Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13488501.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Riverdale_(TV_2017)
  Relationship:
      Sweet_Pea_(Riverdale)/Original_Female_Character(s), Sweet_Pea/OC, Sweet
      Pea/Calliope_Hobbs, Archie_Andrews/Veronica_Lodge, Betty_Cooper/Jughead
      Jones
  Character:
      Sweet_Pea_(Riverdale), Fangs_Fogarty, Toni_Topaz, Jughead_Jones, Betty
      Cooper, Archie_Andrews, Veronica_Lodge, Tall_Boy_(Riverdale), FP_Jones
      II, Calliope_Hobbs, Dean_Hobbs, Daniel_Hobbs, Donovan_Hobbs, Reggie
      Mantle, Cheryl_Blossom, Chuck_Clayton, Kevin_Keller
  Additional Tags:
      Original_Character(s), Slow_Burn, Angst, Fluff_and_Angst, Fluff_and_Smut,
      Eventual_Smut, Angst_and_Fluff_and_Smut, Trust_Issues, Alcohol_Abuse/
      Alcoholism, Recreational_Drug_Use, Gang_Violence, southside_serpents,
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, Psychological_Trauma, Crimes_&_Criminals,
      Romance, First_Time, First_Time_Blow_Jobs, Strangers_to_Lovers, Anxiety,
      Social_Anxiety, Orphans, Homelessness, Addiction, Slow_Build, Gambling,
      Underage_Drinking, Explicit_Language, Multiple_Orgasms, Oral_Sex, Pain,
      Isolation
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-26 Updated: 2018-03-30 Chapters: 9/? Words: 43302
****** Bad Omen ******
by sweetpca
Summary
     Calliope Hobbs believes she has enough distance from the darkness of
     her past, but when she moves to Riverdale to live with her cousins,
     her path to everything she worked for is quickly challenged by
     Southside High's resident alpha male Serpent. Sweet Pea, lean, cut,
     and practically dripping with danger, is exactly what Calliope wants
     — and needs — to avoid.
***** ONE *****
I spent a better half of the last year wondering what the world gained from
kicking people when they were already down. I never saw the compromise in
giving into the crap hand people had been dealt — I had always assumed that you
were in control of your destiny. That every decision you made, every choice,
had a consequence and each consequence would mould who you were supposed to be.
Would you learn from it? Would you run?
My fingers gripped the strap of my bag tightly, glancing down at the crumpled
paper in my right hand again.
Fourteen Mooregate Crescent.
“This is it,” I sighed to myself. I waved to the taxi driver, my lips pressed
into a tight line as he glanced at the house at the end of the driveway, back
to me and then shook his head. My eyebrows pulled together slightly, pulling my
eyes forward to where the washed out wooden door swung open to reveal the large
figure of one of my cousins.
Dean waved his arm in the air excitedly; I shoved the folded piece of paper
into my jacket pocket and walked forward with a small smile on my face. The
southside of the tracks of Riverdale was almost exactly what I had imagined —
dreary, lopsided, and dingy. There was no noticeable pungent smell, nothing
rancid or filthy about the immediate area, although that wouldn’t stop me from
believing that I needed to invest in several bottles of Purell to spare my
immune system. Something about this place seemed colder, darker.
I was running from my decisions, by the way.
Two years ago, I had made the conscious decision to stick it out in foster
care; instead of trying to fit into a youth outreach program like my student
support worker had suggested, I decided that I was perfectly content slumming
it with the rest of the other fucked up orphans. I hadn’t be there quite as
long as the others — my mother had died from ovarian cancer two years just
after I was born, which had prompted my father to fall into a slight
depression. His demon was alcohol; while never abusive, it always seemed to be
a priority. The same way a smoker relied on cigarettes to make it through the
day without completely snapping, my father had needed whiskey.
All seemed fine and well up until I turned fifteen — that’s when I started to
notice how quickly he was deteriorating. One night, I had come home from from a
friend’s place late; my father was knocked out cold on the floor of the living
room. At first glance, I hadn’t thought anything of it. While strange, it
didn’t appear to be out of the norm for him. It was a Friday night, the game
was on, we typically preferred to go our separate ways to avoid the
embarrassment of his daughter having to remind him to go to his bed. It wasn’t
until I noticed the stained carpet several moments later that I realized he
hadn’t just passed out.
It all happened quickly after that. His health continuously declined, even
after the doctors had (point-blank) told him that if he continued to drink, he
was going to kill his liver. Up until that year, I had never considered my
father a selfish person. He always ensured there was food in the house, that
the bills were paid, that I had everything I needed. He had settled into living
life as a functioning alcoholic with zero issues — and perhaps I was naive or
ignorant, but I never saw reason to try to keep him away from the lifestyle. As
long as I was looked after, what did it matter?
He continued to drink regardless, as though he were racing towards the finish
line. Like he couldn’t wait for it to all end, because he was too cowardly to
face a life alone without his wife - couldn’t stand to look me in the face
everyday knowing he had done nothing with the last fourteen years of his life.
It was roughly a week before my fifteenth birthday when his liver stopped
working. He signed a DNR and watched a social services come by the room to take
me away.
That was the last time I saw him. I knew he was dead — I knew his life did not
last much longer after I had been removed from the room. The machines would
have been turned off, he would have been able to sustain himself for two —
maybe three — days before a transplant would have become necessary. I had come
to terms with my father’s death sooner than I had expected. I jumped from home
to home, never quite settling into one place for too long because pleasantries
never really appeared to be my thing.
David Hobbs was my father’s twin brother - he lived on the southside of
Riverdale with his three son’s. Once Dean had become of age, and the boys had
shown they were capable of taking care of themselves, David rejoined the army
and left town. He strongly believed in helping people, and felt it were
unnecessary to stick around in a place that reminded him of a life he no longer
had.
There appeared to be no return of my uncle any time soon. Dean, the eldest of
my cousin’s, had called me a little over a month ago and offered up his
father’s empty room. Family took care of family — regardless of bad family
ties. The unresolved dispute between David and my father never seemed fair to
the rest of us — how we had to sacrifice being one whole unit. I hadn’t
imagined myself leaving the comfort of Greendale, yet here I was. Standing on
the porch of a home I had never once in my life stepped foot into.
I had met my cousin’s a handful of times. Mainly during the summers, usually
when they came into town to visit for a week or two. I got along fine with the
boys, there never seemed to be any issues. As far as I was concerned, this was
really more of a trial and error effort — I agreed to stay with them under the
condition I wouldn’t be forced to stay if I didn’t want to.
“Welcome to hell, Cal.” Dean joked, holding the door open a little wider so
that I could fit through with my bags. His voice was a lot deeper than I
remembered when he had called; growing up, he had always assumed the alpha male
role. Ensured his brothers stayed in line, didn’t cause too many fights or get
into too much trouble, although it wouldn’t stop him from stepping in when
necessary. He had definitely changed. He wasn’t a pretty boy any more — there
was nothing naive left in the man that stood in front of me.
I made sure to wipe my feet on the mat just outside the door, taking my time
looking around the dimly lit living room. The couches were mix-matched, facing
each other with a small black coffee table set between them offering next to no
comfortable walking space. A television sat in the corner, facing the door.
Down the hall past the stairs, I could see the light shining from the dining
area.
Dean took my duffle from my hand, gesturing towards the stairs with a sharp
crane of his neck, “Masters is upstairs.” He grunted, lifting the bag over his
shoulder as he swooped his arm open to gesture me forward.
I gnawed on my lower lip, taking the stairs two at a time. Most of the doors on
the upper level were secured shut, save for the bathroom and the unoccupied
bedroom that sat in the corner. It was fairly large considering the outside
size of the house; it was longer than it was wide, resembling more a rectangle
than a square. There was a walk-in closet opposite to the only window in the
room. I set my bag down on the rocking chair in the corner, my eyes scanning
over the freshly polished furniture. A dresser, a work desk and an (unusually)
large bed in the corner.
“Hope you like purple,” Dean sighed, placing my duffle on the bed. “Danny
wanted to go with black, but Don figured you might like the touch of colour.”
I forced a smile, “It’s great — thanks.”
We stood in silence for a few moments, our eyes scanning over the contents of
the room. The boys had made an honest effort to make the room feminine: aside
from the purple duvet, there were paper lanterns that hung from the ceiling, a
cork board that hung just behind the desk. Photos of my cousin’s and I from our
childhood had already been tacked up in the corners, along with an old
photograph of our fathers when they were our age. Despite the empty closet and
drawers, the room appeared lived in. I found some comfort in that.
“Dinner’s at six,” He said quickly, clapping his hands together, “We’ll go to
Pop’s, grab some burgers.”
“Pop’s?” I asked, pulling my eyes from the crack in the baseboards to meet his
green hues.
Dean’s shoulder dropped in defeat, “Just be ready.” He pleaded, patting my
shoulder twice as he passed. He shut the door behind him, and I waited until I
heard his footsteps disappear down the stairs before I blew out whatever breath
of air I had been holding, ripping the zipper on my bag open to dump the
contents onto the bed.
                                     ~ ~ ~
I squished into the inside of the booth next to Donovan; much like Dean, Danny
and Don had grown into themselves. Danny was in his last year of highschool,
while Don and I were still juniors. My first day at Southside High would
certainly be interesting, to say the least — the boys had left very little up
to the imagination. I could feel my anxiety growing with each passing comment,
slight traces of terror and confusion swirling in my stomach.
“Ghoulies?” I asked, mixing my milkshake with the straw provided. “What the
hell is a Ghoulie?”
“Rivals to the Serpents.” Don explained, stretching his feet out into the
aisle. His boots were untied and messy, although I had realized all of the boys
dressed in that manner. Not like pigs, just matching the general aesthetic of
the southside. “We’re slightly infamous for our abundance of criminal activity
on the south side of town.” He joked grimly, rolling the sleeves on his plaid
shirt up to his elbows.
“Apparently.” I muttered, shaking my head slightly. Pop’s had a charm to it
that I couldn’t quite put my finger on: it was dimly lit and quaint. Families
gathered in the 1970’s chic booths, sipping on flavour variant milkshakes and
curly fries. I looked around the restaurant, scanning my eyes over the faces of
what appeared to be the polar opposite of what the southside represented. They
were high-collared, perfectly curled, prim and proper teens gossiping about
miniscule drama. It was at this time I wasn’t certain which side I sympathized
with more: the Northside or Southside.
“They’re definitely not the type of people you wanna get caught up in,” Danny
added, leaning forward on his elbows. “They’re the main source of the JJ at
Southside, street-racing, typical gang-related violence — that sort of thing.”
“And the Serpents are worse, how?”
The boys shared a look, Dean and Danny both grimacing slightly as Don began to
explain: “The Ghoulies let any schmuck into the group. Make some kind of jab
about a Serpent, down some jingle-jangle with a few of them in the stairwell on
the east corner of the school, deface the property of some Northsider, and
you’re golden with them.
With the Serpents — well, they’re a little more like a family. They’re loyal by
blood. Most children with a Serpent for a parent are initiated by the age of
fifteen. They take care of their own. You fuck with one, you’re pretty much
asking for a death sentence.”
I pulled my brows together, “That intense, huh?”
Dean leaned forward, dropping his voice, “They’re in it for life, Cal. This
isn’t something people can come and go from as they please; they’re willing to
die for each other if necessary.”
“The Ghoulies care very little about their people — if one goes astray, they
hardly bat an eye —”
Danny snorted, “That’s likely because the majority of them are too hopped up on
intravenous drugs to fucking notice.”
“Just be careful,” Dean sighed, leaning back in his seat as his green hues
focused just past my shoulder. “They’re not our people, Cal. Snakes aren’t good
company.”
I shifted in my seat, following his gaze to where a small group of loud
individuals had entered Pop’s. They appeared to look vaguely similar; dark
hair, leather jackets and vests, heavy boots. The words stitched onto the backs
of their outerwear stuck out like a sore thumbs: SOUTH SIDE SERPENTS. The
double-headed snake curved strategically into an ‘S’. How original, I thought
sneeringly.
My eyes settled onto the only female’s — her hair was faintly tinted pink, her
olive skin three shades darker than the males around her. They all held the
same scowl, the same superiority complex. You didn’t have to be from the area
to know that this group of teens had trouble written in large letters across
their foreheads. My eyes shifted over to the male beside her; his eyes were
already steadily watching me, the corner of his mouth pulled upwards around the
toothpick in between his lips — his hair hung in his eyes, which already
appeared dark. His attention was pulled away from me; he turned his head to the
right, exposing an identical double-headed snake inked into the flesh on his
neck.
Very intense andlegit.
I turned around in my seat as the waitress set the baskets overflowing with
food down on the table; I looked across from me, where Danny was stuck watching
the group a few booths down from us. “Quit it,” Dean warned, biting into his
burger.
“Do you know them?” I asked quietly, taking a small bite out of one of the
curly fries.
“Just the one — he’s a senior.” Danny explained, wedging a fry into his mouth
angrily, “The rest are Don’s year.”
I pursed my lips, pulling my blonde hair back into a sloppy bun, “You got some
kind of beef with him or something?” I asked curiously, raising one brow
teasingly.
“Doesn’t matter — eat your food.” Dean instructed, throwing a fry into my
basket. I lifted it to my mouth, peaking over my shoulder slightly to where the
group sat. They watched other customers, making what could only be elusive
comments about others in the diner.
Unbelievable.
                                     ~ ~ ~
I kept my head down as I walked through the halls. Zero familiar faces meant
zero odds of my social life ever kickstarting. Great.
The further I walked down the hall, the more I started to realize why the boys
wore such dark, beat-up clothing. I, unfortunately, stuck out in the midst of
navy blue, black and forest green. While I wasn’t Legally Blonde-ing a
courtroom in a bright pink suit, I was the obviously outcasted new girl in the
center of (what Dean had oh-so-perfectly labelled) hell. I hugged my textbooks
to my chest and pressed my chin down, making a necessary means to avoid any and
all forms of eye contact.
In between classes over the first few couple of days, I started to realize that
not many students were engaged in the class lectures at all. Most members of
either gang cluttered in groups and talked among themselves — the very few of
us that weren’t affiliated with any sort of criminal cult tried to pay
attention to the teacher’s futile efforts of providing the bare minimal
educational structure of the course.
At the end of each session, I gathered my belongings as quickly and quietly as
I could, trying to avoid drawing attention to myself. Don met me outside
English each day; his friends met us at their table in the back corner of the
cafeteria, out of the eyes and ears of both gangs. I folded my arms, holding my
breath slightly as we passed by the chained fence on the right side of the
cafeteria. The Serpent’s looked up from their seats, watching our movements
closely as we passed by.
My eyes locked with their alpha; I still hadn’t been able to figure out his
name, but it had become glaringly apparent that he was the ring leader for that
particular group of hooligans. I made mental note to avoid speaking with any of
them at all costs — the less eye contact I happened the make, the better.
Except him. Every time I chanced to look in their direction — in his direction
— he’d already be looking at me. Watching my every move. Analyzing me. So I
opted to keep my head down.
With that in mind, I had also noticed that the floors of the hallways were
absolutely disgusting.
I pulled a seat out from the table, sitting across from Danny and his friend,
Josh. “You’re almost at the end of your first week — do you completely hate us
yet?” He asked teasingly, wiggling his fingers towards the bag of chips I
pulled from my bag.
I slapped his hand and scowled, “Don’t kid yourself, Josh,” I grumbled, taking
a bite out of one of the Doritos, “This place is a glorified dive bar — minus
the strippers.”
Don laughed at my words, moving the hat on his head backwards as he straddled
the seat next to me and leaned forward with his arms crossed, “You still insist
on sticking out, though.” He mocked, pulling at the faint-yellow cream cashmere
sleeve closest to him.
I grimaced. Admittedly, I enjoyed being one of the very few girls in the school
that had some sort of fashion sense. I refused to succumb to black jeans and
patterned leggings, combat boots and plaid shirts. It wasn’t so much that I
dressed differently, just better. “Do I look like a bottom-barrel girl? I don’t
look that much different.” I argued, cracking open my can of soda.
Danny lifted his brows, “You’re wearing hoops. Diamond hoops.”
“Cubic zirconia,” I corrected, bringing a finger up to touch one of the
earrings, “And so what?”
“So you look like a fucking Northsider.” Josh laughed, “Adorable, nonetheless,
but still.” Josh had made several failed attempts to flirt; each day he started
with a lame joke, by lunch he was laughing at everything I could say (which, as
ridiculous as it sounded, was equally painful to actually experience). Neither
of my cousin’s had offered to let him down on my behalf lightly, and I didn’t
have the heart to cut him out so I opted to suffer in silence.
He wasn’t unattractive — it was moreso that I made an effort to not get too
emotionally attached to people if I could help it. If this didn’t work out, and
I ended up leaving, I didn’t want to have to be the girl that broke any hearts.
Truthfully, if I wasn’t prone to solidarity, I might’ve actually been able to
see myself pursuing some form of relationship with him. He was tall and
handsome, with trademark dimples and hazel eyes.
“What’s wrong with the Northsiders?” I asked tiredly, crumpling the empty bag
of chips in my palms.
“Technically, nothing,” Danny started, chewing around his apple, “They just
blame most of any issues this damn town has on us. Someone died? Southside.
Teens are hooked on drugs? Southside.”
“Serial killer on the loose?” Donovan added meekly, staring down at the metal
tabletop.
“Southside.” The group nodded in response, their lips pressed into tight lines.
“It leans towards the unsaid, but implied, ‘Serpents’ at the end of it, which
means we get the tailgate of their anger. It’s been a living hell since the
Black Hood arrived.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the general direction of the groups I was certain
brought out the worse for everyone that happened to live south of the tracks: I
peered over the Ghoulies to where the Serpent’s laughed, shoving shoulders with
wide, wicked smiles.
My head jerked with the tight tug on one of my curls; I turned to the
perpetrator and massaged the area of my skull that throbbed, “Do not,” I
started between clenched teeth, narrowing my eyes at Danny, “Touch my hair.” He
held his hands up in defeat, snickering alongside Josh and the others (I had
failed to remember their names — truthfully, I didn’t care too much about them)
as I sunk down in my seat.
***** TWO *****
My first weekend in town was spent exactly how I envisioned it: I applied at
Pop’s for a part time serving job, was essentially hired on the spot and would
start sometime later in the following week. Josh asked if I wanted to drive up
north to go watch a movie Saturday night — I obliged, but had also invited
Danny and Don along. I was forced to sit through some retro-horror film; I
wasn’t particularly a fan of anything involving guts, guns and glory so I opted
out and stood in line to get snacks.
Josh offered to make it up to me by treating me to a milkshake at Pop’s. I was
beginning to realize that this would be a frequent hangout for most teens in
Riverdale, and started to regret my decision of applying.
I spent the better half of my Sunday organizing my room more to my liking; this
was the first full bedroom I’d had to myself since my father died. I pinned
Polaroid photos of my mother and I along the cork-board, added some hooks to
the walls for my jackets and heavier sweaters for the colder seasons. I hung
white Christmas lights along the ropes that held the lanterns, opting out of
using the main light switch entirely.
A box containing most of my belongings that had been kept in storage up until
recently had arrived — I currently sat in the center of my bed, surrounded by
my collections of sketchbooks and drawings. I pulled my hair up into a bun,
flipping aimlessly through the thousands of pages of sketches of faces that had
intrigued me over the years. Without hesitation, I pulled a pencil from the
pencil case, flipped open a fresh page and scrolled through the music playing
from my phone.
Four hours had passed before there was a knock at my door; I turned down the
volume on my phone and pulled the notebook into my chest as the door opened,
“Wow,” Dean commented, looking around the room, “Could’ve sworn you lived here
your whole life.”
“I’m good at this.” I responded impishly, offering him a sad smile.
He mulled through the pages of one of the sketchbooks on his side of the bed,
smiling to himself as he turned the page, “These are good — do you do this a
lot?”
I shrugged, “I guess.” I hadn’t really thought of it to be a hobby, moreso
something I did to pass the time. It was my form of connecting to people,
without ever having to really be apart of their lives. It might have been the
reason why I people watched so much. “Takes my mind off things.”
“How many are there?” He asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he
studied the faces.
“Five in this box — these are the more recent ones. I have another couple boxes
with some in storage back in Greendale.” Dean nodded in understanding. He
closed the book and placed it back on its place on the mattress. “Are you
heading to bed?” I asked, nodding to his flannel bottoms.
He looked down at his legs and nodded stiffly, “I am, yeah. Don is out with the
boys, and I think Danny passed out on the couch an hour ago.”
“You think?” I asked, tightening my arms around the sketchbook.
Dean shrugged, “I can never tell if he’s sleeping or if he’s dead — always
assumed the former.” He patted my knee awkwardly before he stood from the bed,
“Sleep tight, kid.” He called from the door, shutting it behind him. I let out
a long sigh, looking down at the drawing in my hand.
His jacket sat a little lopsided, although I’m sure that was more than fitting.
His shoulders were hunched over, hands shoved into the deep pockets of his
jacket. I was certain the next drawing would feature more facial structure, but
for the time being I was perfectly content capturing his solidarity in his body
language.
                                     ~ ~ ~
Monday morning, I strolled into Mr Birdy’s Biology lecture with my bag slung
over my shoulder. I pulled my brows together and made my way to my desk on the
far end of the room. Close enough to the front that I could see and learn, far
enough away that I was out of range from the pack of Serpent’s that sat on the
left-hand side.
“Science,” Mr Birdy started, sanding his hands together once the bell had rung
to signal the beginning of the lecture. “Science requires us to transform into
spies.” Put that way, Birdy almost made science sound fun. I had been here all
of a week, and I put it way past him to make biology anything but fun. “Good
sleuthing takes practice,” he continued.
I turned my head to watch the crowd roll their eyes simultaneously; I laughed
to myself.
“Toni,” He called, looking towards the back of the room, “You’ve sat with SP
all semester. I’d like to think you know him fairly well, yeah?”
I looked to where the pink-haired girl nodded slowly, “Unfortunately.” She
teased, nudging her partner in the side.
“I bet a lot of you know each other fairly well — it was familiarity, right?
You sit with the group you’re most comfortable around, people you can trust.
Too bad the best sleuths don’t look for familiarity. Which is why I’m picking
partners for the remainder of the semester.”
My brows pulled together in worry.
“What the fuck, it’s October!” Someone from the back of the classroom called; a
series of grunts and nods in agreement followed. “You can’t pull this crap.”
Birdy held up his hands, “I can pull this crap everyday until the end of the
semester. And if you fail, you’ll be right back in here come next fall and I’ll
pull this crap all over again. So,” He clapped his hands, offering another coy
smile, “Let’s all shut our mouths —”
Unwillingly, the students began to collect their belongings and move to their
designated seating areas. When he came to my row, he stopped at my desk and
peered down at me with a knowing smile, “You’re quite smart for your age.” He
mused quietly, looking over his list as he waited for my response.
I shrugged, “If that’s what you want to call it, sure. I’m smart.”
“Hey, SP. You’ll be sitting with Miss …” He looked over his sheet, pulling his
brows together in the middle. I visibly slumped, defeated and rubbed my
forehead, “Calli-ope?”
“Cal, is fine, thanks.” I grumbled, moving my textbooks off the left side of
the two-seated biology desk and dropped my bag between my legs on the floor.
“Cal it is.” He nodded, marking it down on his chart before he continued on to
the pairing behind me. I pressed my lips together; SP slouched into the seat
next to me.
“Hi, I’m Callio —” I smiled weakly, which diminished quickly once I had
realized who exactly SP was. The vein under his tattooed neck pumped
periodically. His brown eyes sliced into me, and the corners of his mouth
tilted up. My heart thundered erratically against my chest, and in that
momentary pause, I felt weak and completely at his mercy. As though he were the
only individual in the room. It vanished in an instant, but I was still staring
at him. His smile wasn’t friendly. It was a smile that spelled trouble.
With a promise.
The rest of the period had been dedicated to learning about our new partners;
each student needed to come up with a total of fifteen completely unobvious
details about their partner to hand in the following day. While that seemed
simple enough, SP simply wasn’t interested in speaking. Instead of trying to
force conversation, I stared forward blankly and gnawed on my lower lip.
A few moments later I heard the gentle glide of his pencil — I peered over to
where his notebook sat open, and pulled my eyebrows together in annoyance. Ten
minutes sitting next to me didn’t qualify him to make any sort of assumption
about me.
“What are you writing?” I demanded, leaning forward onto the black counter top.
“Speaks English.” He mumbled, scrawling it down lazily before he looked up to
meet my bewildered stare and cracked a sly smile as he slapped his notebook
shut.
I licked my lips and turned in my seat, holding my pen steady, poised to write,
“What does ‘SP’ stand for?” He blinked, leaning back in his chair, watching me
closely. “Your name?” I asked again, clenching my jaw.
“Sweet Pea.” He said quietly, bracing his hands on his thighs.
“Sweet Pea?” I asked dubiously, narrowing my eyes. “This isn’t funny, dude —”
“I’m being serious.” He replied, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s stands
for Sweet Pea. Yours?”
I pressed my lips together and inhaled deeply, “Cal.”
He shook his head, smiling at my reluctance, “Full name.”
“Why do you want to know?”
Sweet Pea smirked, “It’s more intimate.”
I licked my lips again, “Calliope.” I mumbled. “What do you do in your free
time?” I asked hastily, writing his name across the top of my page in bold
letters.
“I don’t have much free time.”
I paused, trying to hold my composure as I rolled my neck to look at him, “I’m
assuming he means business, so do me a favour?”
His eyes dropped across the length of my body, pausing a moment too long on my
waist. He locked his hands behind his head and leaned back, “What kind of
favour did you you have in mind, sweetness?”
I pressed my mouth together and felt my face drop into a scowl.
“Free time,” He repeated, rocking back slightly as he thought, “I’m apart of a
gang.” He said proudly, as though that were the most obvious answer to
everything that stood true about him.
I wrote BOXING down.
Sweet Pea looked down to what I had printed and chuckled, “You’re not fooling
him,” He mused, jutting his chin towards the front of the room where Birdy sat,
feet perched on top of his desk. “Pretty obvious what boxing is going
represent.”
“Just because you’re all branded like cattle doesn’t mean I’m gonna to openly
advertise your malicious gang-related violence in my homework, ‘kay?” I met his
eyes again, tossing my hair over my shoulder as I rose a single brow in
challenge. I wasn’t entirely sure what had come over me — I typically tried my
best to keep quiet, and tried to do so more now that I was desperately avoiding
any form of contact with either Southside gang as a whole. And here I was,
stuck sitting next to the Serpent poster boy for what I could only assume would
be the remainder of the semester.
Sweet Pea’s lips threatened a smile, his eyes carefully watching my own as he
sat forward; he hooked his fingers under the seat of my chair, dragging me
closer to him. Not sure if I should scoot away and show fear, or do nothing and
feign boredom, I chose the latter. “Passing judgement is a weakness, y’know.”
He said quietly.
I sat upright and inhaled deeply, “Am I wrong?”
He left his mouth ajar for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should
really answer that question. “Do you sleep naked?”
I choked on air, looking around the room. No one else was really interacting
with who they were supposed to be speaking to — Serpents were yelling to each
other from across the room, filling the empty space with noise. No one was
listening in, thank god. “You’d be the last to know.” I bit back, scooting my
chair away from his body.
“Done anything illegal?”
“No.” I lied, looking sideways at him. “Can’t you ask me normal questions? Like
what my favourite colour is and stuff like that?”
Sweet Pea snorted, “I’m not going to ask what I can guess.”
“You don’t know what my favourite colour is.”
“Red — or purple. Hard to tell, but you wear a weird mixture of the two a lot.”
I craned my neck and looked at him in confusion, “What?”
Sweet Pea shrugged, “Last week you wore, what … three different tops that all
looked burgundy? Maroon? Eggplant? I’m not really sure, honestly.”
“How did you know what I was wearing?”
He lifted a brow, “We share four classes together.” He stated, as though it
were the most obvious fact.
“No we don’t.” I responded, rearing my thoughts back to all my courses
throughout my day. “I didn’t even know we had bio together until fifteen
minutes ago —”
“You’re not very observant, are you?” He asked, leaning forward on the desk.
When I failed to respond, he continued, “Apart from Biology, we have Marketing,
History and Fitness together.”
“We do not have Fitness together.” I snapped back. I hadn’t seen him once all
week last week — I spent a large majority of my time listening to the girls
that did participate fawn over the males as they worked out.
Sweet Pea shook his head, handing me his timetable, “Sorry, princess.” He
teased as my brows pulled together when I realized we did in fact share the
same gym period.
“I never see you.” I accused, handing him back his paper.
He shrugged, “I said we had it together, not that I went to it.”
My eyes swept over the hint of bicep that strained under his shirt, “Right.” I
swallowed, pulling my eyes away as the bell rang. Sweet Pea shoved his pencil
and notebook into his bag, and slung it over his shoulder. I watched him walk
away towards the front of the room, “Hey — wait!” I called. I hastily shoved my
belongings into my backpack, grabbing my phone off the table as I sprinted out
after him, “Sweet Pea, I didn’t get anything on you!” I called out to him.
He stopped, turned back around and walked up to me with a grin. He grabbed my
arm, shoved the material of my sweater up and scribbled across my forearm. I
looked down at the angry blue digits and let my mouth drop open.
“I have plans tonight.” I lied, looking up at him with hard eyes.
Sweet Pea smiled, bumping fists with a fellow Serpent as he began to walk
backwards, “So do I.” He responded with a smirk, winking as he spun on his
heels.
“I won’t call!” I called loudly, ignoring the stares of the students around me.
                                     ~ ~ ~
I sat at the kitchen table with my back pressed against the wall, pushing the
food around on my plate. Danny had attempted to re-create homemade poutine, but
the gravy had some out with less substance than intended. Not wanting to mess
around with the measurements he had (apparently) carefully added together, he
served it regardless. Don and Josh sat in the living room, the television
blasting music as they sat on opposite sides of the sofa, scrolling through
their phones.
“Not hungry?” Danny asked, back turned to me as he scrubbed at the pot in his
hand.
My automatic instinct was to please him by shoveling a forkful into my mouth —
and then I had remembered that Dean had been completely understanding in my
picky eating habits and had went as far as to voice (openly) that it wouldn’t
cause any issues. I pushed the plate away slightly, leaning forward onto the
table with my arms, “Not really — A plus for effort, though.” I smiled weakly,
meeting his eyes.
“I say next time we just use some pre-made shit and call it good, deal?”
I laughed, “Deal.”
We sat in silence for a few moments as I scrolled through social media; I had a
habit of keeping up with classmates from the past I had grown particularly fond
of. While I tried to restrict my interaction and kept friendships to a bare-
minimum, I wasn’t capable of keeping every being on this planet out of my life.
My childhood friend Sabine was still the center of my whole universe. I hadn’t
really seen her since my father died — my move from Pelham to Greendale was
quick and messy. I was only allowed to bring what I could fit into a duffel and
my backpack, the rest had gone straight into storage and would be held until I
turned of age.
Once I was eighteen, I was informed that it would be my responsibility to come
pick up my belongings. If I did not claim anything within the first month, the
waiver indicated that the state had the right to auction off the contents in
the storage closet to the open public.
Not that anything was of any value or worth — truthfully, there was only one
item in storage I couldn’t wait to get my hands on.
“Hey, Cal!” I heard Don call from the living room. I cleared my plate into the
trashcan, slipped it into the sink around Danny’s frame and wandered down the
hall.
“What up?” I asked casually, leaning against the wall.
Josh looked up over his shoulder, offering a wide, warm smile, “We’re gonna
head up to Roller Rink for nine — wanna come with?” He asked, holding up his
phone screen. From what I could see on the banner, they were advertising a teen
roller junction.
“And risk bruising my ass? Pass.” I said, holding up a hand. “I don’t skate.”
“C’mon, I’ll teach you.” He tried again.
Don snorted, “Yeah, teach you how to break your fucking tailbone.”
Josh snapped his head to the right, glaring at Don, “That was one time.” He
grumbled.
I shoved my hands into the back pocket of my jeans, “It’s fine — really. I’ve
got some homework to finish anyway.”
Danny joined us, wiping his hands on his denim, “Heard you got stuck with
Sweets as a bio partner.”
Don and Josh shared a look, then craned their necks to look at me fully, “Wait,
wait, wait,” Don started, sitting upright on the couch, “You’re partnered with
Sweet Pea?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, tucking my hair behind my ear, “What about it?”
“If the guy ever gives you a hard time, let us know.” He said seriously,
tucking his chin to his neck. “The guy’s a total basket case — “
“Fangs is worse — the whole group is one big bundle of fucked up.” Josh added,
cracking his knuckles.
I thought back to the suggestive comment Sweet Pea had made earlier, and
shrugged, “Thanks, but I think I can take care of myself.” I said in dismissal,
turning towards the stairs.
Danny caught my arm, “We’re just looking out for you.”
I paused, looking down to where his fingers gently gripped my wrist. I forced
myself to nod, pressing my mouth into a firm line, “I know.” I responded,
adding a small nod to show my appreciation. Truthfully, I hadn’t expected the
boys to offer such a solid foundation of protection. The way they had spoken
about the Serpent’s had me believing that they were force that wasn’t to be
reckoned with. And yet, here they were, foolishly offering to go on a suicide
mission should Sweet Pea give me a hard time.
Fact: Sweet Pea had already given me a hard time, but I wouldn’t let him get
under my skin.
“I’m gonna go finish my homework.” I mumbled quietly, taking the stairs two at
a time when Danny released his grip. Once behind my bedroom door, I flipped the
lock and leaned against the wood. I couldn’t pin-point exactly what I was
feeling. I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t hungry, I wasn’t bored. I was, however, a
little restless about my biology assignment. I told Sweets I wouldn’t call, and
ten hours ago I had meant it. But as the night dragged on, I felt an
overwhelming sensation of anxiety creep over my bones.
Begrudgingly, I pulled my phone off it’s charger, shoved my sleeve up to my
elbow and tried to make out the numbers that had faded over the day. I secretly
hoped that he wouldn’t answer — that I could rest easily on the idea that I had
made an honest effort to finish an assignment, but that he was simply that
uncooperative. Birdy wouldn’t see a reason to keep the seating plan — I could
go back to sitting alone. No Sweet Pea needed in my bubble.
He answered on the fifth ring, “What up?”
I replied cooly, “I’m calling to see if we can meet up. I know you’re busy, but
I really can’t afford —”
“Calliope,” He said my name like he owned it. My full name, nonetheless. I
clenched my jaw and closed my hand into a fist, “I thought you said you weren’t
going to call.”
I swallowed my pride, running my hand over my face tiredly, “Can we meet or
not?”
“Can’t.” He responded immediately.
“Can’t or won’t?” I pressed, narrowing my eyes at my bed, envisioning his smug
smirk in my mind.
“I’m in the middle of an important pool game.” He said absently; the clatter of
the phenolic resin balls hitting each other in the background verified his
statement.
I gnawed on my lower lip, disbelieving that his pool game were really more
important than my grade in biology. “Where are you?” I asked hastily, already
moving towards my closet to pull a jacket from one of the hangers.
I heard a snort, “Whyte Wyrm.” He said, smile evident in his tone. “Not really
your kind of hangout.” He added.
I sighed angrily, “Then let’s do this over the phone — there’s only fourteen
more questions I have and —”
The dial tone sounded in my ear. Sweet Pea had hung up on me. I pulled the
phone away from my ear, disbelieving. I pulled my brow together, clenching my
jaw tightly as I tossed the device onto my bed.
I collapsed onto the mattress in defeat. I pulled the phone up, and stared at
the numbers. It was already 8:34 PM — the way I saw it, I had two choices. I
either fabricated my assignment, and risked Birdy failing me for the lack of
initiative, or I walked to the Whyte Wyrm. The second option wasn’t even
remotely tempting.
I blew out another sigh, watching as the clock switched to 8:35 PM. Against
better judgement, I sat upright and slipped the jacket I had pulled from the
closet on over my arms. I let my bun fall free, and ran my fingers through my
blonde tresses. If there was one thing I could thank my mother for, it would be
for my looks. My blonde hair, and pretty eyes. Girls tended not to like me for
what they concluded to be my ‘obvious’ beauty — sure, I enjoyed the idea that
women saw me as a threat. But my attractiveness didn’t make me want to fit in.
I liked being alone.
What I liked more was being that one loner chick with kick ass hoops and bomb
false-lashes.
I second guessed myself for the slightest moment, and after two seconds I shook
my head and pulled out the warm brown lipstick from the black makeup bag. I
sweared it on, smudging the eyeliner under my eye a little to give them more of
a smokey look before I nodded in approval and pulled my bedroom door open.
The television downstairs had been shut off; the boy’s boots were gone, and the
door had been locked. They had already left for the Roller Rink.
I didn’t know my way around town, but it wasn’t fairly big which meant I was
standing at the light across the street from the bar labelled Whyte Wyrm. I
shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket, and moved in between the bikes
that lined up along the side of the black-painted building, pulling the red and
black door open with more force than necessary.
Full of Ivy Leaguers and model-citizens, I quipped sneeringly to myself. I
tried to keep my thoughts lofty and nonchalant, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy
quake in my stomach. There was something about this place. I pulled the jacket
tighter around my body, and let my eyes scan the crowd. There were many eyes
staring at me in wonder, man of which were narrowed cautiously.
The floor was littered with cigarette butts and the air was thick with smoke.
Not just typical cigarette smoke — but cigar smoke. I grimaced.
He was bent over the table, hands steadily working against the table to prep
for his shot. “Sweets!” I called, watching his pool stick jutt too quickly and
hit the table. He looked up at me from under his dark hair, then stood with
curiosity and surprise etched into his features. I wandered towards the table,
moving with more purpose. More electricity. More animosity.
More confidence.
“Sorry about the hangup, princess,” Sweet Pea said, coming beside me. With a
tilt of his head, Sweets motioned the others to leave. There was an uneasy
silence before anybody moved. The first guy to leave (short hair, broad
shoulders — recognizable as a student from Southside High) bumped into my
shoulder as he walked past. I took a step back to balance myself and looked up
just in time to receive cold eyes from the other two players as they departed.
Definitely more terrifying when you were up close and personal.
“A few quick questions and then I’m out of here.” I said simply, holding up my
notebook.
His eyes glanced over the page, “Rude … Will die of lung cancer. Or a gunshot
wound,” He added, looking down at me as though he were impressed with my lack
of creativity, “Is this supposed to be prophetic or?”
I pulled the booklet from his hand angrily and slapped it down onto the pool
table that wasn’t occupied by any balls, “Religion?”
“Religion?” He repeated, pulling his brows together.
“Yeah. Religion. Faith. Communion —”
“I belong to a gang, does it look like I follow a religion?”
I contemplated his words, chewing on the inside of my lip before I shrugged,
“Nope.” I muttered, writing that down on the paper. “Biggest dream?” I asked
lazily, half-expecting him to sit on it and think (seriously) for one second.
“Dance with you.” He said around a smile, his voice suddenly behind me, too
close for comfort. I shot upright, moving one of the balls across the table,
“You’re messing up the game.” He noted, still smiling as he leaned against his
pool stick.
“That’s enough.” I growled, narrowing my eyes at him, “It’s not funny.”
“Made you blush.”
I shook my head, trying to remain confident, “You’re provoking me.” I accused.
“Your mouth looks provocative when you talk. I bet a lot of boys kiss you.” He
pressed, leaning forward with the left side of his mouth pulled up into a large
grin.
“We’re done.” I stated, slamming my notebook shut with more force than
necessary on the green of the table. “I don’t like sitting with you, I don’t
like talking to you. I don’t like your smug smile,” My eye twitched slightly —
something that typically happened when I was lying. In this very moment, I
sincerely hoped it was by mere coincidence. “I don’t like you.” I tried to
sound as convincing as possible, thrusting his pool stick into his chest.
He stood tall; I hadn’t realized until that moment how tall he actually was. He
towered over me, well over a foot taller, in fact. He grabbed his pool cue,
“Are we done here?” He asked, eyes hard, “Any more questions? Comments?” When I
didn’t indicate I had any left for him, he nodded to the group behind me and
moved back into position. “Then I’ll see you in bio.” He concluded, striking
the ball loudly, sinking the purple ball into the right-side corner pocket.
I rushed home, desperate to wash the stench of the bar out of my hair, off of
my skin. I felt a thousand times heavier as I entered the door to the house,
leaning against the wood as I ran a hand through my hair. In the midst of
trying to convince myself that I despised Sweet Pea, I may have actually
offended him and created an unwanted target on my back.
I tried not to let that bother me too much as I flipped the hot water on full
blast.
I didn’t get sleep that night.
***** THREE *****
I sat slumped forward in my seat, arms wrapped around my bag. Every so often,
my eyes would threaten to slip shut, and I’d have to remind myself that while
this wasn’t exactly the best excuse for an educational facility, I still needed
to be awake and at full attention. Especially with Sweet Pea hovering
dangerously close.
I ran my hands over my face tiredly, pulling on the skin beneath my eyes
slightly as I let out a quiet groan. From the corner of my eye, I could see
Sweets eyebrows raise in question. I thought about muttering something about
losing sleep over him, thought about letting him know that I had created that
much anxiety for myself over a stupid biology project that he couldn’t even be
bothered to participate in.
I had scribbled down unwilling to work and lazy under the bullet points I
already had from the previous night. While I was certain that was
unsatisfactory in Mr Birdy’s eyes, it would have to do. Perhaps it would get a
message across that working with Sweets was just a bad idea.
“Cal?” I snapped my attention to the front, watching the faces of several
students turn to me from their small collective groups.
“Can you repeat the question?” I asked quietly, swallowing as I sunk in my
chair.
Birdy sighed, “What qualities are you attracted to in a potential mate?”
“I — what? You want me to list characteristics of a boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
I pressed my lips together firmly, hearing Sweets breathe out a snicker next to
me, “Could you call on someone else first?” I asked, slightly agitated.
Birdy looked down at the floor in defeat, then pointed his finger towards my
partner, “You’re up, SP. What qualities are you looking for?”
“Smart. Attractive. Sensitive.”
“Sensitive?” Birdy repeated, folding his arms, slightly intrigued.
“What does this have to do with science?” Someone asked from the back of the
crowd. Thankful for the distraction, I sat upright in my seat and hastily
flipped through the pages of my textbook, eyeing the board for the chapter he
had instructed us to have read for the day.
“Every single animal on this planet attracts mates with the goal of
reproduction. Frogs swell their bodies, male gorillas beat their chests, birds
dance, so on and so forth. Attraction is the first element of all animal
reproduction, humans included.” Birdy turned to the rest of the class, and held
his hands out, looking to make sure we were all on board. “Perfect, SP. You’re
at a party — or bonfire, whatever it is you do. There’s all different kinds of
girls with all these different variables. You find one that fits your
criteria. So how do you as a male approach the situation?”
Sweets smirked, sitting up proudly, “Divide and conquer.”
“Excellent. What’s next?”
“I have to figure out if she’s game. So I’ll study her — what’s her body
language saying? Is she open, is she pulled back? Does she engage in physical
contact? You know, touch my arm, twirl her hair, that sort of girly bullshit.
Does she bite her lip the way Cal is right now?”
I instinctively pressed my mouth into a tight line and scowled, sending a glare
in his direction. This drew a few snickers from other Serpent’s in the room.
“She’s for it.” He stated confidently, bumping his knee against mine
rhythmically.
I felt the heat creep into my face.
“Now she’s upset.” He continued, leaning forward onto the desk, clearly amused.
“See how she tries to busy herself with her notebook? Trying to pull attention
away from her face, bring it to her hands instead. Both are equally appealing,
if you ask me.”
I nearly choked on the air; instead I leaned forward, hiding my face in my
hands, horribly mortified by being the topic of conversation. The class erupted
into a chorus of laughter — I felt my eyes sting the slightest bit, trying to
remind myself that one boy and his cocky know-it-all demeanor were not going to
set a reputation for me in this pathetic excuse for a school. I turned to look
at him with a vindictive glare, wrapping my slender fingers around my mother’s
necklace as he studied me carefully.
Birdy had somehow managed to capture the remaining students attention; the rest
of the period had turned into several of the males trying to dehumanize their
respective female partners in the same way Sweets had humiliated me. 
He definitely hated me. I was absolutely convinced that Sweet Pea was over
trying to make me blush or try his luck.
When the bell dismissed the group, I hardly wanted to wait and stick around to
get the tailgate of Birdy’s instructions for the reading that night. Instead of
bolted out of the room, pulling the hood of my sweater up over my head, keeping
my chin close to my chest as I beelined for the girls bathroom.
The group of girls smoking in the corner next to the mirrors watched me as my
shoulders shook and my chest heaved, “Get out.” I stumbled over the words,
feeling the heat saturate my cheeks once more. Their faces contorted in
confusion, ignoring my words. I tried again, “Get out!” I demanded louder,
pointing a shaky finger towards the door.
They left slowly, gathering their belongings into their bags prior to exiting
out of the bathroom. Once the door was shut, I gripped the sink tightly,
staring myself down in the mirror.
I greatly disliked all forms of attention — especially negative attention.
Unknowingly, Sweets had just labelled me as a prime candidate for continuous
banter; eventually, the rest of the school would find out about our episode
during second period and the entire student body would be watching my every
move. I had intended to blend in as best as I could, had even opted to wear
colours that drew in less attention, courtesy of Danny’s limited dark wardrobe.
All of these efforts were futile and had been destroyed in less than five
minutes by the Southside Serpent alpha male.
“You look like a mess.” I snapped my eyes up in the reflection of the mirror to
where the brunette stood, watching me carefully from the door. “Trouble in
paradise?” She asked with a snort, moving to the sink next to me. She was just
a few inches taller than I was, her brown hair was left to frame her face, wild
and curled.
I turned my attention back to the sink, turning the faucet on to watch as the
sink filled with cold water. “I’m fine,” I lied, shoving my hands into the
water. “Just tired.” That wasn’t a whole lie — I hadn’t slept for twenty four
hours, and I wasn’t exactly known for my insomnia.
“Don’t let Pea get to you.” The girl tried, casting a sideways glance at me,
her voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, that’s definitely expected SP
behaviour — but not necessarily to that extent.”
I dropped my head, pulling air into my lungs with more focus than necessary, “I
told him I didn’t like him.” I grumbled after a while, turning the faucet off.
I watched the girl pull her eyebrows up in surprise, right before her lips
cracked into a large smile and she let out a loud laugh. “Girl,” She started,
patting me on the shoulder, “That is single-handedly the most badass thing I’ve
ever heard — we have to be friends, I won’t take no for an answer.”
I pushed away from the sink, running my fingers through my hair nervously, “Uh,
I don’t really do the whole friend thing — but thanks for the offer.”
She paused for a moment, quiet as I gathered my bag off the floor and
readjusted my shirt, “I’m Kabrina.”
I halted my movements, watching my reflection in the mirror. I tried to keep
the annoyance from striking across my features; admittedly, I had wondered if
one female friend in this hellhole might ease my conscious. I pursed my lips
together as I holded my arms and turned to face her fully; she definitely
filled out more in areas that I lacked. Her hips were set wider, making her
waist appear smaller — which in turn made her chest appear larger. I envied
that.
“Cal.” I said cautiously, extending my hand forward to shake hers. “How did you
hear about what happened with SP?”
“I sit in the back,” She responded, pulling a tube of lip-gloss from her
pocket. “I’ve never seen him more engaged in his education — which benefits
him, I guess, he can’t really afford to fail again.”
I pulled my brow together, following her out of the restroom, “Again?”
“Sweets is a senior.” Kabrina explained, folding her arms across her chest,
“Technically.”
“But?” I asked, keeping my voice low as we entered the cafeteria.
“Not sure if he was held back, or if he missed a year. He got moved around a
lot as a kid — at least that’s what they tell me.” She laughed, sticking some
change into the vending machine. A group of Ghoulies stood on the other side of
the bright blue machine, watching us closely. We waited until we were out of
earshot before Kabrina continued, “He’s a year older than the rest of us
sophomores, but he’s in all of our classes. It’s probable he failed and was
held back.”
I considered this, nodding slowly to myself as I grabbed her hand and led her
to where my cousin’s and their friends typically sat; “Assuming you’re neither
Ghoulie or Serpent, you’re welcome to join us.” I stated, turning to Danny with
a smile.
“You made a friend.” He noted, taking a bite out of his sandwich.
I nodded, “I did — this is Kabri —”
“Kabrina Sobon.” Josh finished, smiling up at her frame as he scooted over,
“Southside’s very own bad and boujee.”
I grimaced the terms, taking my seat next to Don. “That’s gross,” I muttered,
shoving my hands into my sweater pockets.
Kabrina laughed lightly, dropping her bag onto the table top as she sat in the
chair in between Danny and Josh, “What are you girls gossiping about now?” She
asked, nudging Danny with her elbow.
“Sweets little escapade in bio this morning.” Don replied grimly, looking over
Danny’s shoulder to where the Serpent’s sat tucked away in their little portion
of the cafeteria. I snapped my eyes to Donovan’s quickly, shaking my head a
little.
“What happened in bio?” Danny asked me, raising a brow.
I shrugged, “Typical Sweet Pea behaviour — that’s all.” I lied, trying my best
to make it sound as though there was nothing to be worried about. “No biggie.”
I added, cracking my lips into a grin.
Throughout the remainder of the day, I noticed that the Serpents had shifted; I
had completely overlooked it in Marketing, but I definitely noticed in History
when Sweets strolled in, shot me a sly smirk before he proceeded to kick out
the student from his seat in front of me.
My brows pulled together when he straddled the chair and sat down facing me,
folding his arms across the top of my desk. His brown hues were bright and
playful, the corner of his lips upturned into a smile that made me want to
squirm uncomfortably in my seat.
We sat like that for about thirty seconds before I decided to break the
silence; I sat back in my chair and folded my legs overtop one another, “Can I
help you?” I asked tiredly, trying to feign boredom.
Sweet Pea’s lips broke into a wider smile, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”
I narrowed my eyes, folding my arms across my chest, “Was what I said last
night too subtle for you?” I asked, letting my tone slip the slightest to
appear condescending. “Because I distinctly remember mentioning that I didn’t
like sitting with you —”
“But we had so much fun this morning,” He cut me off, propping his chin up with
his knuckles.
“Right. Fun.” I grumbled, flipping open my textbook as the teacher entered the
room.
“You don’t think so?” He asked, dropping his face to my eye-level. There seemed
to be genuine concern in his features, his mouth and eyes softening the
slightest.
“If you insist on making my life here insufferable, could you at least pretend
to pay attention in class?” I responded, clenching my jaw tightly after I had
finished speaking. I glared past his head, trying to indicate that the
conversation was over. Sweet Pea, after careful assessment, nodded once and
turned in his seat. I spent a better half of the period staring at the back of
his skull, trying not to think of how utterly satisfying it would be to just
smack him.
I tried to force my shoulders to relax as I made my way to my last period,
knowing he wouldn’t be there. I pulled my hair up into a pony, and exited the
gymnasium to fill up my water bottle at the fountain just outside the doors.
Through the tiny window, I could see the top of a familiar head — I burst
through the doors angrily, open palms placed on his broad chest as I shoved
him, “What iswrong with you?” I growled, looking up at his height with a
venomous glare.
“Easy, princess.” He warned, rocking back on his heels. His arms folded neatly
across his chest; for the first time, I noticed the rings on his left hand and
the tattoo on his right thumb.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, mocking his stance as I folded my own
arms and tried to (unsuccessfully) hold my ground.
SP lifted an eyebrow, pulling the corner of his lip up along with it,
“Technically, I have fitness.” He replied smugly, his smile only growing
further when he noticed the disdain on my face.
“You don’t come to fitness.” I accused, narrowing my eyes.
“Maybe I should to start — get my beach bod and all that.” He joked, leaning
against the wall beside the fountain. I watched him carefully, then slowly
twisted the cap off my bottle and stuck it under the faucet. “I noticed you’re
hangin’ with Bri now.”
I pulled my brows together, “Who?”
“Bri.” When I lifted a brow, clearly confused, he repeated, “Kabrina?”
“Oh, her.” I said stiffly, feeling my lips tug down at the ends. “Uh, yeah,
she’s a friend. Sort of. I guess.”
Sweet Pea nodded once, shaking his head a little to keep the hair from falling
directly into his eyes, “Not exactly the greatest company, princess.”
“First of all, stop calling me princess.” I demanded, twisting the lid back
onto my water bottle, “Second of all, I highly doubt she’s worse company than a
snake.”
“Ouch,” He pressed his palm to his chest in mock hurt, “That really hurt my
feelings, Callie.”
I rolled my eyes, exaggerating the sigh that I forced past my lips. Spending
three periods a day with Sweet Pea was exhausting and traumatizing enough;
having fitness be the only place I have some sanctuary in this god forsaken
hellhole, it was unnerving that he suddenly decided to show up. The semester
was halfway over — obviously, SP was taking torment to a whole other level. Was
he purposely trying to bother me? Did he take pleasure in making me severely
uncomfortable? “I’m sure your ego isn’t bruised too badly.”
“I’m just being honest; Sobon is notorious for latching onto good girls and
sucking the innocence out of them.” He stated matter-o-factly with a smug grin.
“I’d hate to see such a pretty face crumble.”
“That’s cute,” I responded, feigning innocence as I leaned against the wall and
placed a hand on my hip, “You think I’m a good girl.”
His face dropped, causing the warmth in his eyes to disappear as his grin
shifted. It was that damn smile —  a smile that screamed I should run, caused
my stomach and turn uneasily. Definitely the smile of a boy that guaranteed
trouble. “I know you’re a good girl.” Sweets moved forward — I felt my body
freeze involuntarily as his fingers came up to tuck stray hairs behind my ear,
his thumb gently caressing my ear, “Blonde hair, blue eyes,” He started listing
off attributes, his eyes thoroughly scanning over my body, “What — five feet?
Four eleven?” SP took a step back, tilting his head to the side. “Pouty lips —”
“Stop.” I stammered, standing upright as I smacked his hand away from my face.
“Stereotyping me doesn’t make me a good girl —”
Sweets rolled his eyes, “C’mon, baby, you’re killin’ me here.” He groaned,
leaning forward with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, “You look like a
fuckin’ Northsider that took a detour and got lost — and let’s not forget about
the fact that you’re probably the only student here that takes this piece of
shit school seriously.”
I licked my lips as I fumbled with the label on my water bottle, “Y’know, good
grades mean more post-secondary options — which means moving far, far away from
here.”
“You think I could leave?” He asked suddenly, his voice dropping the light-
hearted playfulness tone (that I wasn’t even aware it had taken on), replacing
it with animosity. “That college is really an option for someone like me?” He
didn’t have to say it outloud for me to know what he was referring to. I let my
eyes scan over the tattoo on his neck, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.
“If you’re as smart Birdy claims you are, then you’ve already put two and two
together —”
“And that’s how you’re gonna spend the rest of your life? Under the table drug
deals, hanging out at dive bars, reliving the good ol’days?” I asked
sarcastically, taking a step towards him. “I highly doubt that’s all you want
for yourself, Sweet Pea.”
“It’s not about what I want.” Sweets said firmly, standing upright and tall,
“My world is black and white, not grey. What I want and what I’m going to get
are two entirely different things.” There seemed to be a sadness to his voice;
I tried not to think too much into it. We stood in silence for a few moments,
staring at each other blankly before I heaved a sigh and took a step back.
“Well I know what I want.” I replied simply. I had it all sorted out in my
head. As soon as I had turned sixteen, I promised myself that I’d pack
everything that mattered and leave the state altogether. I’d head North, end up
somewhere just over the border. I wasn’t held to Riverdale or Greendale by any
obligations — programs I had already looked into were better in Canada.
Cheaper, too. As soon as I graduated, I’d leave. I’d never look back, I’d never
come back.
That was a goddamn promise.
I tightened my pony, and smiled to myself, “I’m getting out of here as soon as
I can.”
“Is that so?” SP asked, taking a step forward. I hadn’t realized how
compromising my current situation really was until my back was pressed against
the cool wall, the door blocked by his large frame. I nodded vigorously, not
trusting my voice.
Sweet Pea placed his hands on the wall on either side of my head, leaning down
so that he could be at eye-level with me, forcing me to keep eye contact. It
wasn’t until that moment that I had really (I mean, really) looked at him. His
eyes were a pretty brown hue, with flecks of gold around the pupils. There was
a faintest (faintest) hint of warm brown freckles across the bridge of his
nose, and he smelt like cigar smoke and motor-oil (his breath, however, seemed
to smell minty).
“I don’t plan on sticking around long.” I mumbled quietly, licking my lips
again, “Try not to get too attached.”
Sweet Pea smirked, “Promise I won’t if you won’t.” He lowered his hand to rest
in between us; his middle finger was extended, similar to how pinkies were
extended to solidify promises. I hesitated briefly before I brought my middle
finger to his and linked them tightly, pleasantly surprised by his warmth.
Using his strength, he pulled on my grip to bring us closer, his jaw working
under the skin as he leaned down, warm breath saturating the hair just above my
ear, “Now get back to class.” 
***** FOUR *****
Josh and I sat back to back in the living room as Danny flipped through the
television channels, head propped up by his arm. I tried to keep steady as I
ran my pencil along the paper, defining the jawline. “So he’s really taking her
on a date, huh?” I asked absently, hunching over my sketchbook.
“Mhm,” Danny replied, stretching out his legs, “Only took him three years to
get the balls to ask her out, too.”
I flipped onto my back, shoving my feet into Josh’s lap as I shivered
involuntarily, “Cold?” He asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow as he
grabbed my foot and added pressure to the sole.
“A little — not too bad, though.” I mused, hugging the sketchbook to my chest.
Danny looked over to where I laid and pulled his brows together, “What’re you
drawing?”
“Nothing.” I replied smoothly, offering him an innocent smile. As much as I
loved my cousins, I didn’t want them knowing about my fascination with the gang
members in our immediate area. Lately, I had occupied my free time musing over
their sharp features and obscene styles. I didn’t dare bring the sketchbook to
school, moreso opted to studying them from afar.
I had successfully managed to complete my first shift as a waitress at Pop’s
without messing up a single order — and had racked up enough tips to start a
savings jar, which would hopefully fund my first vehicle purchase. I’d have to
get to Canada somehow. I looked down to where Josh sat; his dirty blonde hair
was pulled back effortlessly, eyes intently focused on the foot in his hand as
he kneaded and worked his thumbs.
“Do I need to tell y’all to get a room?” Dean asked from behind me, wiping his
hands on a small towel. I looked up at his tall frame with a warning glare,
“I’m kidding.” He sneered, leaning forward to smack me in the stomach with the
towel.
Every day went on like this; if I wasn’t working at Pop’s or finishing homework
with Bri (also at Pop’s), then I was stuck on the couch with my cousin’s and
their friends. I hadn’t bothered learning all of their names — they only came
by whenever they had nothing else to do, and even then there only seemed to be
one that mattered to either of the boys was Josh. I had at least attempted to
play nice with him, even when his persistence had grown from mildly cute to
flatout annoying.
I pulled vigorously on my locker, letting out a breath of frustration when it
failed to open for the seventh time in a row. Out of all of the things this
school really needed funding for, I’m sure lockers were at the bottom of the
list and that only further pressed my annoyance.
“Need help?”
Confused, I looked up to where the male stood with his friends. I’d people
watched enough to know that the trio of studded leather clad douchebags
happened to be a small pack of Ghoulies. The male closest to me was Eddie; he
was in my History class. He and SP had a few encounters in the last few days —
males being typical males in the fight for dominance over territory I was sure
— which had led to Eddie sporting a nasty looking split lip and purple eye.
“I think I’m just gonna leave it.” I said quickly, shooting him a forced smile,
“Thanks anyway.”
“Hey, you’re Cal, right? Don’s cousin.” He leaned against the locker next to
mine, thumbs hooked into his belt loops.
His eyes couldn’t seem to focus clearly on me, almost as though he were trying
incredibly hard to keep himself upright. My father had sported the same look on
occasion — I didn’t take Eddie to be a heavy day drinker, so I leaned more
towards the idea that his head was up in the clouds (figuratively speaking, of
course). “I am. What’s it to you?”
“Donny boy and I go way back,” He snickered, looking over his shoulder to where
his friends stood. They shared the same knowing look. “How about we take you on
a little tour — I’m sure you haven’t had much of a chance to really get to see
all of the perks Southside has to offer.”
Perks? I highly doubted that. “Thanks, but I think I’ve pretty much got it all
figured out.” I mumbled, fixing my bag onto my shoulder. His tone had indicated
he was being entirely suggestive, which I found grotesquely disgusting and
cringeworthy.
“C’mon, don’t be a tease little Hobbs.” One of his goonies stepped forward,
bracing his hands on my shoulders to hold me steady. I rocked back onto my
heels, tightening my arms around my textbook. “Let’s just go have some fun.” He
murmured, pulling the corner of his mouth up in a lopsided SP manner — he
didn’t look nearly as good — and flashed the silver of the pocket knife hiding
in the inside pocket of his jacket.
Part of me wanted to stand up for myself, mutter something about ‘over my dead
body’, but there was something so ironic about that phrase and the reality of
the situation, I didn’t bother. As much as I could have protested, my arms were
tightly secured by the hands of Eddie’s friends. My feet reluctantly moved
forward, heels of my boots deafening in the silence of the hall. I looked over
my shoulder, eyes frantically looking for a familiar face.
We had made it off the school premises before I bothered speaking again, “I
feel like this qualifies as kidnapping.”
I heard Eddie snort unattractively, “You’re not gag-bound and tied; to the
outside world, this is completely consensual.”
“Right. Because intimidation didn’t sway the outcome in your favour at all.” I
spat, glaring up at his tall frame. “It’s pathetic really — what, you couldn’t
convince any other girl to spend some time with you?” I asked, raising a brow
in indifference, “Shocker.”
“Easy, princess.” He warned angrily, spinning on his heels to face me. “We
didn’t want just any girl. We wanted you.”
I narrowed my eyes, ripping my arms out of my captors grips, “Why?” Personally,
I didn’t see the gain in taking me specifically. Fresh meat? Maybe. “Because
I’m a Hobbs?”
“He likes you.” He mocked me, his voice raising an octave, feigning politeness.
“Nobody can seem to figure out why, and I wanted to see what all the fuss was
about.”
I pulled my brows together, flinching when I accidentally backed up into the
tallest of the trio. “Is this about Sweets?” I asked heatedly, gripping the
strap of my bag. Confusion — among many other emotions — pulled me in circles.
Sweet Pea had made it very, very obvious that he took pleasure in making me
incredibly uncomfortable. I hardly doubted that meant he liked me. “You’re
delusional.” I shook my head, “It’s the complete opposite.”
“I don’t think it is.” He swayed, taking a step towards me. “But if you’re
sure, then I definitely won’t have to worry about backlash for mackin’ on some
Serpent slut.”
I pressed my hand against his chest, pushing him back slightly, “Serpent slut?”
I repeated, feeling the space in between my eyebrows disappear as the heat
crept up under my flesh and into my cheeks. A pet name — perfect.
Eddie’s lips cracked into a wicked grin as he leaned down, tilting his head to
the side, “Everyone knows about your little rendezvous with SP, Callie. Whole
school’s talkin’ about it.”
I rolled my eyes, “He humiliated me in front of the class — hardly gossip
worthy.”
Eddie shook his finger, “Nu uh, princess. A little birdie told me you were seen
going into the Whyte Wyrm — that’s Serpent territory. No way anyone in their
right mind takes a step into that bar unless they’re getting something outta
it.”
My throat tightened involuntarily; what did that mean? Did people think I was
really pining after SP? Did they think I was just a junkie looking to fit in
with the wrong crowd? I licked my lips, the overwhelming sensation that my
chest was caving in on me crawled from my shoulders down, weighing down on my
chest. “Funny joke.” I replied dryly.
“Wish I was kidding, toots.” Eddie sighed, standing up right as his hands came
up to roughly grip either side of my face, “That’s okay. We’ll make sure to
show you a good time —”
“Let her go,” The voice boomed over the empty parking lot; my head snapped to
where the voice trailed from, pulling my face out of Eddie’s grasp long enough
to catch a glimpse of Sweet Pea’s hard expression. This was prior to Eddie
pulling roughly on my arm to lock me against his side, lips at my ear.
“Sweets,” He said, almost condescendingly, “We were just talking about you.”
His breath was stale and reeked of cigarettes. I grimaced.
“Let her go.” Sweet Pea repeated, folding his arms across his broad chest.
“And if I don’t?” Eddie asked around a smirk, running his hand down the side of
my waist. I used my right hand to slap his arm away, trying to pull myself out
of his grasp.
No avail.
Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, tongue running along his bottom lip as he turned his
head slightly to look at his friend (the same friend from the Whyte Wyrm),
“I’ll gladly make your eyes a matching set — you’ll look prettier.” He taunted,
taking a step forward. His friends followed.
“So how are you gonna play this?” SP’s friend asked him, keeping a careful eye
on Eddie.
“Divide and conquer.” Sweets replied, tilting his head to the side.
“Divide what?”
Sweet Pea cracked a wicked smile, “His head from the rest of his body.”
His friend nodded quickly, “Good plan.”
Eddie reacted out of what I could only assume was fear; he gripped my arm
tighter and pulled me in front of him, lips still dangerously close to my
flesh. I tensed under his grip, lips pressing into a firm line as I watched SP
carefully. Please don’t do anything stupid —
There was a loud thwack! prior to Eddie’s body slumping forward, causing me to
lose my balance and collapse to the ground with him. I looked over my shoulder
to where Eddie lay; he was completely unconscious. I looked up to where Sweet
Pea and his friend had tight grips around the goons throats, fists swinging
with incredible speed. The male behind me, I recognized him from biology — he
offered me his hand, using all of his strength to pull me up onto my feet. I
gathered my books, shoving my sketchbook into my bag as quickly as I could
muster without adding any more damage to the paper.
The next time I lifted my eyes, Sweet Pea was looking to where I stood with a
face of utter disappointment. “What?” I asked, stepping over Eddie’s
unconscious body.
“What’re you doing hangin’ with these creeps?” He demanded, voice hard and
angry.
I lifted a brow, scanning my eyes down the length of his body. His grey zip-up
was blood stained, but easy to cover up if he was careful to keep his jean vest
in a certain position. There were very few people that could pull of jean on
jean — Sweet Pea somehow fit into the incredibly small percentage of people
that definitely could. “Same reason I hang with you,” I spit, brushing past
him.
“Uh,” I could hear his footsteps behind me, following me back towards the
school. “You could at least say thank you.”
“For what?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. His friends were preoccupied
with hauling the trio of Ghoulies behind the pile of scrap metal by the end of
the lot. I grimaced again, trying not to think about what kind of consequence
could be waiting for me if I didn’t eliminate myself from the immediate area.
“That wasn’t necessary — I’m sure there was another way to approach that
situation.”
“What wasn’t necessary?”
“Violence? Is that your answer for everything?” I asked, glancing over my
shoulder.
“Ed had it comin’.”
I rolled my eyes, “I had it handled.”
Sweet Pea snorted, falling into a casual stroll beside me,
“Yeah, definitely looked that way.”
I sighed in annoyance and stopped in my tracks to glare up at him, “What do you
want from me, dude?”
He met me with an equally annoyed expression, his eyes narrowed. “I want you to
use your fucking head — this isn’t exactly the safest establishment in town.”
He spat venomously, folding his arms across his chest again as he looked down
at me, “Stay out of the east wing, don’t stay after hours alone, don’t go
fucking off with a group of lowlives —”
“I didn’t ask for you to come to my rescue, Pea. Last time I checked, I told
you I didn’t want anything to do with you. You don’t even like me — actually,
I’m completely convinced you hate me and this was just some excuse to get your
hands dirty.”
“Hate you?” He looked down at me, shaking his head. “You’ve got it all wrong,
sweetness. You got beef with me, but you’re cool with them?” He asked, jutting
his chin to gesture to the scene a couple dozen yards behind us.
I shook my head, fixing the placement of my bag on my shoulder, “No,” I sighed,
pinching the bridge of my nose, “I don’t want anything to do with any of you. I
want to come to school, and try to get some sort of education. I want to
graduate with no trace of any gang-affiliation, and I want to pack my bags and
run as far away as I can and never look back.”
“Ditto,” He growled, “But we don’t always get what we want — if FYI, if it
weren’t for my impeccable timing, you’d likely have contracted some sort of
disease.”
I paused for a moment to consider his words. He wasn’t entirely wrong. As much
as I wanted to believe I could’ve gotten myself out of that situation, I knew
the truth as much as he did. If I had any balls, I wouldn’t have gotten stuck
in that situation to begin with. “How did you even know where I was?”
Sweet Pea averted his eyes and shrugged, “I didn’t.” He lied, turning around to
continue to walk towards the school.
I scoffed quietly to myself, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket as
I trudged along behind him. It was ridiculous, how much he resembled an
overgrown infant. “You’re a terrible liar.” I concluded once I reached his
side, struggling to maintain a steady pace with his long legs. He seemed to
notice my difficulty and slowed his pace.
“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.” He said firmly, adjusting the collar on his
jean vest as we reached the the south wing doors. There was a group of bodies
gathered outside the door, watching us with careful eyes as we approached.
“Look, I got some business to attend to. Think you can keep yourself out of
trouble?” He asked when he finally met my eyes; there was nothing joking about
the look on his face.
I nodded slowly, but couldn’t verbalize the promise.
===============================================================================
My hands were shoved deep into the pockets of my jacket as I wandered down the
trail; Pop Tate gave me just enough time after school to get home to change,
instead of bringing my uniform with me to school. Thankful for the time, I
usually opted to walk home and plug myself into my music. There was something
about the way heavy bass lifted my spirit — something about the vision of my
entire body trembling under the intensity of the vibrations that put my mind at
peace. It were as though none of the outside world could harm. A personal
haven.
My thumb absently ran over the volume buttons as I hummed along with the tune,
completely oblivious to the world around me. A solid forty-five minutes a day
was all I needed.
The diner hadn’t been particularly busy that evening. Most parents weren’t too
keen on the idea of their children running around unsupervised while a serial
killer was still running loose. I had heard a few stories from customers over
the last few shifts — but from the sounds of it, Dean had explained it like we
had nothing to worry about. No one from the Southside had been targeted.
Still, that didn’t comfort me.
The bell to the door chimed; I looked up from behind the counter to where he
stood. His brown hues fixed on mine as he slowly settled into an empty booth in
the far corner. His vest remained the same as earlier, but his shirts hadn’t;
he replaced the grey hoodie with a green shirt paired with a red plaid button
up. I sighed indignantly, grabbing a menu from under the till.
I slapped the laminated menu on the table top and then rested my hands on my
hips, “Are you following me or something?” I asked quietly, looking down at
him.
Sweet Pea chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he leaned forward on the
table, “You infiltrated my life, remember?” His voice was less rough, more at
ease. Smoother, almost.
“Right,” I nodded with a smile, folding my arms around my waist. “Where are
your friends?”
He cocked his head to the side; I looked past him out of the window to where a
group of teens dressed down in black and dark hues gathered on their bikes,
laughing simultaneously at something Toni had said. “Did you stay out of
trouble?” He asked quietly.
“I’m here in one piece, so I’d say I managed alright.” I responded, fingers
pulling at a stray piece of fabric on my apron. Sweet Pea sat back in his seat,
looking out to where his friends stood. We were silent for a few moments,
watching the group of teenagers from inside. “Are you going to tell me how you
found me earlier?” I asked quietly.
SP inhaled deeply, eyes focused on the scene outside as he spoke, voice barely
audible. “I got a text from a friend — said they saw you leaving the school
with Eddie.”
I pulled my brows together in confusion, “So you leave class to save every girl
he preys on?”
Sweet Pea looked up at me, eyes soft and mouth taunt, “Not typically, no.”
“Lucky me.” I muttered, pressing my palms into the table as I leaned forward,
“Are you ordering?” When he shook his head, I swiped the menu off the table and
retreated back towards the register. There was some minuscule part of me that
wanted to stop fighting him on everything he said, on everything he did. That I
shouldn’t question his reasoning’s. That what happened was the norm in
Southside — that Sweet Pea was doing what Sweet Pea always did.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t typical Sweet Pea behaviour.
And I wasn’t sure if that scared me more or less. I couldn’t pinpoint which
feeling I wanted to dominate in that moment. I still firmly stood on the
promise I wouldn’t emotionally latch onto anyone, and that included SP. Of all
people, he should’ve been the one to have me running for the hills, screaming
bloody murder.
Maybe he didn’t hate me after all. Maybe Eddie had been right — maybe Sweet Pea
liked me in his own way, and maybe that meant I had to endure slight social
humiliation.
Suppose I entertained the idea. What did he offer that I could invest myself
into? He was tied to this town — that was no good, seeing as I would be gone
within 24 hours after graduation. He was a gang member. And not just any gang
member, or any Serpent. He was the alpha male for the younger generation —
while I was certain he answered to somebody higher up on the totem pole, I
wouldn’t doubt it if the others answered to him.
I looked back to where he sat. He remained slumped forward in his seat, eyes
glued to the window. There was something off in his demeanor, and as odd as it
sounded, that bothered me. Sweet Pea was loud, and cocky. He was full of
himself, and self-righteous. Arrogant. Demeaning. A know-it-all badass with an
attitude problem.
“Hey, Pop?” I called quietly, leaning back into the kitchen where he stood
elbows deep in soapy water. “Can I get a vanilla shake?” I asked, peering over
my shoulder to where SP sat.
The man smiled, pulling the towel off his shoulder to dry his arms, “Sure
thing, Callie.”
I finished counting the till, stocking the extra napkin containers and ensuring
all bottles at the front were full before Pop slipped the tall frosted glass
with the creamy vanilla mixture through the slot. I offered him a smile as I
took the glass, then carefully maneuvered my way over to where the Serpent sat.
I set the glass down in front of him, watching as he looked down at it
confused, trailing his eyes up to mine as I sat across from him in the booth.
“What’s this?”
“My thank you for earlier.” I replied, using the tip of my finger to wipe the
excess whip cream off the side. “I don’t really know what would’ve happened if
you and your friends hadn’t shown up.”
“Yeah, Fangz was real excited to lay into ‘em.” He chuckled, leaning forward
onto the table. He looked at the milkshake, “This was a little unnecessary. How
do you know if I even like vanilla?”
“I don’t,” I replied, pulling the straw out of his fingers, “But I do, so
you’ll deal.” I teased, leaning forward to steal a pull from the straw. Sweet
Pea watched me for a moment before the left corner of his mouth lifted up into
a grin, revealing the slightest hint of a dimple in his cheek.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” SP asked, licking his lips.
I swallowed, “Promise you won’t give up on me?” I asked, sliding the drink back
over to his half of the table. Sweet Pea brought the straw into his mouth,
extending his middle finger out in silent promise. I happily linked mine around
his and smiled.
***** FIVE *****
“Can you attempt to pay attention?” I hissed in annoyance, swatting SP’s hand
away from the rip in my jeans for the fourth time in fifteen minutes. Mr Birdy
shot his eyes in warning over to where we sat; Sweet Pea straightened up in
 his seat, offering the teacher an innocent smile. When all eyes returned to
the front, he leaned down into my ear again.
“You workin’ tonight?” He asked quietly, resting his elbow on the table.
I sighed softly, pulling my eyes away from the front of the room to glance at
him; he was propping his head up on his knuckles, chewing on a piece of gum
with a small grin. I watched his bicep flex involuntarily courtesy of Sweet Pea
rolling and pushing his sleeves all the way up just past the bulk of the
muscle. Admittedly, the first few days of whispering into each others ears had
drawn the attention of the class. Seeing Sweet Pea genuinely enjoy talking to
someone that wasn’t branded in the Serpent logo was obviously unheard of, and
we had piqued the attention of the majority of the student body. Sweets never
seemed to mind the stares.
“Nope,” I replied, popping my ‘p’. My fingers turned the page of the textbook,
trying to follow along with Birdy’s instructions as he flipped on the lights
and listed the exercises for homework. “You can’t keep showing up and
distracting me, anyway, you’re gonna make me look bad.”
“You’re the best there, and Pop knows it.” He said smugly, stretching his grin
wider when his words pulled a small smile from me. He had been giving me small
compliments over the last few days — nothing normal, though, and nothing
relating to my immediate appearance. I would’ve expected a man like Sweet Pea
to stick to the typical, ‘Your hair looks nice today’. Instead he made an
honest effort to compliment parts of my personality or work ethic.
Yesterday, he had mentioned in passing that he really enjoyed my laugh — after
I had mentioned that I hated how noisy it was. “I think it’s adorable,” He said
absently, scrolling through his phone during third period, “I don’t get to hear
it as much as I’d like. So when I do hear it, believe me when I say how loud it
can be is definitely the last thing on my mind.”
“You should be studying for midterms.” I pressed quietly, leaning back in my
seat so that I could put some distance between us, “Seeing as you refuse to
give Birdy your undivided attention.”
Sweet Pea narrowed his eyes, reaching out to pull a stray hair that had fallen
out off my sweater, “And miss out on bugging you?” He asked, pressing the same
hand to his chest, “Never.”
“We do have three other classes together,” I reminded him, folding my legs
overtop one another. “You have almost an entire school day to torment me. Isn’t
that enough?”
“Not even close.” He admitted grimly, sinking back into his chair. I trained my
eyes on his face, hoping for some sort of follow up to that statement. When it
appeared there wouldn’t be one, I exhaled loudly and pulled my sketchbook out
of my bag.
He wasn’t paying attention as far as I could tell; his arms were folded over
his chest as he scrolled through his phone, chin tucked into his chest, causing
his hair to fall over his eyes. I kept my eyes focused on his face, pencil
gliding across the paper as quickly (and carefully) as I could manage. I
started with the cut in his jaw, working to define the bone structure as it
disappeared behind the soft edges of his hair. Fifteen minutes had passed; I
had successfully completed the detail in his facial structure and had full
intentions of perfecting his hair when he looked up from his phone. His face
immediately dropped into a scowl.
“What are you doing?” He demanded, craning his neck to peek over the edge of
the booklet.
“Nothing.” I lied, slamming the sketchbook shut with a small smile.
He watched me closely for a heartbeat before he relaxed into his seat again,
“Just make sure you get my good side.” He concluded, returning his attention to
his phone in hand.
“All of you is your good side,” I mumbled absently, picking another stray
strand of fallen hair off my arm. Sweet Pea’s eyes lifted from his phone,
looking at me sideways with a grin, “Don’t.” I growled, shoving my belongings
into my bag. “You just have a nice face, that’s all.”
“A nice face?” He repeated in question, his head falling to the side.
I nodded, “Strong jawline, symmetrical eyes, high cheekbones —”
“So you’re admiring me?” He teased, hooking his fingers under my seat to drag
me closer. “Adorable.”
I gripped his face in between my thumb and index finger, squishing his mouth,
“Face it, Sweet Pea. You’re just another pretty boy.” He smiled against the
press of my fingers, eyes crinkling around the edges. I released his face,
offering him a warm grin before the bell rang to dismiss the class. He handed
me my textbook prior to shrugging into his jacket, following me out into the
hall as students raced towards the cafeteria for lunch. I never understood the
fuss about it in this school, it wasn’t like the lunch ladies ever served
anything edible to begin with. I stopped at my locker, saying a silent prayer
as I spun the dial and lifted the hook — it clicked in response and the door
swung open.
Sweet success.
“You’re right about studying, by the way.” SP said finally, leaning against the
locker next to mine as I unloaded my bag. I shrugged into my jacket, flipping
my hair over my shoulder as I readjusted my bag. “Think you could spare an hour
or two after last period?”
I rose my brows, “Bold request.” I noted, slamming the door shut on my locker.
“You can meet me in the library after fitness.” I folded my arms, copying his
stance as I leaned against my locker.
His face twisted, “Do we have to stay here?”
I sighed, looking behind his frame to where his group of friends stood, waiting
patiently. “I’m not going home with you,” I said finally, “And I can’t bring
you to Dean’s. So you’ll just have to suck it up.”
“Serpent discrimination? What a concept.” He rolled his eyes, hands shoved deep
into the pockets of his sweater as he cracked his gum. Sweet Pea’s eyes
fluttered as he nodded in defeat, “Alright — this place is crawling with
Ghoulies the second school lets out but fine,” He sighed dramatically, “We’ll
do it your way.”
“Cal,” I peered over my shoulder, throwing Don a smile as he approached. I
noticed that his shoulders visibly tensed as he locked eyes with Sweet Pea, jaw
clenching tightly as it worked under the skin. “Don’t you have somewhere else
to be?” He asked Sweets, voice sharper than necessary. I felt anxiety play
around the edges of my chest, worry pulling my brows together in the middle.
“Just talkin’ to my girl, that’s all.” Sweets replied with a sly grin, wrapping
an arm over my shoulders as he challenged Don. Jesus Christ.
“As if.” I grumbled, lightly shrugging his arm off me with a roll of my blue
hues.
Don’s eyes narrowed, his mouth pulling into a sneer as he shoved his arms
against Sweet Pea’s chest, creating distance. I glanced up to Pea worriedly;
his mouth was pulled back over his teeth, laughing quietly at the sudden
outburst, “That was very brave.” He said quietly, leaning down over Don’s
frame.
“Don,” I warned quietly, pressing a hand to his chest to pull him back, “Leave
it alone.” I pleaded. They remained in that stance, eyes burning holes into the
other, nostrils flared, fists clenched into tight balls at their sides. I
shifted uncomfortably between them, turning to my cousin with pleading
eyes. Please, I mouthed as I tugged on the hem of his shirt.
Sweet Pea backed off sooner than Don did; he shoved his hands into his pockets
and shot me a lopsided smile, “See you after last period.” He reminded me,
backing away slowly before he turned on his heels and joined his friends. They
all watched Don carefully, waiting to see if he would respond or react. When he
gave no indication on following SP, one by one they retreated.
“What are you doing with Sweet Pea?” He demanded angrily, folding his arms
across his chest.
“Bio.” I responded with in the same tone, mimicking his actions, “Do you have a
death wish? The hell are you doing shoving a Serpent around?” I hissed angrily,
pulling his arm to lead him down the hall in the opposite direction. When he
looked over his shoulder to where Sweet Pea was retreating, I lightly smacked
his cheek, “Hey, asshole. Don’t get any ideas.”
“Looks like a lot more than just bio, Cal, since when were the two of you all
buddy-buddy? Y’know what, doesn’t matter. You’re not hanging out with him
anymore.” Donovan replied, cutting his eyes down to me. “He’s fucking
psychotic, Cal, please tell me you’re not that stupid.”
“About as stupid as you are for shoving him into a locker.”
We stood in silence for a few moments, students shoving by our bodies. I was
certain Don would tell Danny, and then Dean would find out. Having the boys rip
on me for my choice in companionship was one thing — Dean was something
completely different. I was less worried about my own safety, and moreso for
theirs. I fully understood that SP was capable of handling himself; but like
the boys had said, the Serpent’s were a family. You didn’t fuck with family.
“Relax, okay?” I pleaded, squeezing his arm in comfort. “I’m okay. It’s biology
homework, I’m helping him study. Birdy wants me to pick up some extra credit
and tutor him.” I lied easily; funnily enough, it was easier to lie about Sweet
Pea than it was to lie to Sweet Pea.  
Don exhaled loudly, his shoulders dropping as he released whatever tension he
had been holding in his shoulders. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” He
sighed, shaking his head slightly as Kabrina joined us at his side, cheerful
smile beaming brightly in contrast to the grim surrounding.
“What’re you doing?” She questioned perkily, linking her arm through mine. She
glanced between Don and I, reading our expressions. Her happy smile was quickly
replaced with worry, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I spat quickly, shooting a glare up at Don. “He’s being unreasonably
stupider than normal today — let’s go.” I pulled her forward, striding off down
the hall leaving Don behind.
===============================================================================
When the bell dismissed me from last period, I was surprised to find Sweet Pea
standing against my locker, arms folded as he examined his boots. He looked up,
casting me a boyish grin before he turned to the locker, and popped it open. I
shoved my bag into the top shelf, glancing sideways at him. “How did you figure
out my locker combo?” I asked curiously, pulling my brows together.
Sweets shrugged nonchalantly, resting his shoulder against the locker next to
mine as I grabbed the biology textbook. “The faculty here really should invest
in a better filing system.”
I slammed the door shut, mouth slightly ajar as his words registered, “Did you
break into the student files? That’s kind of illegal, Pea.” I pointed out,
shoving the textbook against his chest before I turned on my heels to lead him
to the library entrance on the south wing of the school.
“Nah, Dorothy loves when I visit.” He smiled to himself — an inside joke, I
could only assume — and stuck one of his hands into the pocket of his leather
jacket as we walked shoulder to shoulder down the stairs. It was never awkward
silence like I had expected it to be. Truthfully, I seemed to be falling into a
comfortable routine with Sweet Pea. Which I previously had tried to avoid at
all costs with any individual — people like Sweet Pea especially. Maybe Donovan
had a point.
After about an hour of reviewing for the midterm, Sweet Pea melted into his
chair and stared blankly at the tabletop. “You good?” I asked with a chuckle,
pulling my hair up into a bun.
“Reproduction isn’t really my strong suit.” He grumbled absently, stretching
his long legs out under the table. I watched as he left his head fall back,
neck rolling stiffly, lips falling open in satisfaction when it cracked loudly.
I cringed. “Thanks for the help, but ‘m pretty sure it’s useless.”
I rolled my eyes, leaning forward to pull the notebook closer to me. The papers
were full of half-assed notes, with doodles and drawings. Surprisingly enough,
his handwriting was far neater than I had anticipated — I smiled to myself and
started writing my own notes in the column. “You’re distracted,” I said after a
few minutes, glancing back over to his resting frame. His eyes were closed,
head still tilted back to expose his neck as he adjusted his folded arms. I let
my eyes linger on his tattoo, memorizing the lines and shapes. How painful that
must have been, I thought to myself as my brows pulled together involuntarily.
“Hey, why’d you get it there?” I asked, poking his neck gently with the cap of
my pen.
Sweet Pea opened one eye, looking sideways at me. His mouth grimaced sourly,
shoulders pulling up in a shrug as he tilted his head towards me. “Dunno,” He
admitted, “At the time I wanted to show how committed I was. How loyal I was.
For the longest time there was nothing I wanted more than this.”
“But?” I asked,pulling my eyes from his and returning them to the textbook.
I heard him sigh, “But nothing. It’s still who I am and who I identify as.”
“Do you have any others?” I asked casually, highlighting keywords on the
flashcards I was making. “Apart from the one on your thumb?”
I could see Sweets shaking his head, stealing his notebook back to shove into
his bag, “No hidden tramp stamps on me. Any on you, sweetness?” His lips
threatened a smirk, scanning his eyes along the length of my body. I tried to
keep my shoulders relaxed as I turned to face him. Sweet Pea had made a habit
of objectifying me silently with his eyes. Most of the time, when males looked
at me, they were seeing past me. Especially after I had taken the time to knock
them down a few pegs. Sweet Pea never seemed the mind when I dismissed him. It
never stopped him from (what I could only assume was) undressing me with his
eyes.
“Fat chance,” I snickered, turning my nose up as I slammed the textbook shut.
“I’m not a fan of needles.”
Sweet Pea shrugged, “They’re not so bad — more annoying than painful.” He
teased, tugging on the back of my bun. I shot a warning glare in his general
direction.
“You’re also six feet of solid muscle and badass, so that opinion doesn’t
count.” I grumbled in response, bending to collect my belongings and toss them
into my bag.
“Six five, actually,” He corrected, pulling the textbook out of my hands to
carry. “And badass is an understatement — but it’ll suffice for now. You really
should consider getting one.” I followed along behind him, fixing the hood on
my sweater as we exited out of the library. It was dead silent; I hadn’t
realized that the entire facility would be empty apart from us. Sweet Pea
hadn’t been lying — it really was a ghost town after hours.
“What am I gonna get? A butterfly on my asscheek?” I knocked into his frame
suddenly, dropping my bag on the ground. “What the hell, Pea?” I asked angrily
as I bent to grab my bag, brows pulled together in a glare until I looked up
past him and noticed why he had stopped. His shoulders were squared and his
hands were pulled into fists at his sides. The hallway was littered with
individuals, all dressed in black studded leather, watching us closely. They
didn’t look like they were friends of SP’s, meaning they were the entire
opposite.
I stood on my feet slowly, involuntarily hugging myself against his back,
peering around his arm. “Sweets,” I whispered quietly, looking up at him. His
face was expressionless, but behind his bangs I could see his eyes were cold
and calculating, trying to think of a solution to the immediate problem. We
were easily outnumbered; amongst the group, Eddie’s goons stood in the back,
arms folded. They sported matching black eyes and busted lips.
“Where’s Ed?” Sweets asked casually, his face eerily smooth and emotionless.
One of the Ghoulies leaned forward, folding his arms, “Still unconscious, no
thanks to you.” He growled in response. I watched a few of the figures behind
him simultaneously crack their knuckles, moving when he moved.
Pea scoffed, “Technically, I wasn’t the one to hit him.” He concluded with a
shrug, shoving his right hand into the pocket of his jacket. Sweet Pea swayed
the slightest, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a playful grin. “Just
showed your boys back there a good time, that’s all.”
One of the males from the back stepped forward, dropping his folded arms into
tight fists, “Fuck you, Sweetie pie —”
SP’s eyes narrowed into a glare, smile disappearing just as quickly as it had
appeared, “It’s Sweet Pea, jackass.”
I tugged on his arm, pulling his attention down to me, “Don’t provoke them.” I
pleaded, pressing my lips together in worry. There was easily five of them, and
only one of him. I was essentially useless — I couldn’t throw a punch if my
life depended on it and I was certain it wasn’t me they were interested in.
This was all on Sweet Pea.
His eyes cut down to focus on mine, seeming to consider my words before he
closed them tightly and sighed. “You need to go,” He whispered, handing me back
my textbook. We held eyes for another moment, his face pulling into confusion
when I hesitated and didn’t move to take the book. “This isn’t negotiable,
babydoll. Go back through the library to the north door, wait for me by my
bike.” He hissed.
“Are you crazy?” I asked frantically in a hushed tone, looking past him to
where the group stood. I shook my head profusely, taking a step closer to him,
“No, I’m not just gonna leave you here —”
“The hell you aren’t,” He growled, shoving the textbook into my arms with more
force than necessary. I looked down at his hands; his right knuckles were now
accompanied by a row of heavy brass. We shared a knowing look, and I could feel
my throat closing in around my vocal chords. There was a sense of urgency in
his tone, his eyes pleading but his voice remained firm and assertive.  “I’m
not kidding, Calliope. Get out of here.”
I wrapped my fingers around the spine of the textbook, eyes lingering on the
dents in the brass. They had been in heavy use, obviously, and I tried to let
that comfort me. I could believe he could handle himself — what I couldn’t have
faith in was the Ghoulies not doing everything they could to hospitalize him.
Worry pulled at my heartstrings, trying to keep the tremble in my hands to a
minimum. Reluctantly, I hugged the textbook to my chest and backed away from
him slowly.
“Be careful.”
The moment he turned on his heels, he was met face to face with a large body;
he nearly as tall as SP, and definitely larger in body mass (which was saying
something because Sweet Pea was already impressively massive). I ducked back
into the library, trying to ignore the bangs against the lockers. I wandered
back into the center of the room, looking for the north side door Sweet Pea had
mentioned. I tried the several I could find, all of which were locked. Growing
impatient, I started kicking one of the metal sheets, growling in frustration.
“Why is everything locked?” I asked myself, agitated that my voice sounded so
desperate. So weak. Use your head, Callie. My blue hues scanned the rows upon
rows of old archives and withering books. I gnawed on my lower lip, my eyes
lingering on the nude painted ladder than clung to the wall. My eyes followed
up the steps, pausing when I saw the bold white letters that printed ‘NORTH’
above the exit sign on the platform. I heaved a sigh, snaking through the
tables and chairs towards the ladder. It wasn’t low enough for me to reach on
my own.
I hauled a chair from one of the nearby tables over. If I jumped, I could grab
onto the last step. Which meant I had to rely on what little upper body
strength I had to pull myself up. Determined, I shoved the textbook into my
already heavy bag and secured it on my shoulders.
There was a loud bang as a body crashed into the main library doors. I looked
over my shoulder, watching the shadowed figures on the other side of the
frosted glass struggle before I jumped up. My palms were slick with sweat,
making pulling myself up more difficult than I had originally anticipated. I
used my feet to press against the wall, fingers gripping onto the thin metal
bars as I pulled myself up. Once my feet hit the bottom step, I raced up the
remaining length to the exit.
When the door gave way and opened, I breathed a sigh in relief, doubling over
to place my hands on my knees and draw in air I hadn’t realized I needed. The
hallway was empty, save for the row of desks that sat perched against the back
wall at the end of the row of lockers. I made my way towards the stairwell,
trying to make the least amount of noise possible until I reached the base
floor and exited the building. I was unsure of where I was, the sun was
starting to set behind the school yard which meant finding a leather clad boy
and his motorcycle would prove to be difficult. Anxiety rolled over my stomach
as I gripped onto the straps of my bag tightly, chewing on the inside of my
cheek as I started to walk around the building.
After fifteen minutes, I started to worry that Sweet Pea had left without me,
assuming I had found my own way home. I rounded what appeared to be the seventh
corner to the school, and smacked into a hard chest. I staggered to keep my
balance, my heavy bag threatening to work against me and pull me down. Sweet
Pea’s arms caught my shoulders quickly, his face falling into relief as he
pulled me into a tight hug.
My arms wrapped around his midsection for a moment before I shoved him away,
swinging my bag off my back to throw into his side. “If you ever,” I started,
hitting him in the hips again, “Ever pull that crap again, I swear to god I’ll
—”
“Shut up,” He chuckled, pulling the bag from my fingers to sling it onto his
shoulder. I was relieved to see him scratch free — more surprised than
anything. I brought my hand up to his chin, gripping it as tightly as I could
to turn his head from left to right, examining his face. No bruises, so
swelling. His hand, however, looked as though it had butchered an animal. His
knuckles were reddened from the brass, slight traces of blood stains remained
on the back of his olive skin. “I can handle myself.” He mused quietly, pulling
his hand from mine.
“Clearly,” I breathed quietly, staring at him in awe. He backed around the
corner, beckoning me forward with his finger as he took on towards the parking
long sporting the lone motorcycle. My stomach churned uneasily, worry weighing
my chest down as I reluctantly followed. “So what happened?” I called, keeping
a distance.
Sweet Pea shrugged, looking over his shoulder, “It’s not the first time my ass
has been cornered for shit like this — don’t worry about it.”
I pulled my brows together, keeping my hands in tiny fists at my sides, “Why
not just avoid it then?”
Sweet Pea looked down at me, seeming pained briefly, “If I had avoided it this
time, who knows what could’ve happened.” He reminded me, nudging me with his
arm. “It’s not the first time they’ve preyed on defenseless girls.”
I tried to keep the distaste at the word ‘defenseless’ off my face. I pressed
my lips together in thought before I responded, “Didn’t you say your friend
texted you about it?” I asked, raising my brow thoughtfully when he nodded,
“But you don’t try to save all the girls? Just some?”
SP side-eyed me as he slowed his pace to match mine. We walked in silence for a
moment, Sweets considering his next words before replied, voice just above a
whisper, “Just you.”
I worked with much difficulty not to let any immediate changes appear on my
face. Instead, I nodded once in understanding and folded my arms. If Donovan
knew — if Dean knew — about the what appeared to be very subtle attachment
Sweet Pea had started to show was actually true, then I would have more issues
than pissing off the Ghoulies. It wouldn’t be about my reputation — it would be
about my character as a person. What it could cost me.
I took a step back when he straddled his bike, offering me the helmet. I stared
at the silver coating, catching a glimpse of my grimace in the reflection of
the visor. “I think I’m just gonna walk.” I murmured, grabbing my bag off the
back seat. “I appreciate the offer, though.” I added quickly, trying my best to
give him a smile.
Sweet Pea let the helmet drop into his lap, shoulders slumping forward when he
realized convincing me otherwise was futile. “Are you comfortable doing that?”
He asked, brown orbs carefully reading my face as he waited for an appropriate
response.
I thought about the question. It wasn’t so much so are you okay to walk home,
but do you feel safe enough to walk home? I knew he meant well, considering
what had just happened. I tried to find some comfort in knowing I was making an
obvious effort to keep some distance to show that whatever acquaintanceship we
had formed was to be kept inside the school walls, and nothing more. I wasn’t a
people person, and people didn’t like me. And while boys tried, many didn’t
like the idea of chasing after anything, and only did so if I was worth it. I
was only worth it if I was willing to give them what they wanted, immediately.
So I stopped thinking that having a boyfriend, or a girl group, was necessary
in your high school years. I was perfectly content with the way things were.
With the stability of my plan. Regardless of where I lived, or who I lived
with, who I wanted to be never changed. Like tunnel vision, I had taken the
necessary steps to better me for myself.  
“I’m okay.” I promised with a confident nod.
He looked me over once and nodded as he repositioned his helmet, “You know my
number if you change your mind.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I replied, waving him off when he revved the engine of
the bike. I watched him speed out of the parking lot, leaving me standing in
the middle of it alone. Oddly enough, the silence of the area haunted me more
than I had anticipated. I pulled my jacket closer and wrapped my arms around my
midsection as I wandered towards the familiar path that broke out between the
trees.
===============================================================================
I set the bowl of macaroni in the center of the table, looking up at Donovan as
he shot an open glare in my direction. It hadn’t been the easiest at home,
knowing that Don was doing wrong by his brothers to keep what happened with
Sweet Pea to himself; oddly enough I found it touching that he cared enough
about me to consider doing that at all in the first place. In return, I
accepted the cold shoulder with minimal complaint. It could be a lot worse.
“Anything interesting happen at school?” Dean asked casually as we sat for
dinner that Friday evening. It had been three days since our run in with the
Ghoulies, and I still had yet to bring it up to any of my cousins. I shook my
head, dumping heaping mountains of the casserole on my plate while Danny
clapped his large hands together and started in on his daily tangent.
Over the last few days, Kabrina and I had spent a lot of time together.
Admittedly, it was mainly because I was trying to keep as much distance between
SP and I as possible. He still showed up for my shifts at Pop’s, bringing the
girl I knew as Toni along with him, as well as a few other familiar faces. He
never bothered trying to keep conversation going, preferred to keep quiet when
I came around.
He continued to make an effort to sit next to me in most of our shared classes,
and most of the students continued to comply with his demands. I tried my best
to make the process as nonchalant as possible, hoping to conceal the obvious
while still being polite.
His persistence was annoying.
Dean mentioned something about there being a town meeting upcoming that he
would be going to. “No doubt just another ploy to bring the Southside some more
rainy days.” He grumbled, tossing his used napkin onto his cleared plate. “From
what I hear, McCoy wants to instill a curfew.”
“Curfew?” I asked with a snort, pulling my brows together. “That’s a little far
fetched, don’t you think?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think,” He sighed, finishing the remainder of his beer.
“You know that saying ‘no one is above the law’? Doesn’t apply to McCoy.”
I sat on that thought for a moment, pulling my legs under my bum on my seat. It
was strange to think that in the midst of students being targeted, I was more
worried about my involvement with Sweet Pea. The table was cleared, prompting
me to follow Donovan up to his room. Personally, while I was appreciative of
his silence on the matter, I wasn’t a fan of the cold shoulder. I caught the
door just before it were to slam shut, pulling a very loud, very annoyed sigh
from Don.
“What, Calliope?”
“First of all,” I slammed the door shut, turning to him with hard eyes, “Don’t
call me Calliope. Ever. Secondly,” I sat down on the edge of his bed and looked
up at him; his arms were folded and he appeared disinterested in what I had to
say but I continued speaking anyway, “Thank you for keeping your big mouth
shut.” I said quickly, folding my hands in my lap.
“I didn’t do it for you.” He mumbled, tilting his head to the side, “The last
thing I need is Dean getting caught up in their shit again —”
“Again?”
Don bit his tongue and pinched the bridge of his nose, “You know nothing —”
“You’re right, I don’t.” I stated firmly, irritation creeping up into my voice.
“Because no one tells me anything. You’re all treating me like I’m a child —
friendly reminder, dear cousin, I’m technically older than you.”
Donovan considered my words, lips pulling into a tight scowl as he narrowed his
green hues. There seemed to be a sort of defeat that weighed him down; he
flopped onto the bed next to me, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh, “You’re
right. Dean used to hang with a group of them when he was still in highschool —
obviously it’s been a few years since then,” He laughed once, folding his arms
behind his head, “He and the used-to-be Sweet Pea of his generation were bffs.
Thick as thieves. Didn’t end so well for them. Lines started to blur, people
started to question his loyalty and that wasn’t flying with FP or Tallboy. Dean
was dealt with ‘accordingly’,” He held up quotations around the word, “And he
never spoke to any of them ever again.”
“What do you mean he was dealt with?” I asked, flipping onto my stomach so that
I could face him.
Don licked his lips, his voice dropping into a whisper, “Dean was initiated
into the Serpents when he was fifteen — he was with them for two years before
they deemed him unfit for going against the code, and they removed his tattoo.”
I felt my brows pull together, confusion sweeping across all of my features.
“And when you say removed?” I pressed weakly, peering up at him from under my
hair.
“I mean they burned his skin until it was unrecognizable.”
Ouch.
“Isn’t Dean the one that said snakes were bad company?”
“Don’t you think he’d know best?” Don replied, lips pressed into a firm line,
eyes boring into mine with a knowing look.
We lay in silence for a few heartbeats; I was trying to wrap my head around it.
The boys had made it sound like the Serpents were one gang originally started
way back when, and that new members were daughters and sons to the pre-existing
members. That outsiders couldn’t join. So either that was a misconception and
the town was painting the hellbent on family-loyalty gang all wrong — or
somehow the Hobbs family line fit into the Southside Serpents by blood
relation.
I rubbed my temples, the tension immediately building in my neck, “That’s
… really messed up.” I concluded, at a complete loss for words.
“That’s why I got angry — and also why I’ve kept Danny in the dark.” Don
mumbled quietly, “Sweet Pea might have a sweet mouth when it comes to you and
no one understands it, but his loyalties will always lie with them. He’s no
better than the rest of them. He’s quick on his feet and scarily strong; he’s
their best recruit since Penny Peabody, and none of them bother fucking with
her because she’s the worst of them all and she’s not even violent.” He sat up
and looked down at me, rubbing his bare arms against the chill in the room,
“Danny wouldn’t have been able to keep his mouth shut. Dean would’ve known
before he’d stepped foot in the door that day, and your ass would’ve been
shipped back to Greendale.”
I tried to let the seriousness of his words sink in — it only gave me more
reason to avoid Sweet Pea at all costs. 
***** SIX *****
“If I say yes will you shut up and leave me alone?” I asked angrily, brow
furrowed as I shot daggers forward. There was a sense of triumph in his eyes,
lips cracking into a boyish smile as his head nodded once, eyes quickly
scanning the top half of my body above the table. “Don’t be gross.” I growled,
slamming the cover of my textbook closed. It was unbelievable how bold some
males could be; and I was beginning to realize that men in this town simply
never gave up.
Ever.
My mind reeled back to Sweet Pea and how utterly revolted he would be when I
caved so easily. I thought back to his disappointed eyes, the way his lips
pulled down in the corners to indicate his displeasure. Thought back to the way
I wanted to ensure he never looked at me that way again. How a very small part
of my body screamed to do whatever I needed to correct my mistake. And it was
revolting how often I found myself thinking about him, wanting to talk to him,
to talk about Kabrina or my cousins. He had started to show his face less and
less around Pop’s. Apart from the very short periods in school, I didn’t see or
hear much from Sweets.
How I wished he were here now.
Joshua had come to visit me on my break; I had tried to finish some of the
homework I had, while he preferred to gossip about the Northside drama that
continued to pull the unanimous interest of every Southsider.
“I’m trying to do homework and I only have fifteen minutes until my break is
over —  did you need something else or?” I tried to keep the annoyance in my
voice to a minimum. When he didn’t move, I rolled my eyes and sunk back into my
side of the booth, “Josh. I don’t know what impression Danny gave you. I don’t
do friends, let alone boyfriends.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to be your boyfriend —”
I cut my eyes towards him, “I’m not sleeping with you, either.” I grumbled,
sitting upright when Pop came by to clear the table top from my dinner. “Now go
home, I’ve gotta get back to work.”
I didn’t bother waiting for him to respond. My feet were carrying me to the
back with my textbook and laptop in hand, holding the swinging door steady
behind me so that I was safely concealed in the privacy of the back. Pop looked
up at me from behind the dishwasher, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he
smiled. Curious, I set my laptop down in my locker and turned to him, “What?” I
asked, trying to keep a smile of my own from forming.
“You don’t get along with any of my male customers.” He chuckled, tossing a rag
at me.
I shrugged, balling the cloth into the palm of my hand, “I do — just have very
little patience.” I admitted quietly, letting my head fall back as I exhaled
loudly. I couldn’t wait to go home — to wash the day off my body. It were as
though when I was naked and heated, when my body felt all too sensitive, I felt
at complete ease. And while I was typically a fan of the winter season, I was
appreciative of the warmth that I felt. As though I could pretend I was home.
My home. A home where my father existed, and the last two years were simply
forgotten. “That, and Joshua is also a righteous pain and was mooching off my
free dinner.”
We worked away in the back to finish closing duties while the new hire finished
sweeping and cleaning up front. When Pop was ready to handle the night
stragglers alone, I ducked out into the rain and scowled. It had been clear
skies and a pretty red sunset — where the thunder and lightning had come from,
I didn’t know. I pulled my hood over my hair, tucking my loose strands into the
back as I rounded the corner of the restaurant. The figure that leaned against
the side of the building stepped into the light; I paused in my tracks and
clenched my hands into fists at my sides.
Sweet Pea’s figured towered over mine, forcing me to look up at his face.
Droplets of water from his bangs dripped down onto my forehead. My brow
furrowed in worry, fingers reaching up to touch the part of his eyes that had
started to swell and bruise, “What happened?” I breathed out, index finger
lightly tracing the blood clots pooling together under his left eye. “Sweet
Pea, what happened?” My voice was a little harder, a little more firm.
Sweets grabbed my hand and pulled it from his face, holding it distended in the
air between us, “Did you know one of the Northside freakshows has a gun?” He
asked with a chuckle, fixing my hood around my hair. “People thought I was
psychotic for being knife happy.”
I pulled back, looking up at him in utter confusion, “You carry a knife on
you?” I quickly recovered, slapping his hand away as I took a step forward,
“Who has a gun, Sweets?”
We stood in the alley behind Pop’s for a solid ten minutes before he offered to
walk me back over the tracks; in that short time, I had learned that Archie
Andrews had come into the Southside to defile and vandalize parts of the town,
hoping to spur some sort of reaction out of the Black Hood. Sweet Pea had made
note to sneer at his own words, finding irony in them. Listening to Sweet Pea,
hearing just how unfair and unjustified the town was to the Southside made my
own blood boil — and I didn’t really consider it my own problem.
I had, unfortunately, gotten to bare witness to a side of Sweet Pea that not
many others did. His reputation helped to keep the whispers and gossip at a
minimum, but that hadn’t stopped students from our shared classes from staring
and making passing comments. They didn’t know how silly he could be, how
underneath all of the leather and attitude, there was a boy that wanted a
different life. But I knew as much as everyone else did, too. I knew his anger
superseded him. I knew he preferred to let his emotional instability control
his actions, which meant the majority of the school had the unfortunate
opportunity to meet his brass knuckles.
He was easily offended, hot headed and while I wanted to believe his heart was
in the right place, he never seemed to change.
I found myself cursing under my breath as we reached the porch of Dean’s house;
the lights were off, which meant Dean hadn’t come home yet, and the boys were
either already asleep or gone out. I had spent the better part of the last week
trying to keep my distance from Sweet Pea if I could help it; now I held the
door open and all but dragged him over the threshold. We left his Harley parked
behind the house near the shed; I hoped my cousin’s wouldn’t find the tire
tracks and investigate.
I pressed my finger to my lips as I quietly shut the door and flipped the lock.
“I’m going to get us some towels to dry off — my room’s the one at the top of
the stairs to the left,” I whispered, shrugging out of my jacket to hang on the
hook by the door. I turned suddenly, holding my hands out carefully while my
eyes shot daggers at the back of his head, “And don’t touch anything!” I
hissed, sighing in relief when his footsteps (despite wearing heavy boots) were
silent as he made his way up the stairs.
I took my time in the kitchen; boiled the kettle for Dean for when he came
home, cleared the dishes Danny and Don had left on the counter, tied the trash
and left it by the back door. I leaned against the granite countertop, sipping
thoughtfully on a bottle of water as I contemplated my next moves.
I had done the one thing I was certain would be considered unforgivable in my
cousin’s eyes. I brought a Serpent home — and not just any Serpent. Sweet Pea.
If any of them knew that he was here, I was nearly positive that Donovan wasn’t
lying when he said I’d be shipped back to Greendale. Returning that sorry
excuse for a town was the last thing I wanted. And for the first time since my
father had died, for the first time in a very, very long time, I felt as though
I had found a place I could call home.
I quickly raced up the stairs to the bathroom, locking the door behind me as I
pulled my damp hair out of my face and hastily washed my face and brushed my
teeth. I grabbed a towel off the rack beside me, threw it over my shoulder and
flipped the lights off in the hallway as I went.
My fingers hesitated to lock the door once it was shut behind me; being locked
in a confined area with Sweet Pea would likely bound to be an incredibly bad
idea, but despite my better judgement, I twisted the knob and until it clicked.
“Here, I wasn’t sure if you needed a change of clothes or just a towel but I
figured —” My words came to halt when I turned on my heels and saw Sweets
standing at the foot of my bed, holding one of my many sketchbooks. His
silhouette was illuminated by the moon and lightning outside, eyelashes
fluttering against the top of his cheeks every so often as his eyes moved
across the page. “I thought I told you not to touch anything.” I growled
angrily, pulling the booklet from his hand. I held the towel out, brows
crumpled together when he remained still. “You’re getting water everywhere.” I
added, a little quieter this time.
“They’re good.” He whispered, taking the towel from my fingers, brown hues
boring into mine. “Really good,” He continued as he peeled his jacket from his
body, making an effort to conceal the logo stitched into the back by draping it
over the back of my computer chair.
“It’s not just you,” I mumbled weakly, feeling the heat creep up from my chest
and into my neck. I turned my body, carefully wrapping my wet arms around the
leather of the book as he stripped his t-shirt from his body. “I draw Toni,
too.” I set the book down on my dresser, looking over my shoulder to where he
shook his head furiously in the towel, absorbing the extra moisture.
“I noticed that.” He replied, running his long fingers through his raven
strands to pull them from his face. It was so unlike him, seeing him stripped
of all the things that typically made Sweet Pea who he was. No leather jacket,
no hair in his eyes. His body, although shivering and hard to see, appeared far
more relaxed than I had envisioned it might be. When his shoulders weren’t
squared under all the layers, when he wasn’t trying to assert his dominance,
Sweet Pea almost looked like a normal teenage boy.
Confusion overwhelmed my mind as my heart tugged painfully at the thought.
I took advantage of the silence to excuse myself; inside the sanctuary of my
closet, I flipped on the light and brought my hands up to my face to pull on
the flesh as I sighed. “What are you doing?” I mouthed to myself, looking
around at the boxes not yet unpacked and rows of sweaters hanging along the
back rack.
I undressed quickly, kicking the rain soaked uniform into the corner as I
shrugged into a tank top and pulled a pair of  flannels over my legs. My eyes
caught the box sitting on the top shelf, more pristine than the others, not yet
touched or opened. The rest had been resealed over the years, from house to
house, home to home. I’d settle in, rip the tape and pry it open, only to later
retape it shut. All except for one.
I grunted as my hands struggled to ease it down from the shelf, awkwardly
moving around the tiny closet to set it on the ground in front of me. My blue
hues ran across the words written in black marker, pulling a petulant sigh from
my lips. My fingers edged under the tape, prying it away from the box in a
satisfying rip! and pulled apart the folded sides. The scent was overwhelming;
still crisp and heavy, every article of clothing in the box reminded me of a
time when life wasn’t so complicated. When I still had the chance to be me, to
grow into who I thought I was supposed to be. Admittedly, that person was very
different than who I had become.
My fingers gripped onto his blue flannel, holding it up to my nose to inhale my
father’s scent deeply.
Two quiet knocks on the closet door pulled me from my train of thought, “Cal?”
Worry laced with the word, his voice muffled through the door. I quickly pulled
a pair of track pants out from the bottom of the box, standing on my feet as
the door started to open. I turned then, eyes scanning the concern in his face
before I pushed the clothes into his bare chest, trying not to pay much mind to
the burning sensation his skin seemed to leave on my fingertips. “What’re
these?” He asked, brows furrowed together as he took a step back.
“I figured you wouldn’t want to sit around in wet jeans,” I shrugged as I
followed him towards the bed. I turned around, hearing the clatter of his belt
hit the floor as his pants dropped; there were slow movements as he dressed
himself. I wasn’t sure when it was appropriate to turn around to see if he were
finished and decent, but the gentle caress of his fingers against my lower back
caused my head to turn so that I could look at him.
He was closer than I anticipated. Sweet Pea’s face was illuminated by the
lanterns that hung from my ceiling (he had figured out where the switch was for
them I suppose), and his mouth was pressed into a tight line. My arms instantly
snaked around his waist, hugging myself against his warm frame tightly as I
inhaled deeply again. I was almost as though he was here. It had been a long
time since a warm body had worn this shirt, and had been even longer since I
last hugged the person wearing it.
Sweet Pea seemed to be at a loss; his arms remained distended in the air, hands
clenching gently before he eventually wrapped them around my shoulders, holding
me tightly against him. We stood in silence, his hand found its way into my
hair, fingers gently pulled the strands back. “I’m supposed to be avoiding
you.” I hummed quietly into his chest, eyes closing when he squeezed me
tighter.
“I know.” He responded, voice seeming distant. “You’re doing an awful job.” He
pointed out, trying to force the smugness he carried with him on any other
typical day.
I sighed loudly, pulling back from his frame reluctantly to peer up at him.
“You gonna tell me how you got that?” I narrowed my eyes, folding my arms over
my chest as I sat back on the bed, pulling the covers over so he could sit next
to me.
“Give me your phone.” His hand was already extended forward, not leaving me
much say in the matter. I tried to keep the annoyance from my face as I pushed
off the mattress and wandered over to where my bag slumped against the floor,
water creating a very small puddle around the bottom of it. I held my thumb
over the home button, watching the screen open before I held it out to him.
He sat in my place on the bed, fingers scrolling through a webpage before he
selected a video and flipped the phone around to return it to me, “Watch.”
He leaned back on his hands as I sat next to him, folding my legs under my bum
as my thumb hit play and lowered the volume. I strained to hear the teen
clearly, but the gist of the video came across loud and clear. Obviously,
Archie Andrews had a death wish. “What is this?” I asked, peering sideways at
SP, who had leaned closer to watch the video over my shoulder. “Another gang?”
Sweet Pea scoffed, “Hardly.” He grumbled, falling back onto the bed, “This came
out a few days ago — new recruit is bff’s with the lunatic.” He sighed, resting
his hands on his stomach. As he spoke, recollection formed in my mind as he had
given me a more watered down version of the story earlier on our walk home from
Pop’s, “Fangs and TJ and I were at Bo’s getting some smokes, came out and this
fucker was marking up the side of the building. Pulled a gun out when we got
involved to get him to stop —”
I rolled my eyes, turning so that I could face him, “C’mon, Pea. We both know
you’re skimping over the details.”
He met my eyes for a moment before he rolled his own eyes and closed them,
“Fine. I pulled a knife on him.”
“There we go.”
“He still pulled out a fucking gun — do you have any idea how fucked up that
is? Where did he even get a gun?” He asked, mainly to himself. His eyes opened
as he looked at the ceiling and the lights, seeming to contemplate what under
the table deal he made to get the gun in the first place.
“Don’t even think about it, Sweets.” I warned, shoving his hips roughly. “You
don’t need a gun.”
Sweet Pea sighed again, turning his head to the side so he could look at me as
he continued, “I went to see him. Not gonna lie, I was a lot more confident
beating his ass when it was just him. Guess he had some company — it just got
real messy real quick. Andrews landed a solid one on me,” He seemed bothered by
that statement. My fingers instinctively went to his face, thumb gently
smoothing over the strain in between his brows, “I’m used to how dirty we fight
down here. Everyone’s so predictable — it’s how I managed to get out of the
school the other night scratch free. They’re all driven by emotion, none of
them use their head so it makes it easier to get a leg up on them.
But this kid knew what he was doing. I was on the ground before I had even
realized what had happened. It was just his one; the Bulldogs are so sloppy.
Bunch of fucking pansies. I’m gonna be slightly disappointed if he doesn’t have
a bruised rib cage.”
I tried to keep the mental image of Sweet Pea stomping his heavy steel toed
boots down onto someone’s body; I gripped his jaw in my hand and squeezed
tightly, pulling a wince from him, “If you ever,” I started, dropping the tone
in my voice to mimic his from the night in the school, “Start a brawl with them
again I swear to God —”
“Easy, sweetness.” He grimaced, pulling on my wrist gently. I released his face
and twisted my wrist from his grip, shoving my hands into my lap. My thumbs
rubbed together absently, trying to keep my eyes down on the patterns in my
flannel bottoms instead of on his face. The less emotion I conveyed to him, the
better.  
“He has a gun, Pea.” My voice was thick with concern. My mind couldn’t fully
grasp onto the words; it still baffled me, that people had such easy access to
weapons that had been created with the sole purpose of killing other things.
Other people. That someone had held a war machine to his face, and he had the
mind to seek out said person to finish what he started. “A shot wound isn’t
like a stab wound, jackass. Do you use your head at all?”
“He made a fucking joke out of me.” Sweets shot back, leaning up on his elbows.
“By holding a gun to your face?” I deadpanned, “That hardly screams that you’re
a wimp for running — at least it means you have enough sense to know when to
pick your battles.” When he didn’t respond, I pushed away from his body and sat
upright, rolling my neck. “We should ice your face.”
“I don’t need ice.”
I shot my brows up and looked down at him. “You’re so stubborn.”
“Me?” He asked, his lips breaking into a smile, “Have you heard yourself? If
I’m stubborn, what does that make you?”
“Reasonable.” I teased, sitting back against my pillows. SP crawled up beside
me, facing me as he rested his head against his knuckles, “One of us has to
be.” I added grimly, face all too serious.
He narrowed his eyes for a moment, lips turning into a smirk, “Do you wanna
play a game?”
“A game?” I asked, glancing down at the time on my phone. “It’s a little late
to be playing games, don’t you think?”
“Nah, it’s only midnight.” He shrugged, “It’ll be fun.”
“For who?” I asked dubiously, sliding my feet under the covers as I lowered
myself into the dip in the mattress.
“Me.” He shrugged, fixing the duvet over my frame, “But that’s besides the
point. Answer the question: Do you sleep naked?”
I gawked at him for maybe two second before I rolled my eyes and crossed my
arms over my chest above the blankets, “This again? I’m currently fully
clothed, so I think that’s your answer.”
“You’re fully clothed because I’m here,” He reminded me, “But if I wasn’t?”
I pursed my lips into a small pout, thinking it were completely unreasonable to
be asking such a question, but answered nevertheless, “Same attire, maybe minus
the pants.” I grumbled. “What about you? Do you let the family jewels hang
out?”
He chuckled quietly, resting his arms behind his head, “Can’t, as much as I’d
love to.” He winked; I tried to keep the heat from rushing into my cheeks,
instead opted for shrug. “Tell me about your first kiss.”
“Okay, this is the last weirdly personal question I’m answering and then you
need to figure out another route before I punch you,” I growled, sinking into
my pillows as I thought on my answer. I could tell him the truth or I could
blatantly lie. I couldn’t tell him I hadn’t had one — he’d find that too
laughable. If I told him the truth, that was also equally laughable. I chewed
on my lower lip, “I was fifteen, it was seven minutes in heaven. We mashed
tongues while he felt me up — super uncomfortable, it never happened again.”
“What didn’t?” He asked, eyes watching my face carefully. “Kissing him or
kissing in general?”
“It’s my turn,” I reminded him, “And no more intimate questions.” Thankful that
he didn’t argue, we continued on; Sweet Pea’s favourite colour was green, his
preferred old soul rap and R&B over anything else but pretended to like rock to
satisfy his friends (personally, I didn’t believe he was over his punk rock
phase). His favourite meal happened to be breakfast, and he was a sucker for
waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. At some point he was rambling on
about god only knows what — my eyes had closed, head nodding every so often to
keep him talking.
Eventually my breathing evened out, the sound of his hushed voice lulled me to
sleep.
===============================================================================
Three loud bangs sounded on my door, pulling me from my sleep. My tired eyes
fought against the sunlight beaming in through the window — wait. Sunlight. It
was morning. Sunlight also meant I had slept through the alarm on my phone,
because typically when I woke up, it was still dark outside.
Slowly, I peered over my shoulder. The sight, while slightly adorable, was not
the sight I wanted to see first thing that morning. Sweet Pea laid just behind
me, arm draped over my hip as his mouth hung ajar. He inhaled, dragging the air
across the back of his throat quietly, “Are you kidding me?” I hissed in
annoyance, “You snore?” Despite my various quiet efforts to wake him, Sweets
merely moaned in complaint and shoved his face into the back of my neck, arm
coiling around me to keep me still.
Admittedly, it was a refreshing change of pace. Most mornings, I hit snooze for
an hour, woke up with just enough time to eat, put a face on and get out of the
door in time to make it to my morning class without being late. Seeing Sweet
Pea’s face buried into my pillows, body encased under the fluffy purple duvet
was something otherworldly. I almost felt bad for having to wake him; more
often than not he looked like he never got enough sleep. I just wanted to give
him that much — to give him the solid eight hours I’m certain he was overdue
for.
There was another loud knock at the door that pulled my attention from Pea’s
peaceful face; Dean’s muffled voice carried through the crack between the floor
and the bottom of the wood, “You’re gonna be late, Cal! The boys are gone, I’m
leaving now. Lock up when you go!”
I waited until I heard his footsteps descend the stairs, then I shot my hand
under the covers, fingers searching for my phone. I pulled the device to my
face, the time reading 8:11 AM. School started in less than twenty minutes.
“Crap,” I sighed, pressing the palm of my hand into my forehead. “Okay,
Sweets,” I tried cooing the name gently to coax him awake, rolling over so that
I could face him. “You gotta get up, we’re gonna be late.”
The snoring had ceased; a single brown eye opened, then peered down and focused
on me before he closed it again. His fingers trailed slowly up my back,
entwining into the back of my hair as he shoved my face into his chest, “Shut
up.” He growled into the top of my head, lips brushing against my hair.
“Please.” He added more politely.
I pushed on his chest, twisting my shoulders and head so that I could breathe
freely, “We have to go to Biology — if we’re both missing, there’s gonna be a
lot of talk.”
“No there won’t.” He mumbled quietly, fingers massaging the back of my skull,
pulling them through the tangled strands, “People aren’t stupid enough to say
shit about you.”
I huffed in annoyance, “Okay,” I pressed, pushing the heel of my hand into his
chest again, “I still need to go.”  That’s when I noticed that his chest was
bare. I pressed my hand flat against his heart and looked up at him again,
“Where did your shirt go?” I demanded angrily, sitting up right.
Sweet Pea groaned, arm falling from my shoulder to my lap as I fixed my hair,
“It was too hot.” He grumbled, shoving his face into the side of my hip, no
doubt to keep the sunlight from bothering his eyes.
“So you stripped in my bed?” I hissed, “You aren’t even supposed to be here.” I
accused, rubbing my tired eyes furiously.
Sweet Pea rolled onto his back, stretching his arms above his head. I watched
the muscles in his chest and shoulders roll as he did so, watching the way his
ribs worked as he arched his back off the mattress, pulling a loud yawn from
his pouted lips. With his arms behind his head, the muscles in his biceps
pulled forward and bulged. My eyes trailed over the definitive curve of mass,
trying not to make my stare entirely obvious. He relaxed into the pillows
again, meeting my eyes, “You never told me I couldn’t stay.”
I raked my hair into a pony, pulling my eyes from his as I swung my legs over
the edge of the bed, “For future reference, me passing out isn’t an invitation
to sleep in my bed.” I pulled my sweater off the laundry hamper in the corner,
holding it in my hands as I turned to face him, “No one can know you were
here.” I reminded him.
“‘Course not,” He grumbled, “Wouldn’t wanna hurt your reputation, babydoll.”
Sweet Pea folded his arms behind his head more comfortably, looking at my chest
from his corner of the bed. His lips pulled into a smirk, “Bit nippy this
morning, huh Cal?” He joked, his warm pools darting up to mine before I looked
down at my chest with furrowed brows; my arms shoved through the sleeves on my
sweater and hauled it over my head.
“Get out,” I growled, throwing my dad’s flannel in his direction, “I have to
shower or I’m gonna be gross, and I can’t come back in here naked if you’re
still occupying my bed.”
I heard a low chuckle resonate from the back of his throat as he sat up and
pulled the sleeves over his bare arms, fingers slowly working to do up the
buttons on the blue plaid shirt. “I won’t peek.” He teased, running a tired
hand through his (very) fluffy hair.
“That statement is the biggest lie you’ve ever told, and we both know it.” I
pulled drawers of my dresser open, rummaging through the various clothing
articles to find a suitable pair of jeans. I started throwing together my
outfit, tossing the clothes onto the chair (that was still occupied by his
jacket) and then grabbed my bag of toiletries, unlocking the door and pulling
it open, “If you’re not gone by the time I get out, I’m going to give you a
matching set.” I stated firmly, gesturing to the very swollen, very bruised
left eye. “See you in bio.” 
***** SEVEN *****
It surprised me that he had listened to me. It surprised me even more than I
had come out of the shower to a cleaned room; the bed had been made, any
remnants that he had been here had been discarded of. The lights had been
turned off, he had folded my clothing and laid them out on the bed, next to an
open sketchbook that showcased his profile, with a little blue sticky note
attached at the bottom that read ‘This one is my favourite - Pea’. Sweet Pea
showed up to Biology with his usual smugness illuminating his sharp features.
Admittedly, he looked a little more rested.
He plopped down into his chair next to mine, turning to me with a triumphant
grin, “What’s your deal?” I asked with a smile, blue hues carefully watching as
he kicked his feet up onto the table and leaned back on two legs of the chair.
“Nothin’,” He said quickly, training his eyes on Birdy as he handed out the
midterm exam. “Ready to fail miserably?” Sweets asked quietly when the group in
front of us received their copies and groaned simultaneously. Anxiety gripped
at my chest, weighing it down heavily, causing me to inhale deeply in an effort
to relax.
“It’ll be fine,” I replied, leaning closer to him when Birdy neared us. “As
long as you don’t overthink it, can’t be so bad.” I offered him an encouraging
smile, immediately hunching over the booklet placed in front of me.
“You have seventy-five minutes starting now.”
===============================================================================
“That was traumatizing.” I groaned, looking up at Donovan as Kabrina rubbed my
shoulders comfortingly, “I’ve never experienced a teacher completely one-eighty
a test like that.”
Don laughed to himself, popping another cherry tomato into his mouth as he
leaned forward so he could speak over the shouting Danny and Josh had fallen
into with the other boys, “Birdy’s known for that — most of the students aren’t
paying attention anyway so he gets away with it.”
I sighed in frustration, resting my head against the cool metal of the table,
“Unbelievable.” I breathed, looking up at Kabrina’s face. Her glossed lips were
pulled back into a sympathetic smile, acrylic nails raking over my back
comfortingly. “He’s gonna kill my average.” I groaned again, stuffing my hands
into the pocket of my hoodie.
“Think about it this way,” Bri started, stabbing her salad with her fork, “If
you completely fail at bio, you can slum it with the rest of us neanderthals.”
“Ooh,” Don teased, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner, “That was a big
word, Sobon — did Phillips teach you that one?”
“Bite me, Hobbs.” She growled, brown hues cutting to my cousin’s for a brief
moment before she returned her attention to me, ignoring the suggestive comment
that he quipped back. “Seriously, Cal, you’re gonna be fine. It’s one midterm.”
I pushed the remainder of my leftover macaroni towards Don, thankful when he
squeezed my hand and offered me a smile. “Heard you left late this morning —
everything okay?” He asked quietly when Kabrina turned her attention to
something Danny had said.
I nodded, “Just overslept. Did Dean talk about the meeting this morning?” I
asked, hoping Don would take the hint and drop the subject. He briefed over the
summary Dean had given him. Alice Cooper and Fred Andrews had spent fifteen
minutes yelling at each other from across the hall, Betty Cooper and Jughead (I
recognized the name from the previous night — he was the new kid) had caused a
commotion. Joshua nudged my side and joined into the conversation, muttering
something about some kid that had gotten jumped by a group of Serpents.
“Rumor has it he was stabbed in the leg.” He whispered quietly; my eyes
automatically looked past Don’s head to where the Serpents usually resided
during lunch hour. My stomach rolled uneasily; the tables were empty. No sign
of Toni, no sign of Fangs.
No sign of Sweet Pea.
“I highly doubt he was jumped,” I pressed dubiously, trying to remain
nonchalant. “Isn’t it sort of unheard of for the Serpents to cross the tracks
without reason?”
“Cal has a point,” Don nodded, “They don’t mix with the public often — the last
they really bothered anyone was at the Twilight.”
“The Twilight?” I asked, raising a brow in question.
“Drive in,” Kabrina hissed quietly; I looked over to her and smiled in
appreciation. “It was a greathook-up spot till the Serpents started trashing
it.”
I glanced down at my phone, grimacing at the time. “We should get going.” I
said  quickly, pulling my bag out from under my seat. I leaned over and ruffled
Don’s hair, pulling my History textbook off the table as Kabrina and I walked
side by side out of the double-doors leading to the outside world.
The sky was grim and dreary, remnants of the previous night’s thunderstorm
soaked the soil and grass but left a wonderful earthy smell in it’s wake.
My eyes caught sight of Sweet Pea’s lean figure bent over one of the tables at
the bottom of the stairs, eyes carefully watching the bystander that stood in
front of him. My body relaxed. His sleeves had been rolled up past his elbows,
dog tags hanging freely in the empty space. In the midst of the gloom of the
outside weather, his lips appeared purple, as though he were cold but the rest
of him didn’t give any indication he was bothered by the chilly wind as the
muscles rolled under his bare arms. “You can’t be half a Serpent.” He pressed
firmly, eyes narrowing at the boy in the red jacket before his brown hues
caught mine and softened.
I followed Kabrina down the steps past the group, noticing the subtle nudge
Sweets gave Fangs as the group slowly dispersed away from the table. I gripped
the strap on my bag tightly, gnawing on my bottom lip as Kabrina dove into her
usual pre-calc rant. I could hear the sound of their boots against the pavement
behind us; I tried to nonchalantly look around and just over my shoulder. Sure
enough, Sweet Pea and Fangs trailed along not too far from where we walked,
their faces void of any emotion, hands shoved into the pockets of their jeans.
“I’ll catch you in fitness,” She sighed lazily, her boots rushing through the
muddy grass towards the outside portable where her class was held. “Try not to
stress about Birdy!” She called out just before she disappeared behind the
building. I waved once, feet slowing the slightest to aid in closing the
distance between the boys that followed along carefully behind me.
In under thirty seconds, they flanked me on either side as we turned around the
corner of the building; thankful to be out of eyesight to anyone that might
care enough to tell my cousins, I held my textbook out in the same second Sweet
Pea offered his hand to carry it for me. “Birdy got you good, huh?” Fangs
asked, eyes trained forward as we passed a group of heavily bruised Ghoulies. I
traded a glance with Pea, noting the smug smirk that occupied his lips.
“You could say that.” I grumbled, fixing the strays that had fallen out of my
ponytail throughout the day. “I don’t know how he expects anyone to pass if
he’s gonna pull that kinda crap.” The boys swapped looks overtop of my head,
their mouths pulled back over their teeth as they chuckled simultaneously.
“What?”
“He doesn’t expect anyone to pass,” Fangs stated, shrugging his shoulders when
my mouth fell open in mock-terror. “Given the lack of student involvement in
this school, would you really expect any different?”
“Guess not.” I  slipped through the open door that Sweets was holding open.
Fangs and I walked side by side as SP trailed along behind me, his heavy
footsteps echoing through the nearly empty hallway as students rushed to class.
“Still, I need to maintain my average if I want to get into York.”
“York?” Fangs asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.
I rolled my blue hues, turning my head to look at him as we climbed the stairs
to the second floor, “It’s a university in Canada I’m thinking about applying
to. Their psychology program is one of the best in North America — I just try
to meet their standards as a baseline for my grades. But they’re super
competitive, so it’s a far fetched dream.”
“Canada?” Sweet Pea asked, brows pulled together as his eyes focused on the
floor space right in front of him.
I nodded, “That’s the plan, boys.” I sighed, thinking back to the photographs
of the city that York was based in. Toronto was a growing New York City. Tall
buildings, a city full of opportunity — goosebumps erupted over my arms at the
mere thought. “I’m getting far, far away from here as soon as humanly
possible.” I stated firmly, meeting Fangs’ smile with a grin of my own.
Pea followed me to our seats on the right hand side of the classroom — today,
Fangs kicked Abby out of her usual seat in the desk beside me to stick close to
Sweet Pea. I offered her a sympathetic look, although futile, I’m sure she
understood better than to question Fangs reasoning. Sweets straddled his chair,
arms folded on the top of my desk as he absently propped his chin on his folded
arms, eyes seeming lost. Not squandering the opportunity, I used my pinky to
brush his bangs away from his face. His warm orbs looked up at me before he
sighed tiredly, sitting upright.
When Fangs attention had been pulled elsewhere, I leaned forward, “So … heard
some Northside kid got stabbed last night.” I started, watching his face
carefully for a reaction, “Wanna tell me what that’s about?” Sweet Pea sat up a
little taller, point blank staring back at me as I raised my brow in question,
“Christ, Sweets, please tell me you didn’t stab some kid in the leg —”
“No one stabbed him,” He interrupted with a scowl, stealing the pen from my
hand so he could doodle on my notebook. “But that didn’t stop the police from
hauling our asses in this morning.”
“Wait — what?” I looked over at Fangs who was listening in; he nodded slowly,
lips pressed into a firm line. I licked my lips, running a tired hand over my
face as Sweet Pea’s face paled. “When?”
“I was late to first,” He responded absently, completing his seventh cube
before he started on the eighth, “Snotbag stabbed himself — with
his own knife.” He added, eyes cutting to mine to drill it in. Not Sweets
knife. His own knife.
“He stabbed himself and blamed it on you?” I asked dubiously, leaning back in
my chair.
Fangs leaned over, “Wouldn’t be the first time. This town is notorious for
pinning everything that goes wrong on the Serpents.”
“What about the Ghoulies?”
Sweets scoffed, dropping my pen on the table, “What about them? They’re not a
threat to anyone unless they’re racing — and that’s if they get caught.” The
boys shared a look, their faces simultaneously falling. “We’re the bad guys.”
I fixed my eyes on Ms Martensen as she entered the room, dropping her notes
down onto her desk at the front with more force than necessary. A small part of
me wanted to reach out and grab his hand. To squeeze it and offer some form of
comfort. Truthfully, the way I saw it, the Serpents did a lot more to keep the
peace on the Southside of the tracks than anyone else. They never posed an
initial problem or threat — perhaps a nuisance with their dive bar and
assertive dominance, but not really the biggest problem this town had.
I hit his calf with the side of my boot, meeting his eyes with a feeble smile.
He spent the remainder of the period turned in his seat, not paying Martensen
or her lecture any mind, but instead faced me and watched as I wrote down notes
(I wrote his down, too — a habit we had fallen into). Fangs pulled his desk
over to mine; that action alone pulled the attention of several classmates
towards our group (to which Sweet Pea threatened to bash skulls if they didn’t
mind their own business).
“What are you doing tonight?” He asked when we parted ways with Fangs; his
spur-of-the-moment bad mood had vanished and was replaced with a new found
optimism. Curious, I shrugged and stopped outside of our marketing class to
look up at his tall frame.
Avoiding him seemed futile. It wouldn’t matter if I transferred classes, or
made an effort to ignore him. I didn’t want to cut him from my life. I had
grown comfortable having someone walk me to my classes, someone to tell others
off so I wouldn’t have to. “Nothing — what’s up?”
“Couple of us are going to the Whyte Wyrm after last period. Wanna come with?”
He suggested hopefully, tilting his head to the side as he leaned his hand
against the wall above my head and leered over me. I thought back to the dimly
lit bar; despite the obvious lack of care for most of the patrons, the bar was
not only filthy, but also heavily smelt of sweat and cigars. I tried to keep
myself from cringing outwardly, failing miserably as Pea hung his head in
defeat, “C’mon, babydoll, it’s not that bad. Fangs will be there, same with
Toni.”
“Right — because she’s definitely my biggest fan.” I chimed grimly, watching a
group of girls scatter their eyes when I looked in their direction. After
several moments of contemplation and chewing on my lip, I met his eyes again
and sighed, “I just think it’s a bad idea.” I mused quietly, watching his mouth
threaten a smile.
“You’re nervous.” He stated cheekily, lips breaking into a coy smirk when I
turned my face away. The heat crept into my neck and cheeks — suddenly his
proximity was overwhelming. The scent of his breath, the cigarette and mint,
was intoxicating. “Don’t be nervous,” He dropped his voice into a whisper, hand
moving to caress my jaw and force my face forward so he could meet my eyes.
“I’ll make sure no one gives you shit. Serpents honor.”
“What a gentleman,” I teased, leaning into the warmth of his hand momentarily
before I reluctantly nodded in agreement. My heart beat erratically in my chest
as his lips pulled back over his teeth, the normal smirk that graced his
features melted into an excited, boyish grin. “I’ll try not to embarrass you in
front of your friends.”
He pushed off the wall to stand tall, extending his middle digit towards me.
“Promise?”
I had the mind to reach forward and slap his hand, but instead locked my finger
around his and swung them lazily between our close bodies, “Promise.” I sighed,
walking backwards towards the classroom. “You’re not coming?” I asked when he
handed me my textbook.
“Got some business to take care of,” Sweets replied, “I’ll see you later —
don’t keep me waiting.”
“Bite me, Pea.” I snorted, casting him a playful smirk. His eyes trailed down
the length of my body, pulling his lower lip between his teeth in hunger and
bit back a reply, then turned on his heels before he disappeared around the
corner. The grin on my face had surpassed any rational emotion I could
understand. I was definitely so far past trying to keep Sweet Pea at a
distance, moreso wanted invited him in. Craved his presence. I wanted to know
more about who he was when you peeled back the layers, and I wasn’t going to
find my answers by shoving my earbuds in and ignoring that he existed
altogether.
My lips fell instantaneously when all students in the marketing room watched me
as I entered; I tucked my chin into my chest and hurriedly made my way to my
seat in the back of the room. The class was quieter without the presence of
Sweet Pea and his friends. For the first time in my high school career, I
pulled my headphones from my bag and turned the volume up on the music that
blared through them in an effort to ignore the teacher droning on at the front
of the room.
I pulled out my sketchbook, flipped to a fresh page and started with the
outline of that goddamn smile.
===============================================================================
I stared at the neon signs just behind the chained fence and felt a shiver
crawl along my spine. The outside was littered in cigarette butts and motor
oil, bikes occupying all of the walking space outside of the front doors.
My feet carried me forward towards the bar as Kabrina stared into the screen of
her phone to fix her lipstick. I stopped in my tracks, turning around to look
at her with a quirked brow, “What are you doing?” I asked in annoyance. I found
it hard to believe after all the crap she had to say about the Serpents that
she really cared for their opinion of her. And yet, she had made an incredibly
huge deal about going home to change and ‘get our bitch on’ (I was more
reluctant to the idea, mainly because I didn’t want to make a huge deal out of
Pea’s invitation. Bri had other plans.) We swapped looks, her face falling as
she shoved her gloss back into her bag and sneered in my direction,
“Some of them are hot.” She grumbled, adjusting her top a little lower to
promote her assets. I rolled my eyes.
“Like who?” I asked dubiously, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jean
coat. “Fangs?”
She contemplated that thought for a moment, tapping her perfectly sculpted red
claw against her cheek before she nodded slowly, “Maybe Fangs.” She agreed (I
wasn’t being serious, but Kabrina didn’t seem to care) then shook her head and
nudged my side, “Sweet Pea’s a total babe. Once you get past the whole jackass
thing, he’s completely fuckable.”
“Oh, gross.” I whined, taking a step away from her in disgust, “Can you not
objectify my friend like that, he’s actually very nice.”
Kabrina’s lips sputtered before she laughed once, “Sweets? Nice?” I tried to
keep the annoyance off my face as she linked her arm around over my shoulders
and leaned into my ear, “He’s just flirtin’, Cal. Nothing we all haven’t
experienced.”
While I believed her and knew she probably wasn’t far from the truth, I
couldn’t help but feel a painful pull at my heart. Any optimism I had quickly
vanished and was replaced with anxiety — perfect. Just what I needed. “Bri,” I
asked, stopping her to turn and look at me just outside of the doors. A group
of men in their mid-thirties peered up at us from their bikes, their chatter
dropping as we awkwardly stood on the front steps. “Look at me.”
I didn’t have to spend much time with Kabrina to learn just how often she
toked. While her eyes gave no immediate indication that she was in fact baked
out of her mind, they did eventually start to appear different. The whites of
her eyes had glossed over, appearing more dark and unfocused. I sighed, eyes
pressing tightly together, pulling a quiet giggle past her lips, “Don’t tell
Don. He’d freak, okay?”
“Don’t say anything stupid, Sobon.” I growled in annoyance, pulling the door
open. The few feet in front of me were dimly lit by the setting sun outside,
showcasing the floating dust prior to the door closing. It appeared much of the
same way it did the first night I walked into it. Cigarette butts littered the
floor, smoke clung to the air, patrons turned in their seats, brows furrowed as
they stared at me. My eyes lingered on the choice in decor — wet t-shirt
contest posters, half naked women, liquor brands, street signs — almost
everything I expected out of the grimiest bar in every town in America. I
beelined for the pool table in the corner that had Sweet Pea bent over, focused
so intently on his shot that he hadn’t noticed when I’d come to stand behind
him.
“You’re late,” He accused, trading the pool cue from his right to left hand so
he could sneak his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck and hug me into
his side. I felt my eyes involuntarily shut, bringing my arms up to wrap around
his frame in a tight squeeze before I released him and looked to where Kabrina
stood; she had already occupied the seat next to Fangs. Toni rolled her eyes.
“But I came.” I countered, watching the left side of his mouth pull up into a
half smile. “And I didn’t embarrass you.” I added as he leaned against the
table, pulling a disgruntled huff from Tall Boy.
“Yet.” Sweet Pea’s eyes leveled with mine, inviting me closer. I stood on
either side of his right knee, arms folded as the group dispersed briefly to
refill on drinks and light up their smokes. His black t-shirt had been tucked
into his grey jeans, plaid shirt left open as he fixed his sleeves higher up on
his biceps, collar popped out over the top of his leather vest. I pulled on his
wrist, running my thumb over the bracelets on his right hand,  “Guessin’ you’re
not nervous anymore.” He noted, gesturing to my outfit with a coy smile.
I looked down, gnawing on my bottom lip anxiously. The rips in the legs all but
left bare cut outs in my jeans, and my stomach was freely exposed. It wasn’t an
outfit I wouldn’t wear — the clothing had come from my closet, they just simply
wouldn’t have been my first choice for this particular evening festivities.
“Blame Kabrina.” I grumbled, folding my arms over my midsection.
“Nah, you’re fine.” He shrugged, knocking his knee into mine, “Makes you look
tough.”
“Tough, huh? What, my crippling social anxiety isn’t good enough for you?” I
teased, stealing the pool cue from his hand.
We spent the better half of the next hour swapping between playing pool and
darts; Sweet Pea (while impressed with my decent game play) was ecstatic that
we had won against Tall Boy. Heaping mountains of fries had been placed onto
the table as they paired off for another game. I watched Sweet Pea bend over
the edge of the table and break, sending the various coloured balls into
different directions.
Kabrina snapped her fingers in front of my face, pulling my attention away from
the way his hair fell over his eyes as he set up for his next shot, “What?” I
snapped angrily, shoving another fry into my mouth.
“Did you hear Fangs?” She asked, voice trailing off as I blinked and looked
over at him. “There’s a bonfire at the quarry tonight — you coming?”
I pulled my brows together, “Bonfire?”
Toni leaned over, “Their way of saying they’re going to get stupid drunk at the
quarry. A few of us get together every week and blow off some steam. It’s fun,
you should come.” I looked sideways at her as she nodded enthusiastically.
Despite my previous inkling that she might not have liked me, she had warmed up
significantly since I’d arrived. Toni Topaz wasn’t all that bad; she was the
only one in the immediate area that told decent jokes, she nearly took off
Fangs’ hand for trying to touch my wings and she complimented me at least three
times since I had sat down next to her. Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I
looked over to where Sweet Pea stood, watching Tall Boy line up his shot.
“I think Dean might totally kill me if he found out I went to a party on a
school night — I’ll pass.”
“Next time for sure,” She concluded, stealing a fry from the basket split
between us. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”
“We’ll see,” I laughed, dunking the fry into the little barrel of ketchup;
Sweet Pea’s voice broke over the hum of chatter, drawing my attention away from
her beaming smile to see what the commotion was about.
“Think this Northsiders lost.” He drawled. I could hear the annoyance in his
voice. My eyes focused on the teen that had joined the group; all eyes of
nearby patrons had moved to watch as he came to a halt next to Tall Boy.
“I’m not,” He said simply, exchanging a hard look with Sweet Pea. Pea’s chin
lifted, eyes displaying obvious doubt. “I’m over being half a Serpent.”
“That’s Jughead, FP’s kid.” Toni whispered; we leaned against each other,
turning in our seats while swapping a knowing look as Sweet Pea stalked
forward, brows pulled together in slight annoyance.
“Wow,” He started, hips swaying as he walked over to where Jughead stood, “You
will do anything to protect your Northside buddies.” He spat, eyes glued to the
table as his frame knocked into the offender’s. Jughead staggered back on his
heels, bottom lip pulled in between his teeth.  
“My father was a Serpent,” Jughead countered, staring SP down. Pea rolled his
eyes, picking up the blue chalk square off the edge of the table. Toni’s
worried eyes watched the pair, fidgeting with the glass rum and coke in her
hand. Fangs shot me a look, shaking his head the slightest when I sighed. “He
led you,” Jughead continued, turning to look over at Tall Boy who had rounded
to our end of the table, “I want to stand with you guys.
I watched a group of women sitting behind Sweet Pea snicker, exchanging dubious
looks of their own. Tall Boy’s face mimicked much of what Sweet Pea’s did: thin
patience. From across the table, I saw SP look up at Tall Boy, his mouth taunt.
“Tall Boy was the one who gave me this jacket,” Jughead announced to the room;
several patrons muttered to themselves and watched him closely, still analyzing
his moves. “It’s finally time I start wearing it.” He sighed, looking towards
where Toni and I sat for a brief moment before he cut to Tall Boy. Toni’s lips
pressed into an encouraging half smile before she quickly downed the remainder
of her drink.
“Now you wanna be a Serpent, huh?” Tall Boy’s voice was low and raspy, dropping
the end of his pool cue against the floor as he came to stand in front of
Jughead. “Let’s see if you survive the initiation first.”
His assertive dominance made me think about the night he decided appropriate
corrective action to the gang’s problem with Dean was simply to burn his flesh
until their brand was no longer recognizable. That his hands had held the
torch, or held him down. Muffled his screams. That his words were law, that his
decision was the final decision. It made him all the more terrifying to me;
while he hadn’t appeared to be anything other than a stereotypical biker, the
shake in his step, the intensity of the power his voice had, all contributed to
how fearful I was of him.
Kabrina leaned across the table, trailing her fingers across my skin to pull my
attention to her. “Initiation?” She hissed, the same confusion that washed over
me mimicked in her features.
“It’s a series of trials to prove yourself,” Fangs started, sipping on his
drink. “Your knowledge on the code, your fearlessness, your bravery, having the
strength to go through whatever is thrown at you. We get cornered into
difficults positions and sometimes our backs are against the walls. Sometimes
we take the fall when we weren’t to blame to protect others. Sometimes we take
physical torment for hours or days to protect our brothers,” He shrugged, “It’s
intense, but that’s a choice each of us was willing to make.”
I felt a warm palm press against the exposed skin on my lower back; my head
turned so that I could meet Sweet Pea’s slight grimace. He slid the hand
against my back before he settled on resting it against the table as his chest
pressed into my shoulders, stealing a fry from the basket in the center of the
table. “It’s more than just some code, though.” Toni added, her warm hues
darting over to where Jughead was retreating. “It’s a lifestyle. See you boys
later, ‘kay?” She saluted the group as she shrugged into her jacket, pulling
her bag across her chest before she darted after her friend.
I leaned forward onto the table, Sweet Pea following suit as his arm came up to
wrap around my neck, plucking his drink from the batch. “You’re getting your
ass kicked, Pea.” I said grimly, looking over to where Tall Boy sat counting
and straightening out his earned cash.
He scowled adorably, shoving another fry into his mouth as he followed my eyes,
looking over at Tall Boy. “Man cheats,” He stated firmly, propping his chin up
on his knuckles, “You gotta help me, babydoll.”
I picked up my coke, taking a healthy swing as I rolled my eyes, “I’m not some
bar game guru or good luck charm — don’t get it twisted, Sweets.”
“One more round,” He suggested, pulling me forward with his arm so that our
noses almost touched. There was a snicker that sounded from the next table
over, a tall blond male watching us straightened up and twisted his body to
face us, pulling the toothpick from his mouth. “Got something to say, Jinj?”
Pea sneered, the right half of his top lip pulling up.
“Yeah,” He laughed, nudging his friend in the side as I hopped out of my chair
and wandered over to the pool table to rack the balls, “Just wonderin’ how much
you gotta beg for ‘one more round’ with snow bunny over there.” His thumb
jerked in my direction; I averted my eyes, pretending I couldn’t hear him.
“The hell are you talkin’ about?” Sweets asked, folding his arms across his
chest.
Jinj brought his beer bottle to his lips, smirking as he replied, “C’mon, Pea.
Look at those legs,”
“And that ass!” A back of the room comment called, pulling my eyes up from the
green of the table. Several eyes of bystanders darted between the boys and I,
watching Sweet Pea especially close. Tall Boy looked up from his meal, eyes
trained on the back of Pea’s head.
“Let’s not forget that mouth.” Jinj concluded, his tongue rolling along his
bottom lip as he focused on my face. I swallowed uncomfortably, staring down at
my hands that pressed flat onto the top of the table.
“Are you fuckin’ stupid?” Sweets asked angrily, taking a step towards the male.
The blond took a step back, holding his hands up in defense, gesturing to me
with the hand that held his drink. “Hey man, look at her!”
Sweet Pea did: his head turned, warm brown orbs hungrily trailing up my body
starting at my feet. He paused momentarily on my hips and waist, before his
eyes trailed along my extended arms and then finally settled on my face.
Whenever he looked at me, I felt as though he were peeling away all of the
layers. Not just my clothing, but the walls I had built up to keep people
(especially people like him) out. His eyes and mouth seemed to soften, inhaling
deeply as though the sight comforted him.
I stood upright, pulling my lips into a weak smile.
Pea’s fist collided quickly with the side of Jinj’s face, throwing his body
backwards. The raven haired Serpent grabbed hold of his shirt, lifting him off
the ground as he turned to slam him down onto the pool table, scattering the
balls I had racked. My body jumped back in surprise, watching Sweet Pea with
wide eyes. His left hand came up to grip tightly onto the blond’s throat as his
right hand worked at incredible speed to smash into his face.
“Pea,” I said loudly, pulling my hands down my arms anxiously. When he gave no
indication he planned on stopping, I (against my better judgement) stepped
forward under the lamp and slapped my hand onto the table hard, “Sweets!” I
yelled over the clapping and hollering of the bystanders, causing his fist to
pause mid-air.
He turned his head, nostrils flared as he examined my face. I counted three
heavy breaths that he took, watching his face slowly relax. His hand dropped,
but didn’t loosen his grip on Jinj’s throat. “Apologize.” He demanded, looking
down at his victim with hard eyes.
“I’m s-so sorry, Pea, I didn’t —”
“Not me, jackass!” He slammed his head back onto the table with a grunt, “Her.”
Jinj tiled his head so that he could look at me. His eyes appeared frightened,
nose bloodied and lip swelling on the right side. I grimaced. “I’m sorry — so
sorry.” He quickly spat out, side eyeing up at Pea worriedly. SP tightened his
grip the slightest, pulling a strangled cry from Jinj, “I’m sorry, I’m
sorry, I’m sorry!” He yelled weakly, face turning red under Pea’s vice hold.
“Ease up,” I pleaded, taking another step towards their bodies, hand resting on
the arm that still held Jinj captive. “He said he’s sorry, let him go.”
Pea watched Jinj’s face for two heartbeats before he pulled him upright. Once
he was certain Jinj could stand on his own, his hands came up to fix the
blond’s jacket, straightening it out before he turned to the table, finished
his drink and then slapped a twenty on the wood.
He exchanged a brief set of words with Fangs; I watched Kabrina’s face brighten
as she turned to me with a subtle thumbs up. I almost smacked my palm against
my forehead. Sweet Pea pulled my jacket off Fangs’ chair, holding it out as he
walked towards me, “Let’s bounce.” He said quietly, holding a hand against my
back to usher me towards the door.
I followed without much complaint, happy to be evading the curious and nosy
stares of those around us in the bar. That, and fresh air was certainly a
bonus. Pea continued walking after he descended the stairs, long legs
stretching across the parking lot faster than I could keep up. I struggled
behind him, jumping over puddles and potholes.
“Pea,” I called, slipping my arms through the sleeves of my jacket as the cool
air bit at my exposed flesh. “Tiny person speed, please.” I complained,
thankful when he halted his steps to turn and wait for me. He resumed walking
once I stood next to his side, leading me towards the sidewalk across the
street. “Gonna tell me what all that was about?”
“Jinj is a sexist prick,” He spat, shoving his hands into the pocket of his
jeans. “No further explanation required.”
“Fair,” I started, looking sideways up at him, “Anything else?”
He glanced down at me quickly, face pulling into slight annoyance as he sighed,
“No.”
We walked in silence to the parking lot two blocks down. Nestled into the
corner was another group of bikes left unattended. I recognized the largest of
the group as Sweet Pea’s, noting the way the Harley Davidson chrome nameplate
shined in contrast to the dark paint. Pea’s fingers pulled a set of keys from
his jacket pocket, legs straddling his seat as he held out the silver helmet to
me.
I awkwardly grabbed it, holding it in my tiny hands, catching a glimpse of the
girl in the reflection. Her eyes were wide with adrenalin, face paled like the
moon in the sky behind her. I gnawed on my lower lip and glanced down to the
spot behind him that I was expected to sit on.
“What?” He asked, eyes focused on the hesitation on my face.
“Can’t we walk?” I responded, nose crinkling the slightest.
Sweet Pea laughed once, turning the ignition on. The engine revved; he looked
over at me before he sighed, “Get on the bike.” He said, lips pulling into an
excited smile.
“That’s not even a seat.” I accused, pointing to the small leather patch behind
him.
“How big do you think you are?” He asked me, face serious as his hands rested
on his thighs. “You’re the same size as Toni and she fits just fine.”
“I’m just trying to make it to graduation with all of my skin, okay?”
He laughed again, shaking his head as he leaned forward on his handle bars.
“Y’know your lack of confidence in me is a little insulting, right?”
“I’m walking distance — why do we have to take the bike?”
Sweet Pea sighed in irritation, “Do you really wanna know?” He asked, sitting
upright with his hands in his thighs again. When I nodded once, he looked
forward into the darkness of the street, tongue rolling along his lips, “You on
the back of his bike is the closest I’m gonna get to the inside of your
thighs.” He admitted, casting a sideways glance at me to gauge my
reaction. “Get on the fucking bike.”
I rolled my eyes, reluctantly shoving the helmet onto my head. Not because of
what he said, but merely because he wouldn’t give in. I snapped the visor down,
throwing my leg over the seat to straddle it comfortably. That proved difficult
when I realized my legs were too short to reach either side, forcing me to grip
tightly around Pea’s stomach, fingers clutching onto the fabric of his shirts.
My thighs involuntarily squeezed when he rounded turns, weaving in and out of
traffic, mapping around the entire Southside before he took the main street
down towards Dean’s, ensuring he parked one block down so that the boys
wouldn’t notice us if they by chance happened to look out of the window.
“Can I come upstairs?” He asked quickly when I started to walk up to the
sidewalk.
I turned on my heels, throwing him an incredulous glare, “You already know the
answer to that. Serpents aren’t allowed through my front door.” Sweet Pea
nodded slowly, trying to keep whatever smile that threatened his lips hidden. I
folded my arms, and shrugged, “It’s a personal thing.” I explained, “Not really
my place to impose.”
He dismissed me with a wave of his hand, folding his arms across his chest.
“Goodnight, Calliope.” He mumbled, leaning against his bike with a defeated
look as I backed away.
The warmth inside the house hit me immediately; Dean sat on the couch, book in
hand as I shut the door and smiled impishly, silently apologizing as he looked
over my outfit, “You look like a hipster hobo.” He commented, returning his
eyes to his book. “I’m on board with the rips, but this is a little weird.”
I looked down at my jeans, nodding in agreement. They had started out with cut
knees and trendy rips. Somewhere over the years, the front parts had been
ripped and stretched completely, leaving a large cut out in both pantlegs. “Bri
picked it out.” I sighed. “Guess I should consider going back to Greendale to
get some new jeans.”
“How was your night?” He asked, eyes not lifting from his book.
“Good,” I said honestly, thinking back to the parts of the night that didn’t
involve any Serpent drama. “I had fun.”
“Good.” Dean repeated, nodding once in approval. “Glad you’ve made some
friends.”
I tried to keep my face neutral when he met my eyes. “Yeah,” I mused, rearing
my thoughts back to Fangs and Toni. How different they were from Sweet Pea, yet
so alike. It were as though they were different sides of the same coin. All
incredibly intense and volatile, but unique with their separate personalities.
“Me too.” We sat in silence for a few moments before he coughed into his hand
and returned to his book, silently dismissing me. “Night.” I called once my
feet hit the stairs, arms already shrugging out of my jacket.
I pushed open my door, absently draping my coat on one of the hooks by the door
as I kicked off my boots. A warm hand grabbed my arm, turning me quickly as
their fingers came up to wrap over my mouth when I began to squeal. In the
darkness with my back pressed against the door, Sweet Pea pressed his finger to
his mouth. Once he was certain I wouldn’t scream, he removed his hand and
cracked a smile, “He said no Serpents were allowed through the door. He said
nothin’ about your window.” 
***** EIGHT *****
It went on like that for the next few days. On nights when he didn’t have the
opportunity to see me at work, I’d receive a warning message fifteen minutes
prior to him crawling through my window. We’d eat snacks, watch movies on my
laptop and stay up late talking about all of the what if’s we’d ever wondered
about. He still tossed in snide comments and compliments, seeming more at ease
with each passing night. More confident. More sure of himself (although I was
certain that wasn’t really possible).
Admittedly, I’d found myself allowing the elusive comments. Even engaged in
continuing one conversation, watching his lips pull wider as I fully accepted
the suggestive compliment. Sweet Pea would run his fingers through my hair,
massage my skull and draw circles on my back until I had fallen asleep. He’d
then sneak back out of the window and say nothing about anything we talked
about at night during the school hours. We were two different people within the
school walls, making my time with him alone at night all that much more
interesting. Private. Intimate.
Danny, Don, Josh and their friends played hooky for the day, leaving Kabrina
and I to fend for ourselves for lunch. We sat at our regular table, glancing
around at the rows of empty seats. We hadn’t been seated for more than five
minutes before Kabrina’s phone lit up and three texts from Fangs came through.
“They want us to sit with them.” She whispered, looking up at me with a quirked
brow. I slipped my eyes past her head, blue hues focusing on the group that
simultaneously turned their heads to look over at us. Toni waved her short arm,
smile beaming from across the room. Involuntarily, I smiled, too.
Damn her.
I watched Kabrina sling her bag onto her back, shoving her phone into her rear
pocket with her eyes focused on me. “Well?” She asked, tucking her dark hair
behind her ear. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t know if we should.” I hissed, shivering slightly as a cool chill ran
down my spine. “Hanging out at the Whyte Wyrm is one thing — this is different.
If anyone cares enough to tell Don or Danny, it isn’t your ass that’s getting
shipped out of town.” Her brown orbs rolled, hand darting quickly to swipe my
phone off the table before she turned and began walking towards the fenced in
portion of the cafeteria. “Hey!” I whined. Fangs smiled, moving over as she
entered so she could sit next to him; Sweet Pea draped his arm lazily over the
empty seat between he and Fangs, head tilting to the side.
I remained seated, nervously gripping onto my mother’s necklace as I stared
down at my sandwich. While I enjoyed what time I was able to spend with the
group outside of Southside High, I wasn’t willing to partake in obliterating
the wall between them and the rest of us that didn’t belong to either gang.
I started to shove my earbuds in when a bottle of apple juice was set down in
front of me. My eyes trained on the familiar thumb tattoo and ring, shoulders
involuntarily relaxing as I looked up at Sweet Pea. He flipped the chair around
and straddled it, “I was gonna get myself one.” I mumbled, wrapping the cord of
my headphones around my iPod.
“Now you don’t have to.” He responded with a shrug, leaning forward onto the
table with his elbows. He tossed my phone onto the table; I shoved it into my
sweater pocket. The cafeteria had lulled into a quiet hum, tables upon tables
of students turning their heads to look at the pair of us in the back corner.
I brought the bottle to my lips, fingers playing with the cap as I looked
around. “You do realize literally every human being in this room is staring at
us like we have seven heads, right?”
Sweet Pea shrugged, ripping open my bag of chips, “So?” He asked as he chewed
around a Dorito, brown orbs lazily looking up to me. “Who cares? Not their
business.”
We ate in silence in the center of the chaos. It was odd, imagining the visual
people were witnessing. Without a doubt, seeing the school’s loudest and most
intolerable (yet lovable) Serpent sit in the middle of the entire student body
with a girl who seemed to be everything but his type, eating lunch in utter
silence. We finished our meals, only meeting eyes every once and awhile. After
he tossed his empty chip bag into the trash, he returned to his seat and
watched me thoughtfully, “What are you doing tonight after work?” He asked,
rubbing his hands together.
I shrugged, lowering my voice, “Boondocks with you?” I questioned, curious as
to why he had to ask. “Why? Are you not coming?” I asked, cringing inwardly
when my voice appeared worried and desperate.
“Of course I am.” He chuckled, “Jughead’s trials start tonight. Figured it
might be a learning opportunity for you. See what we’re really about. Get a
feel of the environment.”
I looked down at my empty sandwich bag, “If you’re trying to convince me you’re
not a bad guy, you can save it.” I said simply, offering another shrug, looking
up at him from under my lashes, “You’re my best friend, unfortunately. It would
kind of suck to hate you.”
He nodded in agreement, leaning forward onto the table, voice as quiet as mine,
“Come because I want to see you showing a little more skin than usual, bent
over a pool table and stealing all of Tall Boys money before some kid screams
in his face and sticks his hand into a bin with a rattlesnake.”
“What?” I asked quickly, feeling the horror cross my features. I disregarded
the first half of his sentence completely, moreso concerned about Jughead.
“Why is he sticking his hand into a bin with a rattlesnake?” I cried loudly,
feeling my cheeks start to warm under the flesh as the students around us
watched us with complete confusion.
“Come with me tonight and you’ll see why.” He countered, patiently waiting for
my answer.
I sighed, looking past his shoulder to where Fangs and Toni sat, heads thrown
back in laughter with the remainder of his friends. “You’re paying for my
bets.” I concluded, watching my favourite boyish grin break through. Sweet Pea
swiped my history textbook from the table and stood, smugly grinning when I
stood with him and walked towards the doors, pausing momentarily to let Fangs
catch up before heading to class.
I held the rum and coke to my lips, watching Pea nervously when he shot back
his fourth drink in the last half hour. I hardly drank, especially not when
Dean had no idea it was something I had tried. I wouldn’t consider myself an
alcoholic, and hardly ever drank (if at all), courtesy of daddy dearest. Pea
draped a lazy arm over my shoulders, hugging me into his side as he waited
patiently for Tall Boy to finish his game with Toni. I leaned into his warmth,
noting that as the cooler weather rolled around, I would have to resort to
longer sleeves (or longer tops in general) and less skirts if I planned to
visit the bar frequently. “Are you even going to have time for a round? Jughead
should be getting here in what? Twenty minutes?”
Pea nodded, “He’s almost done.”
“They just started.” I reminded him, throwing back the rest of my drink. I
watched Tall Boy hit ball after ball, each rolling clean into their desired
pockets. “Oh.” I said after his fifth straight hit, brows pulling together.
“There’s a reason why he’s got so much cash.” Sweets said with a chuckle,
noting the awe in my features.
“No kidding.” I grumbled, watching Toni’s arms fold across her chest with a
slight eyeroll. “Your games are much longer.”
“I spent a lot of time in this bar growing up. Got real good at it real fast.”
Within minutes, Toni was shoving the pool cue into Sweet Pea’s outreached hand,
taking her stool next to my spot behind the glass cage. The snake hissed
eagerly, slowly creeping along the bottom of the glass. I grimaced, training my
eyes forward as Sweet Pea leaned over the table to pull the balls together. “He
cheats.”  Toni grumbled.
“I think Pea said the same thing.” I laughed, nodding to Fangs as he pulled up
beside us with refills, licking his lips hungrily as Teddy set the basket of
onion rings down in front of us. We all reached into it, humming happily as the
warmth settled into our empty stomachs. “Is he nervous?” I asked Toni,
separating Pea’s drink from everyone else’s.
“He’s determined.” She replied with a sigh, lifting her shoulders in a half
shrug, “I think something I said to him sent him on this hellbent path that he
has to be apart of this gang to prove something to everyone — or himself, I
can’t decide which it is. Gonna cause a lot of issues with his girl.” I rose an
eyebrow in question, pressing her to continue as I brought my drink to my lips.
“Betty Cooper — her mom was a Serpent once upon a time. Dunno what happened,
don’t care. He’s all hearteye emoji’s and Romeo with her, it’s —”
“Sickening?” I asked, finishing the sentence for her.
To my surprise, she corrected me, “Wonderful.” I watched her curiously, “I
think we’re all silently hoping we’ll have the same luxury. The kids in this
generation of Serpents .. we want to be different than our parents. We don’t
want to just be in a gang and have it be that. We all want an epic love that
lasts forever. Without the fighting and yelling, without abuse. Something
wholesome.”
“I think that’s just most people in general, Topaz.” I laughed once, looking
down at the table.
“Maybe,” She sighed, watching Sweet Pea and Tall Boy for a moment before she
popped another onion ring into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Bri and Fangs
are a thing now, did you know?”
I rose my brows, “I did not. What the hell, dude?” I asked, smacking Fangs in
the shoulder lightly around Toni’s body. “What gives?”
“We’re not a thing. We’re just fooling around.” He defended, holding his hands
out like it were the obvious.
Toni rolled her eyes, “He’s got it bad.”
“Oh, fuck off, Topaz.” He growled, pulling his straw between his lips, eyes
narrowed as he stared forward.
“Mhm. Case and point,” She said quietly to me, “Speaking of being a thing, you
and Pea.” Toni raised her brows suggestively, smiling behind her drink.
I leaned back, eyebrows pulled together, “What?”
“Oh, c’mon. Standing together, hugging, walking you to every class? Everyone
can see.” When I maintained composure on my face, she huffed in frustration,
“Neither one of you will just come out and say it, that’s the problem. I know
for a fact that if you looked Sweets in the eye and told him you wanted him, he
would never look at another female again.”
I leaned forward onto the table, ready to comment on just how wrong she was
when the outside light broke into the bar. We all turned our heads, the crowd
silencing as Jughead entered the establishment, eyes scanning over the crowd
confidently. Sweet Pea and Tall Boy stood up straight, exchanging looks before
Fangs and Sweet Pea jogged around to the table, pulling his jacket off the back
of my chair.
“Showtime, sweetness.” He winked as he popped the collar on his jacket; I
watched Fangs join Pea’s flank as they moved to settle in front of the snakes
cage.
The crowd was deafening, and yelling into Tall Boy’s face was intimidating
enough as it is. Having an entire area jammed pack full of Serpents screaming
profanities at you was just as bad, if not worse. The boys separated when it
was time for his second trial. I watched Sweet Pea’s arms drop as he stood,
eyes transfixed on Jughead. Pea had mentioned having his doubts that the boy
would be able to follow through on everything. That Jug wouldn’t make it. And
that if he did make it through, and came out of the gauntlet alive, he swore up
and down he’d have a newfound respect for the boy. Jughead hesitated briefly
with the snake, looking up at Toni every so often for encouragement.
When the crowd separated in cheers, Jughead slammed the knife down onto the
pool table and gripped his hand tightly, eyes pressed shut tightly. He rushed
over to where Toni sat; I took that as my cue to leave. Sweet Pea was
snickering, reaching his arms out to wrap comfortably around my shoulders and
into my hair. I linked my arms together around his stomach, chin rested on his
chest as I started up at him, “What’re you laughing at?”
“The look on your face,” He teased, reaching a hand out to take the drink Fangs
extended towards him. I relished in the warmth of his jacket, smiling to myself
when I realized how small I was in comparison and how the leather engulfed me
entirely.
“A rattlesnake, Toni.” I overheard Jughead as he wrapped his hand in the white
gauze she had provided. “A rattlesnake bit me and drew blood.”
“One that had its venom glands removed.” She rolled her eyes, leaning forward
onto the table. ‘Kay, the important thing is that you showed no fear, you
grabbed the knife and you remembered all the laws. Which means you’re almost a
Serpent now, Juggie.”
I watched Jughead snap his head up abruptly, the pair sharing look before Toni
dropped her eyes and sighed.
Sweet Pea finished his drink, right hand sliding down the fabric of my cropped
tee until his fingertips reached the exposed skin of my lower back, palm
pressing into the warm flesh. I glanced up at him, noting the way his face was
pulled into a deep train of thought; his eyebrows were pulled together in the
middle, brown hues unfocused. “Stop doing that.” I said grimly, pulling a piece
of fluff off his chest.
He smiled smugly, shaking his head, “No.”
I thought back to what Toni had said earlier; curious, I rolled my eyes clinked
my bottle against his. “So .. can you tell me why the guy with no standards
doesn’t want to sleep with me?” I asked, taking a swig.
“Are you serious?” He asked, pulling the bottle from my mouth, then leaned
toward me. “First of all, I have standards. I’ve never been with an ugly
girl. Ever. Secondly, I wanted to sleep with you. I thought about throwing you
over my bed fifty different ways, but I haven’t because I don’t think it’s a
good idea.”
I couldn’t hold back the smug smile that crept across my face. “You think I’m
too good for you.”
He sneered at my second insult. “I can’t think of a single guy good enough for
you.”
Admittedly, my teeth had begun to feel numb, and I was leaning against his
frame to keep from swaying. He lowered his chin, warm brown orbs watching me
carefully. The smile that tugged on the corners of his lips filled my chest
with adoration, blue hues watching him as he dipped his face down, mouth
leaving warm kisses against my cheek and forehead. I hummed in delight.
“So, you didn’t end up leaving.” He mused suddenly, resting my head in the
crook of his neck as he hugged me. I felt his hand wander along my side, easing
over the gentle curve of my hip,. “I spent most of the initiation thinking you
were going to completely hate me and walk out.”
“You know what, Pea?” I tried not to laugh, the mixture in my stomach rolling
uneasily. Instead I rested my eyes and exhaled, “In another life, if you
weren’t part of this world and so forbiddingly tempting, I could love you.” I
mumbled.
His lips pressed to my neck; my body ran cold and I quickly pulled myself away,
looking around frantically to see if anyone had noticed. As far as I was
concerned, no one was watching us. My eyes, angry and narrowed, cut back to
Sweet Pea who stood leaning against the table, lips still slightly puckered and
face drawn in confusion. “What?”
I shook my head, leaned around his frame to grab my coat and turned on my
heels. Sweet Pea didn’t do relationships. I didn’t do relationships. I was
terrible at all things involving commitment to anyone but myself. He deserved
better than someone that was completely emotionally unavailable.
Was I? Emotionally unavailable? I hadn’t given the idea as much thought as I
should have. I had been so hellbent on trying to convince myself that Sweet Pea
wasn’t good for me, and that I wasn’t good for him. That we were just bad for
each other. That it was a mistake waiting to happen. Two people that happened
to be polar opposites, with unsteady emotions, crippling self doubt and more
anger than the entire town combined … we were a bad omen. Chaos would follow,
and we would ruin everything.
Pea stopped me once my feet reached the bottom of the stairs outside, his
fingers gripping my arm tightly to pull me back. “Okay, what is your problem?”
He asked when I shrugged out of his grip and continued walking, “Hey, I’m
talkin’ to you!”
“Pea,” I sighed, stopping in the middle of the crowded lot. I turned to face
him, throwing my hands up in the air in frustration, anger building in my
throat as I cried out. “You can’t just do that!”
“I’ve been drinking, ‘kay?” He growled in defeat, “Your skin was three inches
from my face, and you smell fucking awesome when you sweat. I kissed you! I’m
sorry!”
His excuse (despite just being an excuse) made the corners of my mouth turn up.
“Just take me home, okay?”
We walked shoulder to shoulder in comfortable silence. Once in the comfort of
Dean’s home, I went through my regular nightly routine, rushing through my
shower and drying off before slipping into my dimly lit room. Sweet Pea had
already snuck in through my window, nestled under the covers, laptop already
rested on his stomach. He hiccuped once, eyes resting on my oversized shirt.
“No pants? How will I ever behave myself?” He asked eagerly, watching me drop
my towel into the laundry bin in the corner and lift up the hem of my shirt
slowly, face falling when he caught a glimpse of my black shorts. “Fuckin’
spandex.” He grumbled, returning his eyes to the laptop screen.
I laughed once, pulling the covers back to crawl into the bed space next to
him. He lifted his arm, waiting until I had settled comfortably into his side
before he wrapped it around my shoulders. We watched a few episodes, the alarm
clock on my bedside table read 2:34 AM. We had to be awake in less than five
hours for school. Sweet Pea was scrolling through Netflix, fingers working
against the touch-pad so delicately and quickly; beneath my ear, his heart beat
erratically against his chest. I allowed myself to be comforted by the sound,
snaking my arm across his abdomen to hug him tightly. “You’re so warm.” I noted
with my eyes closed, hearing the laptop shut quietly.
He shifted then, removing the device from his lap so he could face me, eagerly
securing the other around my waist to hold me in place. The sigh that left his
lips sounded a lot like the billion others I had hear in the last twenty-four
hours. I pulled back so that I could look up at him, blue hues keeping a
careful eye on his mouth and brows, knowing any tells would be found in a
slight twitch of them. “What are you sighing for?”
It was a sad sound. Something about it indicated clear displeasure and
frustration. “Nothin’.” He mused, snaking a hand under my shirt to gently run
his fingers along my bare spine. My eyes fell shut.
“You’re lying.”
He paused for a moment before he entwined his fingers into my hair, and pressed
my face into his neck, tucking the top of my head under his chin. “Don’t worry
about it.”
“Hey,” I said quietly, pressing my nose into the pulse point, admiring the way
he smelt. “Tell me.”
There was a moment of hesitation. His fingers pulled down my spine, then around
my hip to my stomach. His flat palm rubbed the skin, trailing up and down my
side, focusing on the dip before the curve of my hip. “You’re soft,” He sighed
quietly, “It’s so unfair. Knowing you like this, being with you like this.”
Worriedly, I pulled away from his frame, hands braced flat against his chest,
“If I overstepped any boundaries, I’m sorry. You don’t have to come her —”
His arms constricted me to his body, holding me close. “Stop trying to push me
away. I didn’t say that at all — I’m the one who —” He stopped himself, pursed
lips pressing against my head. “You’re driving me crazy, Calliope. You know
that?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but he kept talking. “Absolutely
batshit crazy. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Right here. This,” He
squeezed me tightly. “This is all I want.”
“Pea,” I started, feeling my brows pull together, “You’re not a soulless
monster, you’re gonna have all of this.”
He laughed once, rolling onto his back, arm pulling away from me so he could
rub his face, “So I’m really just your friend?”
I rose a brow, “Well, yeah?” I strained to see his figure in the dark,
rewrapping my around around his stomach. “Am I not yours?”
“You’re a little more than just a friend, Cal.”
I felt the unease settle deep in the pit of my stomach, feeling my lips tug
down in the corners. “Don’t say that.” I pleaded quietly, pulling my arms into
my chest. “Don’t make me explain it again — I don’t do boyfriends. I don’t do
fuck buddies, or friends with benefits, or intimacy at all, really —”
“Then what the fuck do you call this?” He asked, squeezing my shoulders with
the arm that was still wrapped around my frame. “You have an issue with giving
it a title, fine, I can deal with that. But don’t pretend like what’s going on
between us isn’t fucking intimate.”
“We’re not intimate — nothing about this is crossing any lines.” I lied.
He turned onto his side again, this time he propped himself up on his elbow,
rolling me onto my back to look up at him, “Really? So you’d be completely okay
if I said I wasn’t coming tomorrow night because I had to cuddle Toni.”
“You don’t cuddle Toni.” I sneered, glaring up at his face.
“There’s a reason for that,” He responded, just as hard. “Because friend’s
aren’t like this. The way I am with you isn’t normal, the way I feel isn’t
fucking normal, Cal. I don’t even know if I’m me anymore.”
“You seem to be having a really hard time coming to terms with the fact you’re
not a piece of shit gangbanger, Pea.”
He sighed loudly again; for a moment, I feared my cousins would be able to hear
him. “It doesn’t matter, okay? This is fucking pointless. I’ve been trying to
be this person that’s good enough for you and it’s completely useless. You’re a
virgin with high morals and high standards. I should’ve known better.”
I tried not to be bothered by his words, or be insulted by how frustrated with
me he sounded. Instead I pulled away entirely, sitting up right on the bed,
keeping my back to him. Maybe he hadn’t changed at all. Maybe he was the guy
Kabrina, Danny and Josh painted him to be. Maybe Sweet Pea was a guy that just
loved a good challenge — and maybe I was his biggest conquest. Spending all
this time, forcing himself into my good graces — maybe it was all a ploy in
breaking through whatever walls I had built.
There was a petulant sigh, followed by the warmth of his hand resting against
my back. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes you did.” I shot back, keeping my eyes locked on the silhouette of my
computer desk. His fingers lightly rubbed at the bare skin, palm pressing
firmly into my spine. “If you didn’t mean it you wouldn’t have said it.”
“It came out wrong.” He tried again, “I just mean that you deserve more than I
can give you. I mean … you want to go to school in Canada.” His laugh was sad;
I turned my head, looking down at him. “You have your entire life already
figured out, Cal. I don’t fit.”
I turned entirely then, eyes scanning his face. Even in the darkness, I could
tell his brows were knotted together and his mouth was pulled down in the
corners. “To be fair,” I started, lowering myself into the mattress again,
hugging into his side. “My life has already completely flipped upside down
since I met you, so you fit better than you think.”
“‘I’m getting far, far away from here.’” He quoted quietly, arms wrapping
around my waist. “You’re not the only one that doesn’t do relationships. But I
want this with you. In spite of everything I believed I wasn’t capable of
feeling for another person, I feel it all and it’s —”
“Overwhelming?” I tried grimly, pressing my face into the crook of his neck,
fingers playing with the dog tags that rested on his chest. He turned so he was
facing me, propping himself up on his elbow again to watch my face carefully.
“I get that.”
Sweet Pea’s eyes fluttered slightly, brown orbs intently watching my mouth as
my teeth involuntarily pulled my bottom lip between them. I watched as the
lighting from the moon danced across his features. His jaw was relaxed, eyes
gleaming with emotion as his lips graced a small smile. A smile I had grown so
fond of, I couldn’t bear to see him lose it. It was safe to say that my
feelings for Sweet Pea had grown; I felt the bond whenever I was near him. It
was something automatic, I couldn’t contain it. So many times I had pictured
myself wrapped in his arms until the sun rose up from behind the tree tops. So
many times I stayed up at night, thinking of all the possibilities we could be.
The tenderness of his touch, the sweet, gentle (yet firm) care only his body
could provide. I couldn’t begin to explain the desire to stop him mid-sentence
during his tangents and kiss his full lips.
Come on, stop that.
It was times like this where I started to hate myself. Despite how much I knew
I deserved this, despite how often Toni reminded me that it was okay to just
feel, to stop giving into my better judgement, I was being stubborn. Incredibly
stubborn.
I felt the mattress dip under his weight as he leaned forward; involuntarily,
my head pressed back into the pillows. Sweet Pea seemed to notice my
hesitation, causing the smile to vanish quickly. Inwardly, I cursed myself with
my eyes pressed shut, and gripped his tags a little tighter, holding him
steady.
“What —”
I shook my head, silencing him. When my eyes reopened, Sweets expression had
softened into a look of wonder. His eyes, usually weary with thin patience and
intensity, remained neutral and inviting. The seemingly endless brown pools
sent a spur of goosebumps along my arms and down my spine; I let out a shaky
breath. I was nervous, that much was obvious.
“Can I trust you?” I asked quietly.
But I wanted this, too. That much I was certain of.
“Probably not, but you will anyway.” His lips remained parted, soft and
beckoning me silently. I gently ran the tip of my thumb across his bottom lip,
admiring the way it moved. I pulled gently on the tags, guiding his face closer
to mine with a slight tremor in my fingers, removing my thumb from his lips to
close my fist around the chain. Once the tips of his bangs gently tickled the
bare skin of my cheeks, my mouth parted in a slight quiver. Not because I felt
obligated to give him what he wanted. Because I was inexperienced. Because I
half expected him to completely hate this form of intimacy with me, and I was
scared of what would happen next. Scared that he wouldn’t stay. That he would
decide this wasn’t really what he wanted. That I wasn’t what he wanted. That I
had let myself attach to him, and that he would leave me.
“Good to know.”
He wasn’t what I needed. He reminded me too much of a father that was idle and
absent. The gambling, the violence — it was all apart of a life I was trying to
avoid. Then, the small part of me that gripped too tightly onto hope, reminded
me that I could take him away from all of this. This life. I was certain that
he enjoyed being apart of a family, and that the Serpents offered him a home
when he felt he didn’t have one. I couldn’t ask him to leave them — I wanted
him to want to leave.
That was far fetched wishful thinking.
“Look at me,” He commanded, his voice both tender and hard — a mixture that
pulled the breath from me. My heart was pounding in my chest, I could feel the
blood in my ears, and my breathing hitched as I finally — finally — tilted my
chin up, fingers pulling gently on his tags to bring him down so that I could
press my mouth against his. Our lips moved achingly slow together, melding to
one another with a fevered intensity.
Most first kisses were tender and gentle, sweet and innocent and presumptuous.
This kiss may have started off on that note, but maybe it was the familiarity
we already had after weeks of boundary pushing friendship. Maybe it was all
this dancing around each other and the fevered pitch of all the sexual tension
and nervous anticipation that caused our mouths to more hungrily against each
other.
His tongue glided along my bottom lip, demanding entrance, to which I obliged
eagerly. The soft, warm, flat muscle cautiously explored; in the need for more
of his deliciousness, I moaned involuntarily into his mouth and knotted my
fingers into his hair to keep him close. It was wonderful. The taste of
cigarette on his tongue mingled with the crisp mint flavour was intoxicating.
My head was swimming. 
A chuckle reverberated in his chest, the hum tingling my lips as he pulled up
and away. Breathless, he pressed his forehead to mine, “Wait a sec,” He
whispered with an amused smile, “We’ve got plenty of time for more of that,
babydoll.”
“I’ve got a few years of catching up to do.” I mumbled sheepishly, relaxing
into the pillows as he pulled the duvet over our turning bodies. He encouraged
me to lay on my side, pressing his chest against my back while his arm wrapped
around my waist to hold me closely. Sweet Pea’s face nuzzled into my back, warm
breath saturating the hair at the nape of my neck.
“Right now,” He started, pressing his mouth against my flesh, “You need to get
some sleep.” I shivered slightly, draping my hand over his around my waist.
Reluctantly, I nodded and tried to shut my eyes.
When Sweet Pea had thought I had fallen asleep, he shifted carefully and
pressed another kiss to my shoulder, a quiet laugh muffled by my shirt. I could
feel his eyes on my face, felt his arm squeeze me once before he peeled himself
away from me, pulled his boots on and slid the window open. Before he slipped
out, he brushed his fingertips against my temple, pulling my hair away from my
eyes with a soft sigh. This time, he sounded happier. Once he had safely shut
the window, and his shadow had disappeared, my eyes shot open and I remained
still.
What had we done?
***** NINE *****
Despite any crippling doubts I had about allowing myself to emotionally attach
to Sweet Pea, I found myself craving his touch and company more than I thought
I would. If I wasn’t working or busy with the boys, I’d find myself settled
comfortably in a corner table at the Whyte Wyrm while Toni worked and Pea
played pool. Somedays I would work next to Jughead — not that he ever
associated much. He was always too immersed in his own world to care for
conversation.
My relationship with Sweets remained private; we still made an effort to keep a
distance during the school hours, moreso for my sake. I had explained what had
happened with Dean to him. After several hours of arguing back and forth, he
understood that my position in the household was still considered temporary and
entirely possible of being taken away should Dean feel necessary. Neither of us
liked having to restrain ourselves throughout the day — it was becoming
increasingly difficult to not reach out instinctively and brush his bangs out
of his eyes or hug his large frame.
Every night, I left my window open so he could sneak through. Some mornings I’d
wake up in an empty bed, others I’d have the pleasure of being woken up with
delightfully gentle kisses pressed along my shoulders. It was those small
moments, getting to be together alone, that made the wait all worthwhile. He’d
walk me home after a shift a Pop’s, made sure to buy a milkshake to split
during every shift (always vanilla, just because it was my favourite).
I was happy when I was with him, surprisingly. I hadn’t expected myself to
succumb to the deeper desires that lurked in the background of my mind. I had
always expected that I’d push through it all, come out the other side the
person I wanted to be, but alone. Maybe I was capable of both. Having the love,
the companionship, as well as becoming who I envisioned myself to be. Just with
my rock. My person. The more time I spent with him, the more I accepted what we
had become. How important and crucial he had become for my growth. He was the
beginning of a new chapter in my life.
Strong willed, mindful, and incredibly stubborn. Three of many traits I had
begun to appreciate more since I had started seeing Sweets. His perseverance
was admirable, not once had he ceased chasing me — I was quick to demolish any
doubts I had once previously had about his feelings for me. I was certain I
understood completely. Things just felt better when he was here. Like there
wasn’t parts of me empty and missing. Not necessarily because they had been
taken from me, but because they had never existed in the first place.
I could feel whole, and warm. I had never felt warm, and I hadn’t noticed until
I touched Sweet Pea. His skin always left a burning sensation on my fingertips
— and despite that feeling, I craved more of his touch. I stopped pulling away
when he wanted to caress my arm, or face. I didn’t hesitate to rest comforting
hands on his shoulders and arms. I never stopped hugging him under his jacket,
because it was intimate, and that was how I wanted it. He was my Sweet Pea.
Not that I’d ever admit any of that to him.
I rested my head against the wooden cabinet, draping my arms around his
shoulders as he leaned into his palms on the counter strategically placed on
either side of my hips. He ran his nose along my jawline. “You’re supposed to
be watching the food.” I reminded him, raking my nails through his hair.
Sweet Pea hummed in satisfaction, lips latching gently onto my neck, licking
and sucking the flesh. A quiet giggle slipped through my lips as his fingertips
gently tickled my sides, bringing my knees up to squeeze either side of his
waist  tightly. His grin softened, hands then slowly moving to wrap around me
fully, and I resettled my hands on either side of his face. Sweet Pea rested
his forehead against mine, eyes closing slightly as he spoke, “Maybe I can’t
wait for the food.” He suggested teasingly, fingers trailing towards my inner
thigh. My breathing hitched in my throat, body tensing in response to the light
touch.
My lips were on his quickly then, desperately pulling him closer when the front
door opened noisily; the voices drifted into the kitchen as the sounds of
shopping bags hit the floor. My eyes snapped over to the entryway, horror
mirrored in Donovan’s wide blue orbs. We remained frozen, Sweet Pea’s hand
(thankfully) concealed. “Danny?” Don called loudly. I pressed my index finger
to my lips desperately, eyes pleading. “Can you go upstairs and get me my gym
bag?” He asked over his shoulder quickly, eyes setting into an angry glare.
I relaxed, dropping my forehead onto Pea’s shoulder.
With much reluctance, we heard Danny’s feet hit the stairway. Pea worked
quickly then — he grabbed his phone off the table, leaned over to press a
feather-light kiss to my lips before he slipped past Don’s stiff frame; his
eyes had not moved from my figure sitting on the counter.  
Sweet Pea was out of the house before Danny had even found Don’s bag. I hung my
head into my palms, rubbing my tired eyes. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” I
mumbled angrily to myself, sitting upright to meet his piercing glare.
We remained in that moment, eyes locked together, expressions conveying a
thousand words neither of us could speak in fear Danny might overhear. Finally,
Don stepped forward into the kitchen, voice low and controlled, “What wasn’t?
Fucking around with Sweet Pea? Or me finding out?”
I sneered, “I’m not fucking around with him, Don.”
His brows shot up, taking another step towards me, “Right, you expect me to
believe that you’re seeing him?” I dropped my gaze quickly, unfocused on his
chest, then just behind his shoulder. “Oh my god,” He groaned, smacking his
palm against his forehead, “You’re fucking dating him. Cal, what the fuck are
you thinking?”
Danny descended the stairs, bags in hand. We recovered quickly; Don leaned
against the wall with his arms folded as I sat up taller. Danny slapped his
ball cap down onto his head, poking his head around the corner to sniff once
and hum. “Whatcha cooking?” He asked, pulling his brows together.
“Tacos.” I smiled weakly, meeting Don’s eyes for a brief moment. “Want some?”
“No,” Don said curtly, ripping his bag from Danny’s hand. “We’re overdue for a
run. Let’s go.” He smacked Danny’s chest, and turned to the door. I slipped off
from the counter, bringing my hands up to my hair to run through the tangled
strands, courtesy of Sweet Pea.
“Save some.” Danny pleaded before he slipped out behind Don, shutting the door
behind them.
I leaned against the ceramic counter and gripped onto the ledge tightly,
feeling the vibrations in my pocket.  I pulled out my phone, having three
unread messages from Pea:
[image]
I tossed my phone onto the counter and sighed heavily. I had been pushing my
cousins limits for a while now — and knowing Don, he could decide enough was
enough at any time. Which meant that my relationship with Sweet Pea was likely
to be outed to the remaining two members of our family.
In an effort to piece together everything, to give myself a reason that what I
felt for Sweet Pea was wrong, I had taken the chance to talk to Dean about what
happened when he was seventeen. The picture he painted was as horrific as I had
imagined. It certainly represented a side of the gang I had yet to witness, and
hoped I never did. Dean felt so strongly in his opinion of them.
“It’s so easy to get caught up in them. It’s exhilarating. There’s nothing like
sitting on a bike, or being someplace you ought not to be.” He sighed, picking
at the label on his beer bottle. “It starts out that way. With the right
intentions. Crystal clear. Suddenly you’re neck deep, trying to keep your head
above the water and they’re all hoping you drown.”
“I thought you said the Serpents were all mainly family related — how’d you get
in?”
Dean had shrugged, lips twitching at a smile, “Our fathers.” He admitted, “Your
old man was the first of the two to join. Didn’t cause a fuss, didn’t draw any
attention. Lived his life under loyal protection. Then he met your mom —
likewise with my dad.”
“So they left? No questions asked?” I asked, confused. “And you couldn’t just
leave?”
“They’re not going to hold you hostage and force you to stay. People grow up,
they have children. They aren’t going to hold that against you. I remember dad
saying it was the hardest decision Byron ever made, choosing to leave them to
stay with you and your mom in Pelham.”
I sat on that thought for a few days. That all along I hadn’t been an outsider.
I had belonged, just unknowingly. And I had preferred to keep it that way — I
didn’t want Pea thinking I was going to throw myself into the middle of that
mess, to prove something to him. Because I wouldn’t. My interest in gang
affiliation ended with Sweet Pea.
===============================================================================
I waltzed out of math, bumping hips with Pea as he greeted me in the hallway,
“Lookin’ good, sweetness.” He smirked, surveying the ripped denim and jean
jacket he had loaned me after class the previous day. His fingers pulled the
textbooks from my arms, holding them against his side as we moved down the
stairs towards biology.
“Thanks,” I smiled cheekily, gripping onto the strap of my bag tightly, “It’s
my boyfriend’s.” I forced the smile to stay as I said the word; it was still
incredibly new for me. Felt foreign and bitter in my mouth.
Sweet Pea’s lips threatened a smile, “Is that so?”
I nodded, ensuring to keep my eyes on the sea of students rushing in between
periods, “He’s got great taste.”
Pea hummed in satisfaction as his arm moved to drape over my shoulder. “Not
going to get over hearing you say that.” He mumbled quietly into my ear.
“You’re not worried about Danny seeing?”
I shrugged, stepping around a group of teens conveyed in the middle of the
hallway, “I’m a dead man either way — might as well get the full girlfriend
experience while I can.” I joked, peering sideways up at his towering figure.
Pea’s mouth was pressed into a firm line; he casted a worried look down at me,
“We don’t know if Don’s gonna say anything.”
“Of course he is,” I scoffed, stopping in my tracks to force him to turn on his
heels and face me, “Look, neither of the boys have class on this side of the
school anyway, so I’m in the clear till lunch.”
We turned onto the second floor, Pea tapped my lower back once, “I’m gonna stop
by Fangs locker quickly, I’ll catch up.” I nodded absently, eyes focusing on
Jughead and a panicked redhead several feet ahead of me. I circled around them,
curiously looking back over my shoulder. If I had developed any sort of ground
friendship with Jughead, I might’ve stopped to interrupt. Instead, I continued
forward.  
Kabrina stood outside a classroom, leaning against the wall with a knowing
smile as I twirled when I approached. “Girl,” She bumped her fist against mine,
pushing off the wall, “You look seriously hot.”
“Pea seems to think so.” I mused coyly.
“Thought you were coming out about it yet.”
I shrugged, lifting one shoulder up, “We aren’t — it’s just a jacket.”
“His jacket,” She added, pulling at the sleeve, “And everyone knows it.”
We had made it halfway down the hall when I heard the noise; the school doors
burst open and slammed into the concrete walls heavily, deputies quickly
infiltrating the hall. The students moved hastily then: they scattered down the
hall, groups dispersing instantaneously. My eyes settled on the several canines
that pressed their noses to the floor. Lockers swung open, pat downs began to
those who willingly complied.
Those who didn’t were restrained
“Toni!”
Jughead and his friend shouldered past me, “Hey, hey, hey! You want to help
her? You can’t do that from behind bars, c’mon!” I followed Jughead’s gaze; the
survival instinct on Toni’s face came through as she shouldered past the swarm
of students. Just behind her I could see Fangs raise his arms, face dropping in
annoyance as the officer patted him down thoroughly, jaw clenching under the
skin.
My chest tightened. I searched over the crowd desperately for Sweet Pea.
“Calliope!” I snapped my neck towards the voice; Pea charged through a pair of
officer’s, hands forcibly pushing them away from his body. His face was pulled
together in a mixture of anger and fear. He was trying to reach me, desperately
trying to evade the grabbing hands that pulled on the leather of his jacket.
“The jacket!” He yelled anxiously, looking at the jean on my body. Four sets of
hands gripped onto his outerwear tightly to haul him back, then pressed down on
his spine firmly, pushing his face and chest into the row of lockers. Sweet
Pea’s eyes locked with mine. He lifted his hand to push himself off the
lockers, quickly punching his fist into the metal before the deputy gripped
onto his wrist tightly and twisted it behind his back.
“We’ve got another one!” To my surprise, my shoulders were tightly encased in a
steel grip. I twisted abruptly, holding my hands out defensively as I took a
step back. “Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to stay still, Mayor’s orders.” The male
ordered gruffly, advancing forward again.
“This isn’t my jacket.” I stated firmly, looking over my shoulder to where
Sweet Pea remained pressed against the lockers, hands wiggling under the
officer’s grips as they struggled to cuff him.
“Just co-operate.” The officer demanded, reaching forward to tightly grip onto
my arm. I ripped my limbs from his fingers, wincing slightly at the pain that
laid in its wake.
“It’s not my jacket.” I repeated firmly, a little louder, a little more
desperate. My eyes locked onto Kabrina’s — she was trying to push past the
teacher that had a group of students pressed into the wall to keep them from
the mayhem. My fear was mimicked in her eyes.
“Don’t touch her.” Sweet Pea growled from several feet away, voice cutting
through the distress.
“Let’s get her restrained!” The officer called; my eyes shot up to his, shaking
my head violently.
Now I jerked back in reaction, folding my arms across my chest.
“Don’t fucking touch her!” Pea yelled again when the officer in front of me
grabbed the lapel of the jacket and slammed me back into one of the lockers. I
winced on impact, head pressing into the metal.
I looked around desperately: most of the immediate area contained Serpents
being patted down or restrained by officers. There were a handful of
eyewitnesses and general bystanders. My gaze locked with Don’s; his eyes were
wide but he remained on the sideline.
I had to explain.
He tried to step forward — he was stopped almost instantly; Kabrina grabbed
onto his arm and mumbled something in his ear. His face fell the slightest; I
felt the nausea creep up my esophagus. I snapped my neck over to where Sweet
Pea stood, heavily secured in place with an officer on either side of him. His
eyes remained focused on mine; I tried to find comfort in the depths of his
brown hues. “Stop resisting.” He commanded desperately over the noise in the
hall.
When we started to file out through the front doors, I briefly met Don’s eyes
as I passed, “Don’t tell Dean.” I pleaded quickly, hoping my face conveyed just
how desperate I was. The students of Southside High lined the sidewalk, phones
pulled out, videotaping the scene as one by one, Serpents were shoved into the
back of cruisers.
Unfortunately, my eyes caught hold of a familiar blue pair amongst the swarm of
bystanders. “Danny?”
“Cal? What’s going on — hey, let her go!” I heard his angry voice behind me,
heard him struggling against a deputy. My head ducked into the back cab of one
of the vehicles, my legs barely fitting between the seats when I looked through
the glass of the window to see him towering over one of the officers, pointing
angrily in my direction. “This is a misunderstanding — she’s not one of them.”
Sweet Pea entered in on the opposite side; once the doors had shut, he leaned
forward and pressed his mouth against my shoulder comfortingly.
“You’re okay,” Pea mused gently, scooching himself closer to my frame. Danny
was still working against the Sheriff, trying to reason with him as they both
turned to look at me. “It’s gonna be okay.” Pea’s voice seemed distant now that
Danny’s eyes had settled on us closely linked together in the car; recognition
gathered on his features, eyes alight with a new sense of anger.
“I’m cuffed in the back of a police car, Pea, nothing about this is okay!” I
hadn’t noticed the tears that were streaming down my face until I gasped for
breath I hadn’t realized I needed. My shoulders shook violently, feeling the
nausea in my stomach roll uncomfortably as Danny willingly stopped protesting
and took a step back, eyes locked on mine. “Danny, please!” I cried
desperately, pushing myself up to the window.  
From the outside looking in, I could only imagine the visual. Seeing me
screaming, pleading, crying from the back of a cruiser, cuffed and scared.
Sweet Pea hovering so closely, trying to whisper comfort into my ear.
Everything muffled from the outside, like something out of a bad dream.
“I know.” Sweet Pea sighed, nudging me gently with his shoulder. “Don’t look at
him, look at me.”
I shook my head, trying to breathe deeply as the nausea rolled in my stomach
again. My mouth shut tightly, lips clamped together.
“Calliope, look at me.” He demanded, voice hard. I remained still for a few
moments, wrists sore and raw as I pulled uselessly against the metal. Slowly, I
twisted my body so that I was facing him; his eyes were cold, assessing the
scene outside the vehicle as dozens of students were either shoved into cars or
against the chain linked fence. His face softened slightly when his brown
irises flickered down to mine; he pressed his mouth to mine, lips hard and
rough, moving quickly. Desperately. I pressed my forehead to his, eyes shut
tightly, as though I were trying to erase what was happening from my mind.
“Better?” He asked quietly, brushing his lips against mine again, only this
time they were softer.
I nodded once.
===============================================================================
“Two counts of breaking and entering, one of auto theft and four counts for
underage drinking.” I leaned my head against the wall, eyes focused forward as
Officer Reyes stood just on the other side of the holding cell, reading through
my record. Out loud. “And all they gave you was a criminal citation and a slap
on the wrist.” He shook his head, letting out a quiet whistle. “How’s it feel?
Finally being cuffed.”
I could feel Sweet Pea’s eyes carefully watching me from his side of the cell.
I tried not to give Reyes the satisfaction of getting to me, instead chose to
remain silent. We had been sitting in that cell for hours; many families had
come to claim their children already, leaving Toni, Pea and I remaining.
“What’s he talking about, Cal?” Sweet Pea hissed, leaning forward with his arms
still restrained behind his back.
I waited until Reyes slapped the folder onto the desk and exited the room; I
then sighed loudly and pressed my eyes shut tightly, “Greendale is definitely
more a little more lenient.” I grumbled, feeling my mouth pull down in the
corners. I had managed to go two years fighting tooth and nail to get to where
I was. I had sworn I’d never find myself mixed up in this kind of situation
again — and here I was. In a holding cell. Cuffed and being treated as though I
had actually done something wrong.
Like any of us had done something wrong.
“Grand theft auto?” Toni asked quietly from next to me, “Badass.”
“Don’t.” I snapped, cutting my eyes open to glare at her. “They were all
infractions, hardly anything admirable.”
She rolled her amber hues, “C’mon, Cal, we’ve all been there. Nothing to be
ashamed of.”
“What part of criminal citation don’t you understand, Topaz?”
“Easy, sweetness.” Pea chided from his corner, “No one has to know.”
“Everyone already knows.” I growled, more frustrated than anything. I was
thankful that Pea understood my anger wasn’t directed at him; his face
softened, eyes weary and pained when my voice cracked.
“C’mon you two,” Keller said as he walked into the room, Tall Boy and Fangs
following behind him with annoyance plastered on their faces. “Let’s go.”
“What about Cal?” Toni asked worriedly, standing on her feet to twist and stick
her locked hands through the slit in the bars.
“Her guardian should be here shortly.” He responded absently, freeing her
wrists. He pulled the door open, hand on his hip as he looked over to where
Sweets sat expectantly, “Well? Let’s go.”
“No thanks,” He muttered grimly, pressing his back against the wall. “I’ll
pass.”
“What?” Tall Boy yelled, taking a step forward. Keller stopped him.
“Don’t be stupid,” I snapped harshly, narrowing my eyes at him, “Go, Sweet
Pea.”
We held our gaze for several heartbeats, the group outside the cell growing
increasingly impatient with each passing moment. Reluctantly, Pea stood, his
boots echoing heavily against the cement floor as he wandered to where Keller
stood, and extended his cuffed hands. Pea peered over his shoulder to where I
sat alone in the empty cell, eyes apologetic.
“Call me so I know you’re okay.” He pleaded through the bars once the door had
been shut again.
===============================================================================
The sun had set outside the windows; the cell was now illuminated by the dim
light that hung in the center of the room. No one had come in since Tall Boy
had come by for Toni and Sweet Pea — I had started to wonder if Dean would show
up at all.
My stomach rumbled hungrily, wrists raw in pain as I readjusted them for the
umpteenth time in the last hour; I hissed loudly.
“Quiet.” Reyes muttered.
I shot my eyes towards him, “I hardly think the cuffs are necessary anymore.”
“Can’t trust a snake.” My blue hues rolled again, lowering my chin to my chest
in frustration. “Shit happens when you get mixed up with the wrong crowd.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but every teen you wrongfully arrested
today was let out with no charges. I highly doubt the towns going to see the
Serpents as the real problem.”
“What are you implying, Hobbs?”
I didn’t meet his piercing glare, instead I lifted my eyes to the door that
opened. His face was void of any emotion, which caused my stomach to turn
uneasily. Officer Reyes stood from the chair, nodded to Dean once before he
shut the door behind him and left us in isolation. I stood from the bench and
walked forward, “Dean, I can explain —”
“I hope you can.” He said calmly, moving to stand in front of me with his arms
folded across his broad chest. I wanted to tell him everything, that much I
know he deserved. I wanted to reason with him, make him understand that Sweet
Pea was not a bad guy, and that his involvement with the Serpents wouldn’t
affect me or the household. That he made me happy. Made me feel normal.
That had to be enough for him, right? He could see how much I struggled, how
distant I could be. He wasn’t oblivious to the person I was. Surely he had
noticed how much more involved I seemed to be, how more at ease I appeared.
That Pea cared for my happiness. He wouldn’t need to worry about my safety — I
was perfectly safe.
He had know that.
“Seven infractions.” He started, pulling the chair into the center of the room,
leaning forward onto his elbows. “Breaking and entering? Grand theft auto?
Underage drinking? Really, Cal?”
My eyes dropped to my feet, analyzing the scuff on the side of my boot. “I made
some bad choices.” I responded quietly, trying not to let myself feel too
bothered by how disappointed he sounded.
“I thought you said everything was perfectly fine in Greendale.”
I sighed loudly, meeting his questioning eyes briefly before I looked out the
window, “They were. I wasn’t the only one charged, Dean, things happen when you
don’t have a stable home or parental guardian.”
He scoffed, lips pulling into a sad smile as he shook and hung his head,
“You’re living under my roof, under my supervision. What’s the excuse this
time?” There was an implied ‘where did I go wrong?’ that hung unspoken between
us; I felt the guilt roll in my stomach uneasily. I was typically used to
hearing disappointment from others, but this was different. So much different.
“It’s not my jacket —”
“Obviously.”
I tried to keep my annoyance at bay, pushing through his interruption, “It’s
Sweet Pea’s, okay? I’m not mixed up in any gang or criminal activity. I’m not
doing drugs, I’m not drinking —”
“Cal,” He stopped me, brows pulling together, “What are you doing wearing his
jacket?” I paused, reply caught in my throat. Was he asking because he already
knew and wanted to hear it from me? Had Don or Danny said anything? Or was he
simply curious and confused as to how I ended up in this situation. My lack of
reply confirmed whatever suspicion he had; Dean let out a loud sigh and dropped
his head again, “I warned you.”
“It’s not what you think.” I responded quickly, taking another step forward.
“This isn’t me trying to fit in, Dean. I don’t want to be apart of that —”
“But you’re already apart of it!” He yelled angrily. I pressed my forehead to
the metal bars, feeling the burning sensation gather behind my closed lids,
“And look at you now, Callie. You’re cuffed and behind fucking bars — for
wearing a jacket with their name on it.”
“It’s a misunderstanding.” I pressed quietly, trying not to let the defeat
consume me.
“I told you what happened. I get that right now things are good. That you
believe him when he says he’s sure about you, and makes you feel like you’re
all that matters,” Dean’s voice sounded desperate, as though he were trying to
reason with me but I could hear the anger underlying it all. “But you’re not.
At the end of the day, that gang? That’s all that matters to him. He’ll never
pick you over them. Don’t get caught up in it, Cal, I mean it. You’ve got good
intentions, and you’re going to make it out of here in one piece and move on
with your life but if you think he’s going to go with you, you have another
thing coming.”
“You said my dad left without any issues — why can’t he?”
“Because people like Sweet Pea grew up with this! He’s a product of
circumstance — and not one to be proud of. This place? Those people?
That’s all he knows. That’s his family. Don’t drown yourself for someone who
isn’t going to get in the water for you.”
I shook my head slowly, “You’re wrong.” I sighed, finally meeting his gaze.
“He’s not like that, he’s —”
“Different?” Dean asked curtly. His fingers moved to the collar of his shirt,
pulling it down just enough to expose a bit of flesh on his chest that appeared
mangled, raw and angrily pink. The space his tattoo used to be — the place he
had been burned. I swallowed thickly. “They’re all the same, kid. Don’t get it
twisted.” He stood, and took a few steps back, adjusting his shirt before he
exhaled loudly and moved towards the door.
“Wait, where are you going?” I asked worriedly, moving down the cell with him.
He paused, hand gripping the knob on the door, contemplating his choice in
words before he responded, “I’ll be back tomorrow before five —”
“You’re leaving me here?” I interrupted, voice cracking as I blinked in shock.
Dean took a few moments to respond. His shoulders rose with each deep inhale,
head hung slightly as he contemplated his response, “Let this be a learning
opportunity, Cal.” He sighed grimly, looking over his shoulder to where I stood
in the cell. “I guarantee you won’t make the same mistake twice after today.”
“No, Dean, wait —”
The door slammed shut.
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