//------------------------------// // It wasn't on purpose, I promise! // Story: She's Gonna Kill Me! // by Echo 27 //------------------------------// I hated going right home after school. Our place was usually empty since Mom worked late and when she got home I usually get harassed about getting my homework done. It seems the woman does not understand the need for some downtime, or that I do my homework late into the night. Before you ask, yes, I would sleep through my morning classes. Totally not my fault, they shouldn’t be that early. Being in high school meant that I was able to have somewhat of an afternoon once the bell rang so instead of heading back to our house, I’d take a few minutes to stroll through the local park and detox from all the stress and drama that seems to infect teenagers. It was a nice way to cool down after a long day and allow me some free time to simply be alone. A couple of my buddies would try to hit me up for some after-school shenanigans but I preferred having my half-hour of solitude. That, and my best friend got busted for heroin for doing stupid crap after school, so I was trying to distance myself. About halfway through my walk I felt my phone vibrate for a moment and when I pulled it out to take a look, the words “Grab a Gift!” were flashing across the screen. I froze as I remembered my Mom’s birthday was in three days and I still hadn’t bought a gift. She’d be home in an hour! If I didn’t get something before she came home, I’d be caught! I glanced at my phone’s clock. I was only a few minutes away from the local bookstore and I knew she’d been wanting a nice journal for a while. If I hustled, maybe I could get over there and back home before she got back from work. I burst through the door with such a crash that the clerk manning the front desk stared at me like I was a wild animal. Combining my entrance with the fact that my chest was heaving made for an altogether rather unsavory appearance, and I was more than willing to bet she was considering calling the cops on me. Not that I cared, streaking towards the journal/diary section as fast as my legs could take me. As I dashed around the corner the first thing I saw was a stranger in a leather jacket standing right at the edge of the lane and I tried to swerve out of the way just in time to avoid a direct collision. Unfortunately, I’m not perfect, and slipped and fell and collided with the stranger’s knees, bringing both of us to the ground in such a crashing heap that we knocked a couple of books off the shelf. Don’t ask if it hurt, you already know the answer. “Oh jeez, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, I promise,” I gabbled, getting back to my feet and offering the stranger a hand up and then stopping. It was a girl, and a very pretty one at that. Crimson-and-yellow hair that went down past her shoulders and bright cyan eyes took me back for a moment and I immediately wanted to turn this into an opportunity. And that was when I was noticed this chick was glaring f*cking daggers and possessed a scowl so tight that one could genuinely hear her teeth grinding. Desiring to live a little longer, I immediately backed out of range. “What was that for?” she asked, by now positively snarling at me. “Is there something wrong with you or are you just plain stupid?” “I swear, I did not mean to run into such a pretty thing like you- I mean I didn’t meant to hurt you- aw, Hell!” I stammered, fumbling sentences together that were, to my dread, causing this girl to become even more enraged. “Excuse me? I didn’t ask for your opinions on my looks, pencil-neck,” she spat. “How dare you even try to touch me?” “Oh come on, I promise it wasn’t on purpose,” I replied, trying to smooth it over as best I could. “Look, I said I was sorry, what more do you want? A written apology, money, a date? Wait, not that last one-!” She grabbed hold of my collar and brought me within an inch of her face and I now had full view of her eyes, which had transformed from their clear cyan to what could be described as nothing short of fiery pools from Hell. “Listen, you pathetic piece of slime, if you ever come near me again, I will ruin you, is that clear?” She let go of my collar and shoved me hard as she could and I slammed into the bookcase, distributing its contents across the floor even more thoroughly. I got back to my feet and winced as I felt where the bookshelf had dug into my back, and I felt my blood begin to boil. I whipped out of the aisle and saw the girl slinking away towards the entrance with her head high and I called out, “Yeah, well screw you, you psychotic hag! Next time we meet I’ll beat the crap out of you!” “Sir, this is a public store!” said the clerk reprovingly, staring at me angrily. “If you do not control your outbursts I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” I countered her glare with a growl and stalked back to the aisle, grabbed a nice-looking journal and –just as I was about to head to pay, I paused and found myself wondering what that crazy chick had been looking at. I glanced over at the books behind me and picked up a book whose cover read, Dark Magic from Ancient Times: Alchemy and sorcery of the Middle Ages. Great. Either I had just run into an actual witch or she was just a complete geek. Didn’t matter, as she was more hostile than a pissed-off alligator. I went to the checkout and paid for the gift, carefully wrapping it in my coat and heading out, noticing a sigh of relief emanating from the clerk as I departed. As I ran down the street back towards home, I could hear sirens in the distance, and I felt my body stiffen. I ignored the reaction and just kept on going, but found myself focusing on the fact that the noise was getting closer and closer. When the patrol vehicle rounded the turn behind me with its lights on was enough to get me nervous, but I reasoned that they couldn’t be after me. I hadn’t done anything wrong. And then the car pulled over just a few feet in front of me and out came a rather bony-looking cop, his sights directly locked onto me. “Can you come here for a second?” he asked of me. I hesitated, feeling my instincts urging me to run. Something wasn’t right with this whole setup and I knew it. “What do you need, Officer?” replied, doing my best to keep my distance. Didn’t work. The cop came closer to me and said, “I just need you to come here. Don’t try running off now, y’hear?” Feeling more and more apprehensive, I came up to him, my heart pounding away inside my chest. “I promise I wasn’t doing anything,” I said. “Is there anything on you that you shouldn’t have?” he inquired. “What? No, all I got is this book I bought for my Mom, I’ve got the receipt!” I said angrily, flashing the receipt in his face. “Can I go now?” The officer looked down on me with a look of disappointment. “Alright, I’m going to need you to stand still for a moment, just needing to perform a pat-down-” “The heck, man? No, get off of me!” I said, jumping away… and hearing a soft Plop! as a small book fell out of the back pocket of my jacket. The two of us stared at the limp object for a moment, with me wondering if I had fallen into an unknown circle of Hell. “I swear I didn’t know that was in there,” I said feebly. It was a poor explanation. In seconds I was cuffed and standing next to the car while the cop examined the mystery book. To my horror, he opened the front cover and out fell several crumpled bills. I gave a groan and my head fell onto the trunk of the vehicle. “I am so screwed,” I moaned. “F*ck.” The doors to the cell swung open as the corrections officer beckoned me out, a look of disdain on his face. “Come on, kid, your mother’s here to pick you up.” As I came into the hallway I looked down to the main office and saw my mother, a somewhat heavyset woman still wearing her uniform, staring at me with an expression that seemed to be a mixture of anger and disappointment. I felt guilt squirm through me and I hoped I’d have an explanation for this one, one that would keep her and the cops happy. The officer walking alongside pushed me down into a chair, my hands knocking against the back and being rattled by the cuffs I bore. I twitched them instinctively and felt the metal dig into my wrists rather painfully. They’d put them rather tight this time round. “OK, ma’am, here’s the story,” the officer began slowly. “We received an anonymous call that your child was causing a disturbance at the local bookstore and that some items had been stolen. When your child was apprehended a few blocks away, we found a book containing about a hundred and fifty dollars. There has been no suitable explanation for the discovery of these objects, so we had to come here.” “I understand, officer, and I promise,” she added with a forceful look at me, “this sort of thing will never happen again.” “I swear I didn’t steal anything,” I protested. “I was in there to grab one item –which I paid for- and then leave. I accidentally ran into someone when I was in there and she tried to start a fight with me. That’s all that happened.” “Don’t lie to a police officer!” my Mom added reprovingly. “You know better than that!” “That’s the explanation we were given, ma’am, so we requested security footage from the bookstore to check,” the officer countered. “Our guys down the hall should be finishing up sorting through the footage in just a bit and we’ll be able to know if it’s true or not.” A few minutes filled with awkward silences and I wringing my hands passed by until another officer stuck his head in and nodded. “Security footage corroborates the alibi, take a look,” he said. All four of us peered over as the newest cop popped the file into the nearby computer and played it for us, the footage starting right as I enter the store at top speed. The video showed everything, from my crashing into that young girl to her grabbing hold me. What I hadn’t noticed during all of it, though, was when she had pushed me back into the bookshelf, she had very subtly slipped her hand into the pocket of my jacket. The rest of the footage played, showing me paying for my things and then leaving. I felt my heart begin to beat normally again and my Mother gave a sigh of relief. “Do you know who she was?” she inquired of me. I shook my head. “Not a clue,” I answered. “She was real mad at me though, that’s for sure.” “We watched through the footage of when she entered as well, and we couldn’t find any evidence of monetary theft from inside the bookstore itself, so we have no idea where the $150 came from,” the footage officer stated. “It seems that your son just got on the wrong side of someone and they wanted to pull a particularly mean prank.” “So… does that mean I’m free to go?” I asked, sitting on the tip of my chair. “You’re free to go,” the officer guarding me answered. “Let me get those cuffs off you and the two of you are free to leave.” I flashed a smile at my mother who, for some reason, still seemed to be rather upset about something. As soon as my handcuffs were taken off I was in a hurry to escape, practically pushing my mother out the door to the car and away from the station. If she hadn’t reminded me to go and get my things I would’ve left her birthday present behind. The two of us sat in silence as we drove back to our house, she being rather stony and I being too tired from the day to have much willingness to speak. For having gone to the bookstore to try and benefit my Mom, I sure had given her a disservice. I expected her to be angry with me for something- the arrest, having been hit by such a stupid prank, making her go up to the police station, or all of them combined, but she remained completely silent. I was willing to bet she was waiting till we got home to explode on me. I didn’t have to wait long. Practically the moment she pulled up to our beat-up old house and walked in, she put her hands on her hips and stared at me with an animalistic rage. “Well?” she asked. I looked back at her, depositing my things on the counter. “Well what?” I fired back, doing my best to keep my voice even. “Do you have any explanation? Anything you’d like to say?” “Jeez, Mom, I already told you everything back in the jailhouse!” I replied, feeling stung. “Do you seriously not believe that I was framed? I’m your kid!” “I believe that’s not the first time I’ve had to relieve the police of you,” she said warningly. “Do you think I’m stupid for doubting you a little?” I gave a growl. “Fine, you’ve got a point, but I still didn’t do anything! That psycho I ran into is the one who got me into trouble. I’ll be she called the fuzz on me, too.” “Do you know where the money came from?” she asked me. “Mom, no! Hell’s bells, I promised I’d stay out of trouble, didn’t I?” I replied angrily. She stared at me in silence, looking me right in the eyes. I met her gaze just as firmly, feeling her bore into me. After a few seconds she gave a sigh and relax, having somehow been satisfied. “Why were you even in there?” “Uh… happy birthday?” I replied, bringing out the journal I had bought for her, a nervous smile playing across my lips. She frowned at me. “You’re trying to soften me up, aren’t you?” “Not the worst thing I’ve done.” She finally loosened up and laughed a little, taking the journal from my hands. “Go back and get your laundry, I’m going to wash a load.” I went down the hall to gather my clothes from my room- or, to be more accurate, the room’s floor. My last bit of punishment had reduced my roaming space to my room so I had done little cleaning lately. I had just finished picking everything up and throwing it all into the basket when I heard Mom yell down the hall, “Come here, quick! Rápidamente!” “What?! I’ve got the laundry!” I screamed back. “No, it’s not the clothes, it’s- just get in here!” Totally mystified, I went back into the kitchen to find her poring over the mail with a letter already in hand, staring at me with such a smile on her face that I was wondering if she had gone mad. “Well?” “You got a letter, mira!” she said excitedly, thrusting the paper into my face. I took it and immediately saw the seal of a local high school that I’d heard in passing: Canterlot High. “Congratulations… you have been selected for the Metro Urban Renewal Program Scholarship… welcome to Canterlot High School…” I read aloud. I was extremely confused. “Isn’t that great?” Mom asked? “Since semester just started, you can transfer from San Marino and start right away!” “Canterlot High… Isn’t this that prep school on the East End?” I asked. “Come to think of it, how’d I even get this scholarship- Holy crap, I can barely say it right!” “It’s not the kind of scholarship you can apply for, the school board randomly selects students across the district. Either you qualify or you don’t!” Mom answered, positively gleeful. I shrugged. “Yeah, well, whatever. I wasn’t gonna go, anyway, so just throw it away.” Her face fell almost instantly. “What?” “Mom, why would I leave San Marino? I know everyone there!” I said with a faint laugh. “Come on, the place may be a hellhole but it’s still school.” I turned to leave and felt her hand grab my wrist and pull me back. “Whoa what the Hell- Mom!” “You’re going to Canterlot High, do you understand me?” she demanded, her smile now replaced by a glower. “It’s the best school in the city and you’ll get a good education there. Besides, you’ve done nothing but get into trouble at San Marino.” “So? Not like we’ve done anything real bad,” I countered lightly. A little too lightly. I felt her grip tighten and she practically yelled, “You owe me! You and your friends have done nothing good for the past three years and I’m not going to let you keep getting into trouble! You’re almost an adult, what’s going to happen if you get arrested by the police again? I won’t be able to help you anymore!” She was nearly crying, tears massing in her eyes. It took me back as I realized how much this meant to her. And she was right, I did owe her a lot. I’d given her my word to stay out of trouble and that was a hard thing to do at San Marino. As much as I didn’t want to, I knew what I had to say. “Fine,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll go.” The next morning brought me in front of a school building I’d only seen once, when San Marino played an away football game here about a year ago. I looked around at the students who called this place their high school- pathetic losers the lot of them. All of them looked like they had pretty cushy lives and a fair few of them looked rather well-to-do. I could see a few were eying me with strange looks, one or two with disgust. I gave them a scowl and moved on, trying to ignore the complete clash of styles in clothing I had with them. I felt someone put a quick hand on my shoulder and I turned around to see a rather pretty dark-haired girl staring at me, an awkward smile on her face. Suddenly, I decided this place might not be so bad. “Hi, you’re the new student, right? The transfer?” she asked. “That’s me, Lolita,” I replied with a grin. “And you are..?” She didn’t catch it. “My name’s Octavia, actually,” she replied. “I’m your student liaison for the day, I’m here to help you get used to your new school. Welcome to Canterlot High.” Oh, this will be fun, I thought delightedly. That accent she’s got, cripes… “Well, I’ve got Chemistry as my first class, can you help me?” “Sure, it’s just this way,” she said, pulling me through the crowd. Things were already becoming rather entertaining. “So you just transferred right at the start of term,” she began, “are you from around here? Which school was yours?” “Yeah, I’m from here,” I answered, looking around at the throng of new faces, feeling more and more out of place as I saw the obvious cushiness of the place. “I went to San Marino for three years.” “Oh, you’re from San Marino?” she asked, apparently intrigued. “How’d you end up coming here to Canterlot High?” “I won a student scholarship here,” I bluffed. “Apparently y’all are pretty good so they wanted me here to check me out.” “Really? I hope you have a good time here, then,” she replied. A commotion further down the hall came in the sound of a roar more commonly found in the plains of Africa and I immediately felt the throng of students pressing against me in an effort to escape whatever was causing the ruckus. “What in blazes is going on?” I asked. Octavia stood on her tiptoes (I suddenly realized she was wearing a rather short skirt) and peered over the crowd with a look of horror. “It’s- it’s nothing, but you should get to class.” “Right, it’s nothing,” I said dryly. “Come on, it can’t be that bad, what’s up?” “No, just go, go!” she said warningly, a panicked look on her face. “Please will you listen to me and go?” “Why, what’s the big-” I didn’t get a chance to finish. The crowd began to disperse and then I saw the immediate problem: the same leather jacket, same crimson and yellow hair, same beautiful eyes, and same furious expression. It was the girl from the bookstore. Her gaze was sweeping through the crowd, looking for someone. Instead, she had found me. “You!” she snarled, looking incensed. Aw, Hell, I thought.