When Art Rises: Living in Cin: (A Twisted Interracial High School Love Triangle) Read online

  “Well, you know me, Tony. My day isn’t complete unless I fuck shit up.” We’re on a first name basis since we’ve become so well acquainted.

  “Let’s go. You know the drill.”

  I follow Tony out of the classroom without a fight while the other security officer and Mr. Jared attend to those bastards. Well, this will be my last day at Blackwood Academy.

  I sit in a chair outside of Principal Patrick’s office. I’m sure he already called my mother. I’m positive she and the old man will be waiting for me when I arrive home. I scrub a hand down my face. I don’t want to deal with this bullshit. I have zero fucking patience right now. I should get out of here. What’s the point in waiting around when I already know what he’s going to tell me? I stand, determined to leave, but Principal Patrick’s door opens.

  “Art, please come inside and have a seat.”

  I stroll into his office. “I’ll stand.”

  “You do know this is the last straw, don’t you?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “So what else is new?”

  “You can’t go through life with this ‘I don’t care’ attitude of yours.”

  Attempting suicide was the coward’s way out. I deserve to live every fucking day with the death of Cole beating at my conscience relentlessly. Misery is my constant companion from sun up to sun down. I don’t deserve peace.

  “Well, that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

  “I know the last couple of years have been tough with the passing of your brother—”

  “I’m not listening to this.” Any talk about Cole is dangerous territory. I’ll go the fuck off.

  “I’m sorry. I know that’s a tough topic for you.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “This is a serious situation. Some of Kade’s ribs are broken, Kenny has a concussion, and Owen can barely talk. They’re being transported to the hospital by ambulance. You could be charged with assault.”

  “My grandfather has more money than God. Their parents’ silence will be bought. Money makes the world go round. Anyway, I didn’t start the fight. I just finished it. I have the right to defend myself.”

  “Witnesses say you struck first.”

  “Well, that’s what happens to motherfuckers who mention my brother.” I smirk.

  “This isn’t a joke.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Life is one big fucking joke with a shitty punch line.”

  “You’re expelled, effective immediately.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Tony will escort you to your locker to get your personal things.”

  “The only place I want to be escorted to is the front door.”

  I leave his office with Tony trailing behind me.

  “Wait,” Tony calls a second before I’m about to pass through the exit.

  I continue walking forward, not breaking my stride. “What?”

  “You’re a good kid. You can be anything you want in life. Don’t ruin it.”

  “I don’t have a future,” I reply.

  I walk across the school grounds and hop on my motorcycle, a BMW R1200GS. I rev the engine, zooming out of the parking lot. I never wear a helmet because I’m not afraid to die. I’m afraid to live. I don’t plan to go home to face my mother and the old man just yet. They’ll have to wait a few hours to feed me their bullshit speeches.

  The sun has been set for hours by the time I arrive home. I enter the code at the gates before continuing towards the big structure. When I enter the garage, I see my grandfather’s Bugatti Chiron next to my mother’s Ferrari LaFerrari Aperta. I kill the engine, then walk through the mudroom to enter the kitchen where the two of them are sitting at the island bar, waiting on me.

  Figures.

  My mother has a distressed look on her face, but the old man’s face is the complete opposite—he’s furious.

  “Arthur, shall we have a conversation about what occurred in class today?” He refuses to call me by my nickname.

  “No, I’d prefer if we didn’t have this conversation at all.”

  By the time I was released from rehab, my mother had moved. There’s no way I would’ve been able to live in the same place where Cole died. Though the residence is spacious, it’s nowhere near the size of the mansion where we used to live. There’s a pool, but I don’t go near it. I haven’t been in a pool since that day. My therapist tried to help me overcome that fear to no avail. Going to a therapist was a waste of time and money. I’m still the same fucked-up person.

  My grandfather has power of attorney over my father since his stroke. He’s been a resident of a nursing home since the day he was discharged from the hospital. The doctors said he’ll never make a full recovery. It’s a good thing my grandfather has control over all my father’s businesses and investments. My mother is a trophy wife who doesn’t know the first thing about business. Her job is to sit and look pretty. I bet she’s thrilled she doesn’t have to pretend to be the doting wife anymore, free to fuck her way through the entire male population of Boston. She’s a shitty wife and mother. She hasn’t been to visit my father once, but then again, neither have I, so that makes me a shitty son. The old man pays all the monthly bills and deposits money into our separate checking accounts on a weekly basis.

  I walk past the island bar, intending to leave the kitchen.

  “Art, don’t leave,” my mother demands.

  “Who’s going to stop me?”

  “You can’t continue to function like this!” my grandfather shouts.

  “What are you going to do after you graduate high school? You don’t have the GPA to get accepted into college. You’ve been expelled from several schools. It’s time for you to grow up!” my mother yells.

  I turn to face her. “So now you want to pretend like you give a fuck about being a mother when I’m nearly eighteen? It’s too late for that.”

  “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.” Her voice wavers.

  Here come the damn waterworks.

  “Don’t you have a dick appointment? Your main squeeze must not be doing his job. Maybe you should get another one.”

  “That’s enough!” my grandfather roars.

  “I’m just getting started,” I reply.

  Tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

  “She knows if she’d been home that night instead of spreading her legs, Cole would still be alive.”

  A loud sob leaves her mouth.

  Good, the guilt can slowly kill us both.

  The old man moves swiftly towards me with a raised hand, as if to strike.

  “Watch it. You don’t want to do that.”

  My voice is calm, low, deadly.

  “What happened to Cole was a tragic accident. It’s no one’s fault,” my grandfather says.

  That’s where you’re wrong.

  “I’ve been in touch with your uncle,” my mother says. “He’s agreed to let you finish out your senior year in North Carolina with him.”

  The old man’s head whips in her direction. “What?”

  “I’m not going,” I reply at the same time my grandfather says, “He’s not going.”

  “You’re out of control, and I can’t handle you.”

  “You can’t make me go.”

  “You can either move in with your uncle or your grandfather, but you can’t stay here anymore. This is for your own good.”

  “Since one son is gone, why not get rid of the other one? You can finally have your freedom.”

  “I love you, Art. I want the best for you. This decision wasn’t made lightly. You need a change of environment, somewhere peaceful. Your uncle’s sweet potato farm will be perfect. You can reconnect with your cousin. He assures me that’ll be the best place for you to overcome your demons.”

  “I like my demons, they’re my constant companions.”

  “You can stay with me.”

  Fuck no.

  “I’d rather take my chances in North Carolina,” I say over my shoulder, leaving the kitch
en.

  He controlled my father like a puppet, but I refuse to let him pull that shit with me. I’ll simply lie low until the end of the school year. Unless somebody fucks with me, then that’s another story.

  “Please tell me you’re joking, Dad.” Josh groans.

  We’re in the dining room, eating dinner. It’s Christmas Eve.

  One big happy family.

  Things are about to get heated. The fights between Josh and his father are always epic. My mom’s left eye twitches, which happens whenever she’s on edge. She’s attempting to get Ricky’s attention from where she sits at the opposite end from him. She’s a bundle of nerves during confrontations. I eat the Arroz de Braga I cooked, not letting their argument bother me. I’ve never let the almost daily tug-of-war that happens between Ricky and Josh get to me.

  After my mom and dad broke up, we relocated from Phoenix, Arizona to Longhorn, North Carolina so we could be closer to our family. It’s awesome that I’m able to develop more of a relationship with Aunt Katrina and my cousins, Lilah and Dionte. Before the move, we barely saw each other. Lilah and I are both seventeen, so we have a lot in common. Dionte is a thirteen-year-old boy who has no interest in spending time with his older female cousin, but he’s a good kid. Katrina’s husband, Thomas, who’s the local vet, introduced Mom to Ricky. They were inseparable from that day forward. My mom and aunt are down with the swirl. Ricky asked my mom to move in with him after only eight months of dating.

  In the beginning, Josh and I hated each other. We didn’t acknowledge each other at school and barely spoke a word at home unless we were arguing. We’ve actually come to physical blows a few times. He wanted Mom and me gone. Josh has mommy issues. His mom decided she didn’t want to be a mom anymore, so one day she never came home, but she left a note. She literally disappeared off the face of the earth, and Ricky hired a private investigator to find her. Josh’s and my dislike of each other caused a strain on Ricky and Mom’s relationship.

  Eventually, we came to an unspoken truce when I started dating his best friend, Trevor. The only downside to Trevor and me becoming an item is that it caused a rift between Lilah and me because she had a thing for him—a sentiment he did not return. In time, we were able to patch up our relationship. Lilah is a part of the in-crowd, along with Josh. Instant popularity is definitely something I wasn’t used to, but I like it very much. Classmates greet me as I walk through the halls and want to become my friend. Josh is one of the most popular boys in school, being the captain of the football and basketball team. To the girls at Central High School, he’s prime real estate. He’s tall with a lean muscular build, black hair, and dark blue eyes.

  Trevor plays football too, but totally sucks ass at basketball. I was completely surprised that Trevor would want someone like me. Not that I’m butt ugly or anything, but I’m far from a beauty queen. He’s not as tall as Josh at around five foot nine with a muscular frame, light amber-colored hair, and the most beautiful bright blue-green eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s the essential boy next door. About a year ago, we broke up for two months because I didn’t like the person he became when he got drunk. But he slowed down a lot, so we got back together. I’m a tomboy through and through. Hoodies, loose jeans, and Chuck Taylors are my clothing of choice during the cooler months. In the summer, T-shirts, shorts, and flip-flops are my best friends. The only girly thing about me is my black, long, wavy hair with pink highlights—my best asset—which stops right above my ass. I’m five foot two, one hundred and five pounds soaking wet. I have no ass or breasts to speak of. I have light cream-colored skin, courtesy of my Brazilian father.

  “He’s coming. The decision is final.”

  “You can’t be serious!”

  “I’m serious as a heart attack. He’ll be here on Saturday,” Ricky replies sternly.

  “I live here too. I have a right to be included in decisions affecting me!” Josh shouts.

  “Art has been going through a tough time since Cole’s death. He’s spiraling down a dark path, and I know I can help him. He needs to be surrounded by love.”

  Neither Ricky nor Josh talk much about their family. In Ricky’s office, I saw a picture of him along with two other men. The similarities between the three are uncanny. I guessed they were his father and brother. Something terrible must’ve happened to cause a rift between them. Mom and Ricky had been dating for about a year when his nephew, Cole, tragically lost his life. He didn’t want us to go to the funeral, so we stayed behind. I did overhear that Cole’s older brother, Art, attempted suicide by slitting his wrists.

  Josh laughs sarcastically. “Surrounded by love? This is fucking bullshit.”

  “Hey, watch your mouth!” Ricky yells.

  “You let the devil in your house, you’ll get burned.”

  “That’s enough. He’s coming to stay with us!” Ricky bangs his fist on the table.

  Josh leans back against his chair, crossing his arms across his chest like a two-year-old.

  “I’ll need you to help me clear out the spare bedroom before Art gets here. The furniture is being delivered on Friday morning. I want to have everything done by Saturday so he’ll feel welcomed.”

  Josh clenches his jaw.

  “Cin, can you help too?” Mom asks.

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll cook a special dinner on Saturday night. I’ve been eyeing this new recipe I want to try,” she announces enthusiastically.

  Oh God, no, please help us all.

  The conversation stops as we all zero in on my mom. She can’t cook worth shit. That’s why we’re eating Christmas dinner over at Thomas and Katrina’s tomorrow evening. Either Ricky or I do all the cooking. My grandmother on my father’s side is a great cook and taught me very well when we lived in Phoenix. I spend every summer there, though I don’t see my father as much as I’d like since he’s a CDL driver. He’s on the road most of the time. That’s why my parents decided to call it quits. Also, Mom and my grandmother constantly bumped heads.

  “Whatever you cook, I’m sure he’ll love it,” Ricky replies.

  “I’m outta here.” Josh leaves the table.

  Ricky closes his eyes, rubbing his temples before letting out a long sigh. My mom leaves her chair to stand behind him and massage his tense shoulders. He places a soft kiss on her hand.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay. Cin and Josh didn’t get along at first. Give it a month,” Mom says.

  “I hope you’re right, and I hope I’m doing the right thing by bringing him here. Maybe I’m in over my head. Maybe he can’t be helped.”

  “He can be helped. Like you said, he needs to be surrounded by love.”

  My mom kisses Ricky’s lips when he lifts his head towards her. That’s my cue to leave. I don’t want to see this.

  “I’m going for a run,” I say, leaving the table.

  “Okay, don’t be gone too long,” she tells me.

  “Mom, you know I have to get ready for track season. It starts in about two months.”

  “Fine, just be careful. I don’t like when you go running at night.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I say, kissing her cheek before leaving the dining room.

  I climb the stairs then turn left before stopping at Josh’s door. I knock lightly.

  “Go away,” he yells.

  “It’s me.”

  “Come in.”

  He’s lying on his bed, tossing a football towards the ceiling then catching it on the way back down.

  “Will it be so bad to have your cousin living here?”

  “You don’t know him. He’s a douchebag. On the rare occasion we visited our wacko family, he would always play some type of cruel joke on me. I remember one time, he superglued my hands to my hair while I slept.”

  I chuckle a little.

  “It’s not funny, Cin. I had to get a really low buzz haircut after that. I was teased relentlessly.”

  “Come on, you were little kids.”

  “He and his sick friends tied me to a
tree and left me there. Kids don’t do shit like that. He’s all kinds of twisted. I was happy when our visits stopped.”

  “Maybe he’s changed. Just give him a chance.”

  “I don’t want to give him a chance.”

  “You gave me one.”

  “That’s different. My best friend fell for you.”

  This is one stubborn boy. “Well, like your father said, it’s happening.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “I’m going for a run. Goodnight.”

  I enter my bedroom. Ricky and Mom’s master bedroom is on the right side of the staircase while the bathroom, linen closet, and Josh’s and my bedrooms are on the left. On the ground level is Ricky’s office, a spare room—now to be Art’s bedroom—kitchen, living and dining room, and a full bathroom. There’s a half bathroom in the basement along with the washer and dryer.

  I’ve been in track and field since elementary school, but I didn’t get really good until my sophomore year in high school. I won State that year and my junior year. I was widely recognized and given a scholarship to attend Lexington University in California. Trevor applied there and at a few other universities in the surrounding area so we can be near each other. I run the one, two, and four-hundred-meter races. I plan to win state again this year. I put on a hoodie over my T-shirt and change out of my sweatpants in favor of leggings. I slide my feet in a pair of sneakers before making my way downstairs and out the front door.

  I look out at the three-hundred-acre land used for sweet potato farming as I complete a few stretches on the wraparound porch. I didn’t know the first thing about sweet potato farms when I first relocated here, but I fell in love with the process and willingly help Ricky with the harvest every year. I’m going to assist Ricky and his employees in planting the slips again in April. Harvest will begin in late August and end in November, but I’ll be in college this time around. There are two other buildings stationed to the right of the house with the fields to the left. One is used to cure the sweet potatoes after harvest. The other is used to store the sweet potatoes after curing and the slips for winter. When Ricky receives orders from grocery stores, I help to rinse and pack them. My mom is a math whiz, so she’s in charge of all the accounting stuff. I finish my stretches then take off at a steady, brisk pace.