he smiled a lot and said thank you a lot. Nobody around here did that.
