Page 39 of Fractured Fates

“Get up,” he tells me. I shake my head. “Get up!”

“No!” I yell.

He scowls down at me. “You’re pathetic. Why the hell did they let you into this school if you know fuck all, pig girl?”

I blanch at the name. Then roll myself up to sit. “I never wanted to be here in the first place.”

His jaw twitches. “Then why don’t you leave?”

“It’s … complicated,” I say, realizing that if I do want to leave, this combat stuff is actually going to be useful, and this giant jacked-up jerk is stopping me from learning it. “Lesson’s over,” I tell him, jumping to my feet and strolling away.

“You can’t leave. Coach will be pissed.”

I give him the finger and keep walking.

Collecting my uniform from the changing room, I head straight back to my room, picking up Pip from where he’s snoozing on the patch of grass as I do.

I saw a laptop on Winnie’s desk this morning. I’m hoping she won’t mind me using it.

Sinking down onto the floor, I drag the computer onto my lap as Pip curls up beside me. It takes me a few attempts to guess Winnie’s password. Once I’m in, I search for instruction videos on self-defense. If that meathead won’t teach me, I’ll teach myself.

After half an hour, the door bursts open, and Winnie comes hurrying inside.

“Rhianna, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Well, I’ve been right here,” I say, shrugging.

“What happened? Spencer said you skipped class because you couldn’t do the moves.”

“Bastard,” I mutter. “He wouldn’t teach me so I decided to come learn myself.”

“Coach is going to be mad, Rhi. He’s on the war path. He’s usually really sweet, but when you get on the wrong side of him …”

“Great,” I mutter. “Seems all the teachers in this place are already pissed off with me – Johnson, Hank … Stone.”

“Oh, you mean earlier? What was all that about?”

I don’t answer, returning my attention to the laptop.

Winnie drops down on the floor next to me. “I don’t mind you borrowing my laptop, but don’t you have your own?”

I shake my head. “Left it behind.”

“Could someone send it to you?”

“There is no one.” I peer up at Winnie. “I lived with my aunt. But she’s gone now.”

“You don’t have any other family?”

I shake my head.

“Oh … I’m sorry,” Winnie says.

I suck in air through my teeth and close the lid to the laptop. “What about lunch? Don’t tell me, we’ll be eating roadkill or something if we’re late to the hall.”

Winnie chuckles. “Lunch tends to be a little better.” I jump to my feet, offering my hand to Winnie and pulling her up. “I’m sorry your first day isn’t going so well,” she says.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting it to, you know.”